Said, not chanted words burnt themselves in my memory
„The light what never dies.“
I always translate freely
Without guarantee.
I do not want to know really the meaning.
Can be that she would be melancholic
One may not always hear this thus.
I know another light
Imaginarily
Every soul is like a light
In joy and torture,
In longing and effusiveness,
If we die
The light will be left
For good live
And be to be seen still in the infinity.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bXt4HfyFFYo
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All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Meike Schrut.
Published on e-Stories.org on 10/15/2009.
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