Playing with your fingertips
on the strings of my weaknesses,
I don't want to be your muse.
I pray that you will free me
from the weight of your dire chords.
Thus putting down the bow of your
desires, kind of echoes inside of me,
I pray for my soul's ears
To get deaf to your harmonies!
on the strings of my weaknesses,
I don't want to be your muse.
I pray that you will free me
from the weight of your dire chords.
Thus putting down the bow of your
desires, kind of echoes inside of me,
I pray for my soul's ears
To get deaf to your harmonies!
Your hope is my despair,
A lullaby for my sorrows,
I am only the si minor.
From your score where you carelessly
drop the eighth of your inspiration.
How I wish I was nothing but a sigh
and not the reflection of your ego
anymore.
While the melodious flow of my tears
composes the sound of your harmonies,
I pray so that this prelude
marks the end of this sonata!
While my heartbeats give its rhythm
to the tones of your tempo,
I pray so that your music
finally falls in eternal silence.
While I keep chanting your lyrical works,
I implore your uttermost feeling…
May you stop directing my life!
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