Every time I love this life,
This very transient one,
And if you ask me why?
I would just say,
Every time I find people dying,
every time I find death close at heels,
And the more I place my hands on a coffin
Or on the soil where friends and compatriots left their last roses
Beautifully engraved upon their hearts,smiling ,
There more i come back to live,
I come back to Love,
I come back to autumns, winters, and springs and rains,
I come back to make a beautiful world
For only in the face of Beauty, Truth resides
With all its happiness of Peace.
No comments:
Post a Comment