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Ναι μωρή αρρώστια Κωστάρα! Φοβερός κ υποτιμημένος δίσκος.
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Άντε να πουμε επιτέλους
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It’s getting hard to breathe!
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Thus I myself once sank,
Out of my truth-madness,
Out of my day-longings,
Weary of day, sick from the light —
Sank downward, eveningward, shadowward,
By one truth
Burnt and thirsty —
Do you still remember, remember, hot heart,
How you thirsted then? —
That I be exiled
From all truth!
Only fool! Only poet!
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1 Like
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11 Likes
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Να φυγει το επος
4 Likes
