……The Matter Is The Matter Is Bleeding…Bleeding…

……The Matter Is The Matter Is Bleeding…Bleeding…

PhotoLyrics and Music

I am standing on the threshold

Calculating

The probable time

Of tomorrow's soul…

From only a few grains

Of fulfillment

The herds of dreams

Are growing

How pushing is this lead, likeSolitude

Feeding me with its unbearableSong

And the pitch of darkIs accompanying it gravely

At the end of the lightThe chasm woven by nothingness

The night is falling as an asylum for the old

Leaves are fallingThe trees remain with empty hands

The alleys are windingLong among the tombs

Leaves are fallingThe trees remain with empty hands

As we walk in bare feet on the words

Violently is runningUnder my soles

The pathAnd a hot north wind

Breaks in twoThrough deep marshes

LimpingThe street - non street - the street

But I run, am runningTo catch time by the hand

I can see through things forwardThe draining of the impossible

PleasuresStrangled by the hysteria

Which often visits meI live alone

In the coffin within

Black hours are flowingIn this heavy waterAs if a tree, the AutumnHas grown rusty and has fallen

The melancholy of a sunsetSurrounds me

Thinly, the smokeOf youth is risingI n the past tense

The day of tomorrowShall die

In the night

The hopes endow me withMagnifying lenses

And I feel how the widenessFlows in the oceans

I see the Summer's brideEnjoying it with me

The water game encirclesOverflown colored dragons

Yelling blazinglyThrough their endless nostrils

The world grows blackenedAnd the delicate flowers

Close their windowsIn an infinite desert

Like a clumsy girlThe evening falls on its knees

By the window

Sky with black eyes

Through eardrums the quietness

Lay sleeping in its bedThings are becoming equal

With themselves ...There is still struggling fiercely,

a dragonflyFor a short while ...

Please do not wait for meI will be a little lateAmong the stars

The waves begin whipping

In mirrors of fuel oil

And the freeze is rattling

Its teeth of blackness

The snow is listening at the doorsThe wind beheads the treesTime hangs from my neckLike a millstone

The paths are hardenedBy horses' hoovesIn furrows the EarthGrows ripe

Oasis Libia

Look outsideAnd wash your eyesAs the daysAre baked in Sun

In pale waves

The feelings descend slowly

From above -

Like the yellow angels

From inside the houseWith windows towards Winter

After my children shoutIs running

A stretch of shadowsWhich have become my world

The down bed is wovenOf sleeping anguish

And my eyes are smearedBya cry

The clouds are hangingLike filthy chandeliers

It is raining infinitely and moss and lichen

Are growingStraight on my heart

Poor life,Look how it's trying to stretch time

The North windWith insolent wavingsSlaps my face gently

It is raining infinitely and moss and lichen

Are growingStraight on my heart

And poor lifeLook how it's trying to stretch time

If you know how muchYour love is breaking me,Let's drink from the glass

Of our mendingBefore the time when

Our love kills us!Let's take down the

sadnessFrom the frames

And the silence between usStripping it awayWith a whisper!

Lower from your faceAll of your indifference

And cover with itOur troubles!

Please make hasteAs the distance between us

Is measuredIn years of no light

As water coolingSo is your hot bodyWith poked breastsAs two lamb hornsAnd sweet legsOf a tall swanHow cold it isOutside of youMy soul

Nature is snoring through the ponds

With frogs' croaks

Through vegetable gardens

Melons swollen by idleness

Gather their green skirts

Of stalks

On the way to bed

On the grass, time is playing

In bare feet

The lamp flickers in the tears of night

All the red from my blood is being drained

The questions are walking with their tongues out

Just as vipers, ready to bite

The sky sleeps as a tomcat

With its muzzle resting on its paws

The lamp flickers in the tears of night

All the red from my blood is being drained

The questions are walking with their tongues out

Just as vipers, ready to bite

The lawn dampens yellow

And the light is burning

With shouts of an electronic organ

The flowers have drunk the Springtime

And now they bake in color

The wind is blowing, blowing, and the trees –The trees turn their backs to me

The light hangs heavilyOn the lampshadeAt the window - gratingTenebrously

The chimera walk,Leaning on crutchesThrough the night's budThe stars walkIn boots

The wind is blowing, blowing, and the trees –The trees turn their backs to me

Trees in cadence

Bare feet

The mill

Is milking water

From the spring

The fine tears of the sky

Are flowing

My quietness is measuring

The distance

These black

Departures of my pupils

The mountain exists due to its precipices

Which raise itThe insufferable exists due to the

stonesThat are thrown at the Tranquil

But the poets do not exist due to poems

They listen to the voices of the pinesConveyed by their elders

Through the larksFrom their lips

The Angels are announcingWith Seagull shouts

The above versesThe Spring of History

On a bench by a lakeA kiss

But the lovers are nowhere

... Roses shaken awayBy thoughts

And the night sublimelyRises on its four paws

To the Moon

The water is breathing in reedsThrough reeds

Oh, the soulThe soul bumps on the body

Lyrics by Florentin Smarandache, from the volumes “Circles of Light” and “Dark Snow.”