woensdag 18 juli 2018
A place to live
I can still hear that violin play
it was across the road in the inn's
attick it stayed had a lonely sound
the cry of a lost hound
it stuck with me for a long time actually
for more than a while, I travelled along
on a road more than long
'till at the end of the line I reached my
home town with all the pines where patiently
waited my bride
at my wedding night it played for me
for the last time it was never heard of
again only when my first child came
its tune now a happy one it played at the
beginng of dawn shimmering lights wandered
across the fields after that the violin's tune ceased
to be
now an' then I try to whistle it again how much
I wish, it doesn't come to me again it must
have as I did found its place to live
(c) JR. 2015
Labels:
across,
attick,
cry,
hear,
jan robert huisman,
lost hound,
play,
road,
sound,
violin
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