✕
Vertaling
Tomorrow
Mother says that every three seconds,
after the siren, outside there, they play a game.
They make explode a thousand paper bags,
but that I cannot go there, that it’s still too cold.
We spend a moment inside the room,
with the thread of the light bulb that can’t provide much brightness,
and with a gentleman to whom they speak but he’s not there.
I think that my tin horse is already bored.
I watch the wallpaper
that has a design I don’t quite like.
Mother tells me to clean the plate,
and that there’s a hole in the spoon.
And that tomorrow, maybe tomorrow,
amid a thousand things that cross my mind,
I will find a star
hidden among millions of winters.
And that I’ll be allowed to choose, maybe tomorrow,
among three lives that a cat should have.
We’ll count backwards through the first one.
Mother says that time is a treasure,
that it’s invisible to the eyes and keeps the rhythm of the heart;
that it turns around to make simulations,
and it waits inside a clock for tomorrow to be already there.
I can still hear the paper bags
behind the weight of the ceiling that today acts as the sky.
And I think about the words that there are in the world,
until a dream punches its weight, until sleep arrives.
A monotonous sound of the violin
comes from the radio next door.
Mother says that I’m lucky
that neither a dragon, nor a wolf exists.
And that tomorrow, maybe tomorrow,
amid a thousand things that cross my mind,
I will find a star
hidden among millions of winters.
And that I’ll be allowed to choose, maybe tomorrow,
among three lives that a cat should have.
We’ll count backwards through the first one.
And that I’ll be allowed to choose, maybe tomorrow,
among three lives that a cat should have.
We’ll count backwards through the first one.
Azalia✕
Blaumut: Top 3
| 1. | Pa amb oli i sal |
| 2. | Bicicletes |
| 3. | Simplement |
Idioms from "Demà"
| 1. | Cross my mind |
Gegeven reacties
Russia is waging a disgraceful war on Ukraine. Sta achter Oekraïne!
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