'You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
'They called me the hyacinth girl.'
Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence. Od' und leer das Meer.
1 Comments:
Ah Rufus Wainwright. I love that album, and will now have Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk stuck in my head for the rest of the night.
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