A sudden movement,
a little earthquake,
and as the first sun rises,
a new day begins.
A drop – fallen on the ground –
a dog – barking at a bee –
and life as never been
so unsteadily clean.
A sudden movement,
a little earthquake,
and as the first sun rises,
a new day begins.
A drop – fallen on the ground –
a dog – barking at a bee –
and life as never been
so unsteadily clean.
Summer is a season made of sun,
but my feet are still cold.
August could be just like
some misjudged month.
There’s an island kissed by the sun,
with blue sea and colourful flowers.
Fruits are always ripen and
fishes fill the sea:
if the weather is too hot,
a fresh breeze reminds that the sea is near.
This island still survives, struggling everyday
against someone – which is everybody-
who’s trying to suck away all its life.
He was walking fast under a summer sun,
too busy with his phone to realize
that half of his life was gone.
Summer is a season of sun, hot weather and bright sky.
So why does my heart feel so cold?
He’s my sun, my hope and future.
I breathe because of him.
If he no more will be here – I know-
It will surely be my end.
On a fine day sun is shining,
air is fresh and birds can sing.
On a bad day sun is shining,
air is fresh and birds do sing.
The difference lies between us.
Facing the sun, after so much rain,
– doesn’t matter if it’s just a thin ray –
opens a curtain of hope.
If rain was falling
she used to close every window,
if sun was shining
she used to close every window.
There was always a reason to lock herself in.
On a fine day she took care of an old man.
He looked so pitiful that
she washed his clothes and
had him take a shower.
He kept on talking about his glorious past,
and how sun was warmer then.