Căutare versuri

Alina Eremia - De sticla versuri lyrics

Limba: 
Artist: 
Alina Eremia - De sticla pe Amazon
Alina Eremia - De sticla ceas pe YouTube
Alina Eremia - De sticla asculta pe Soundcloud

De sticla

Spune-mi iubire, pentru tine a fost doar un joc?
De ce doar tu ai fost cel cu noroc
In castelul de cristal te-am urcat pe piedestal
Te-am facut stapan pe lumea mea
 
Tu cu sufletul de piatra, eu cu inima de sticla
Am avut prea mult curaj si am dat voie sa te prinda
Ce pacat, am crezut in povesti pentru o clipa
Doar ca in povestea mea eu strang plangand cioburi de sticla
 
Spune-mi iubire, langa mine ai fost fericit?
Iar pentru zambetele tale tot eu am de platit
As da timpul inapoi si te-as pierde printre foi
Sa nu te mai cant acum de dor..
 
Toata dragostea si fericirea le-ai dat cu imprumut
Am mers cu ochii inchisi pe al tau fir de ata pana s-a rupt
Am cazut si dau vina pe mine
Mult prea oarba sa nu cred in tine
 
Prea naiva sa nu cred in noi..
 
Tu cu sufletul de piatra, eu cu inima de sticlaaa
Am avut prea mult curaj si am dat voie sa te prinda
Ce pacat, am crezut in povesti pentru o clipa
Doar ca in povestea mea eu strang plangand cioburi de sticla (x2)
 

Mai multe versuri din acest artist: Alina Eremia


Cu pictogramele de pe bara laterală dreapta puteți viziona, asculta sau cumpara on-line the De sticla fișier de muzică sau CD.

În cazul în care doriți să descărcați această muzică aveți posibilitatea să faceți clic pe pictograma mp3 de pe bara laterală dreapta.


Versurile pot utiliza numai pentru uzul personal sau de educație. Alina Eremia versuri lyrics dreptul de autor este proprietarul acestui cântec.



Mai multe versuri

The Rose

1
 
There are those to whom place is unimportant,
But this place, where sea and fresh water meet,
Is important–
Where the hawks sway out into the wind,
Without a single wingbeat,
And the eagles sail low over the fir trees,
And the gulls cry against the crows
In the curved harbors,
And the tide rises up against the grass
Nibbled by sheep and rabbits.
 
A time for watching the tide,
For the heron's hieratic fishing,
For the sleepy cries of the towhee,
The morning birds gone, the twittering finches,
But still the flash of the kingfisher, the wingbeat of the scoter,
The sun a ball of fire coming down over the water,
The last geese crossing against the reflected afterlight,
The moon retreating into a vague cloud-shape
To the cries of the owl, the eerie whooper.
The old log subsides with the lessening waves,
And there is silence.
 
I sway outside myself
Into the darkening currents,
Into the small spillage of driftwood,
The waters swirling past the tiny headlands.
Was it here I wore a crown of birds for a moment
While on a far point of the rocks
The light heightened,
And below, in a mist out of nowhere,
The first rain gathered?
 
2
 
As when a ship sails with a light wind–
The waves less than the ripples made by rising fish,
The lacelike wrinkles of the wake widening, thinning out,
Sliding away from the traveler's eye,
The prow pitching easily up and down,
The whole ship rolling slightly sideways,
The stern high, dipping like a child's boat in a pond–
Our motion continues.
 
But this rose, this rose in the sea-wind,
Stays,
Stays in its true place,
Flowering out of the dark,
Widening at high noon, face upward,
A single wild rose, struggling out of the white embrace of the morning-glory,
Out of the briary hedge, the tangle of matted underbrush,
Beyond the clover, the ragged hay,
Beyond the sea pine, the oak, the wind-tipped madrona,
Moving with the waves, the undulating driftwood,
Where the slow creek winds down to the black sand of the shore
With its thick grassy scum and crabs scuttling back into their glistening craters.
 
And I think of roses, roses,
White and red, in the wide six-hundred-foot greenhouses,
And my father standing astride the cement benches,
Lifting me high over the four-foot stems, the Mrs. Russells, and his own elaborate hybrids,
And how those flowerheads seemed to flow toward me, to beckon me, only a child, out of myself.
What need for heaven, then,
With that man, and those roses?
 
