E poezie pură:
“Overhead the albatross
Hangs motionless upon the air
And deep beneath the rolling waves
In labyrinths of coral caves
An echo of a distant time
Comes willowing across the sand
And everything is green and submarine. Read the rest of this entry »
The Builders and the Butchers – aceeaşi trompetă balcanică însoţind fiecare vers. Un fel de Beirut, numai că mai puţin reuşit. Totuşi drăguţ.
“Când soarele va apune în sudul Barcelonei totul se va transforma în aur.”
“And singing, illuminate the main streets and the cinema aisles. We don’t care about no government warnings, about their promotion of a simple life and the dams they are building.”
