Matikář - naučíme matematiku. Každého. - nová česká sázková kancelář

Pale Song (Klimt 1918)

Giddy stars, Legends tell Ceasing their hymns Falastin attends you now Israfel is your name So legends guess Despisest all pale song No one sings so wildly well As angel that trods skies And red loving moon We move: And they say He fades in our eyes We sing now Of freedom and rain But she is gone Brown eyes can't rain no more Just marble skin Where sun grew up us In Heaven, a spirit dwell Whose heart-strings are a lute Her lyre was, a little gun It sang like freedom calls I touch the mud So sweet So warm It's inside me I touch the mud You see So warm It's inside me We touch our mud A dream Our will It's a grave in filth I touch the mud Your eyes Your hand It's inside you No one sings so hardly well As poor man that loose Love and red loving fear As soldier that Swim in the fields of bodies He holds a lyre of doom The doom of earth & wish The wish Israphel