She Remembers
Max Ritcher (@EMood)
این آهنگ دقیقا برای همین لحظات از شب نواخته شده.
برای غم. غمِ دلنشین.
زیباترین و دلنشینترین آهنگ منظومهی شمسی کدام است؟ خب معلوم است؛ شی ریمِمبِرز.
برای غم. غمِ دلنشین.
زیباترین و دلنشینترین آهنگ منظومهی شمسی کدام است؟ خب معلوم است؛ شی ریمِمبِرز.
Short Memory
Evgeny Grinko
Torrent of light and river of the air,
Along whose bed the glimmering stars are seen
Like gold and silver sands in some ravine
Where mountain streams have left their channels bare!
The Spaniard sees in thee the pathway, where
His patron saint descended in the sheen
Of his celestial armor, on serene
and quiet nights, when all the heavens were fair.
Not this I see, nor yet the ancient fable
Of Phaeton’s wild course, that scorched the skies
Where’er the hoofs of his hot coursers trod;
But the white drift of worlds o’er chasms of sable,
The star-dust, that is whirled aloft and flies
From the invisible chariot-wheels of God
Along whose bed the glimmering stars are seen
Like gold and silver sands in some ravine
Where mountain streams have left their channels bare!
The Spaniard sees in thee the pathway, where
His patron saint descended in the sheen
Of his celestial armor, on serene
and quiet nights, when all the heavens were fair.
Not this I see, nor yet the ancient fable
Of Phaeton’s wild course, that scorched the skies
Where’er the hoofs of his hot coursers trod;
But the white drift of worlds o’er chasms of sable,
The star-dust, that is whirled aloft and flies
From the invisible chariot-wheels of God
Someone Who Forgot His Watch
Evgeny Grinko
Silence,
Silence,
Silence,
Shushing.
Why is it we sigh in relief?
A leap for joy when no words are to be said.
The fading of a pounding sensation in the head.
The souls who most long for it seem to never find it.
Silence,
Silence,
Silence,
I must shush now before my words become poison to someone else's mind.
Silence,
Silence,
Shushing.
Why is it we sigh in relief?
A leap for joy when no words are to be said.
The fading of a pounding sensation in the head.
The souls who most long for it seem to never find it.
Silence,
Silence,
Silence,
I must shush now before my words become poison to someone else's mind.
Forwarded from The Feelings
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G-Dur (Unnamed)
Evgeny Grinko
Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory—
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.
Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the beloved’s bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.
Vibrates in the memory—
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.
Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the beloved’s bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.