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I sometimes think that I could be
alone: Really alone, with neither God nor friends. The people near me then might well be stone: Just faces on a frieze that never ends. And I would travel in my mind towards death, A world within a world sealed like a tomb. My thoughts would be as silent as my breath, And, like my breath, expire at my doom. Such thoughts would make me shudder, were not you A world where I may enter and find rest. A rock gives way within, and I walk through To be in laughing eyes a welcome guest. Thank God I have you, friend, that I might stay And be as I could be no other way. Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use. Video Music: De sal de linguagem feita. By Lovira. Performed by Lovira |
