Not that I have a lot to speak of,
But my tongue, God, is rather worn out,
So I cry by myself like a seagull,
Drink the sunlight that leaks through the key-hole,
And continue to mumble out loud
(Not that I have a lot to speak of).
I’m alone here. I’m despised by people.
I don’t mind. I don’t fit in their crowd.
So I cry by myself like a seagull.
Give me wings and a rooftop to leap off
And I’ll soar up to heaven unbound!
Not that I have a lot to speak of,
But the prayers continue to seep through
Opened lips when there’s no one around,
So I cry by myself like a seagull.
Do You see the bell on the steeple?
That’s my soul! It is turned inside out,
Though I don’t have a lot to speak of,
Listen, God, for the cry of a seagull!
Seagull
© Copyright: Андрей Кнеллер, 2010
Свидетельство о публикации №110042207084
Свидетельство о публикации №110042207084
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