I want to die here, on this pavement
Lying, watching the bluestar swirling,
Flying up, and down - endlessly
As the years pass by
Up, and down
Carried by the wind
Forever


No time involved,
It's still there
Calm and peaceful
Not thinking 'bout the past,
Nor about the future
Like a ghost I'm strolling there,
Out of time, smiling, talking.
Spring or winter -
-The bluestar doesn't care.


Red wine, cobblestone and cruising,
Heaven and clouds in the rain
Sparkles.
I want to visit you,
Place of no time,
I want to visit you a thousand more times!
And when the departure is about to come
I want to lie there, calmly
Drawing the smoke, and letting it out.
Watching the bluestar getting closer, getting farther
This day, I'm going to catch it
And fly high
As the spring and winter remain,
Calm and peaceful - forever.

Smoke in my Forest,
Swirling all around
the branches of trees,
On the timeless day.

Lack of it, causes
stagnation of my
playful animals.
Too much - kills my birds,
making them unable
to fly and to see.

                              
                            ­  The trees' dim branches,
                              twisted and leafless,
                              In the land out of
                              this world, where fairies took
                              a place of the birds,
                              and where the fog floats.

Who is the best sculptor, you might ask?
It is the one who respects the stone.
Scultping a strong arm is his sole task,
So the rock can form itself alone.

The empire you have built,
Yet you so fragile, so unstable and lost
Deserted,
Just need a hug
Your name, written with neons, up there
Yet you just - a human being
In a need

Free cry, free king!
In and out, not loud.
The paint sinks in the sand;
Blue, red and white,
And green and whi-te.

They scrape the steel,
The sounds, yes they do.

I see the paint flowing,
I feel the sickness growing
Out! And in
-Sinking in

               The landlors are calling me,
               And the bright blue obscures my vision
               Is the sand falling?








And as the crimson wine soaks in,
And the worms finish their feast,
I slowly go insane.

So, you think the tower of Babel
Is a thing of past?
Look around and see
The frenzied termites and their mounds of steel,
Hoping to reach the Sky.

The dour grey city
As I'm walking through it
My eyes, my brain confused
With the malicious colours
    (Green and red, at once?
    What am I SUPPOSED to do?)
Switching, shifting,
The tension is growing,
And drivers are honking at me
Crossed the road, woops, the light was RED.
    (I'm a daltonist
    Gonna shatter these lights someday.)