You left
But, I know it, I am sure
I will follow you, I will come wherever you are
In your soul I live, I am without measure
There is no place for anyone but me
Before you may sparkle many faces
It is me looking at you through their eyes,
In every voice, you will hear my language
In every sound you will perceive my confession.
In every sound you will perceive my confession.
And when in the evening you go through the aisles,
It is my glance that the neon will send back,
And when the wet leaves brush against you,
You will feel my breath in your furrow.
Home when you sink into the books,
You will see me, and through the window
With the breeze I will enter,
on your lips I will be smoked from the cigarette.
Home when you sink into the books,
You will see me, and through the window
With the breeze I will enter,
on your lips I will be smoked from the cigarette.
Iurii Ladutko (Ústí nad Labem, République tchèque)
I will become squall, wind, hurricane,
Break your windows and walk in
In your room, in your world and all the time
I will blur
Your life
Your soul
Your papers...
No, you can not, you can not forget me! ...
Sylva Kapoutikian
Trond Kallevåg - "Flukt"