A gentle throb, a warm breath, The consciousness of travelling, Of the mysterious end Distinguish us from cold shadows. Mute voices in the universe, So different, so anonymous. Creators in the arts: Orphic, evocative spell. It's cosmic harmony which gets lost Into the infinite emptiness.
A gentle throb, a warm breath, The consciousness of travelling, Of the mysterious end Distinguish us from cold shadows. Mute voices in the universe, So different, so anonymous. Creators in the arts: Orphic, evocative spell. It's cosmic harmony which gets lost Into the infinite emptiness.