3
 
What do they tell us, sound and silence?
I think of American sounds in silence:
On the banks of the Tombstone, the wind-harps having their say,
The thrush singing alone, that easy bird,
The killdeer whistling away from me,
The mimetic chortling of the catbird
Down in the corner of the garden, among the raggedy lilacs,
The bobolink skirring from a broken fencepost,
The bluebird, lover of holes in old wood, lilting its light song,
And that thin cry, like a needle piercing the ear, the insistent cicada,
And the ticking of snow around oil drums in the Dakotas,
The thin whine of telephone wires in the wind of a Michigan winter,
The shriek of nails as old shingles are ripped from the top of a roof,
The bulldozer backing away, the hiss of the sandblaster,
And the deep chorus of horns coming up from the streets in early morning.
I return to the twittering of swallows above water,
And that sound, that single sound,
When the mind remembers all,
And gently the light enters the sleeping soul,
A sound so thin it could not woo a bird,
 
Beautiful my desire, and the place of my desire.
 
I think of the rock singing, and light making its own silence,
At the edge of ripening meadow, in early summer,
The moon lolling in the close elm, a shimmer of silver,
Or that lonely time before the breaking of morning
When the slow freight winds along the edge of the ravaged hillside,
And the wind tries the shape of a tree,
While the moon lingers,
And a drop of rain water hangs at the tip of a leaf
Shifting in the wakening sunlight
Like the eye of a new-caught fish.
 
4
 
I live with rocks, their weeds,
Their filmy fringes of green, their harsh
Edges, their holes
Cut by the sea-slime, far from the crash
Of the long swell,
The oily, tar-laden walls
Of the toppling waves,
Where the salmon ease their way into the kelp beds,
And the sea rearranges itself among the small islands.
 
Near this rose, in this grove of sun-parched, wind-warped madronas,
Among the half-dead trees, I came upon the true ease of myself,
As if another man appeared out of the depths of my being,
And I stood outside myself,
Beyond becoming and perishing,
A something wholly other,
As if I swayed out on the wildest wave alive,
And yet was still.
And I rejoiced in being what I was:
In the lilac change, the whit reptilian calm,
In the bird beyond the bough, the single one
With all the air to greet him as he flies,
The dolphin rising from the darkening waves;
 
And in this rose, this rose in the sea-wind,
Rooted in stone, keeping the whole of light,
Gathering into itself sound and silence–
Mine and the sea-wind's.
 

Cine este Dumnezeu

Cine este Dumnezeu, mare ca Dumnezeul nostru?
Tu ești Dumnezeu, Care faci minuni.
 

Preachin' The Blues

Yes, I'm gonna get me religion
I'm gonna join the Baptist Church
Yes, I'm gonna get me religion
I'm gonna join the Baptist Church
You know I wanna be a Baptist preacher
Just so I won't have to work.
 
One sister jumped up and she began to shout
One sister jumped up and she began to shout
'You know I'm glad this corn liquor's goin' out'.
 
One deacon jumped up and he began to grin
One deacon jumped up and he began to grin
You know he said, 'One thing, elder I believe
I'll go back to barrelhousin' again'.
 
Another deacon jumped up and said, 'Why don't ya hush?'
Another deacon jumped up and said, 'Why don't ya hush?
You know you drink corn liquor and your lie's a horrible stink'.
 
One sister jumped up and she began to shout
One sister jumped up and she began to shout
'I believe I can tell y'all what it's all about'.
 
Another sister jumped up, she said, 'Why don't ya hush?'
Another sister jumped up, she said, 'Why don't ya hush?
You know he's abandoned, and you outta hush your fuss'.
 
I was in the pulpit, I's jumpin' up and down
I was in the pulpit, I's jumpin' up and down
My sisters in the corner, they're hollerin' Alabama bound.
 
Grabbed up my suitcase and I took off down the road
Grabbed up my suitcase and I took off down the road
I said, 'Farewell church, may the good Lord bless your soul'.
 
You know I wish I had a heaven of my own
You know I wish I had a heaven of my own
I'd give all my women a good ole happy home.
 
I'm gonna preach these blues
And I'm gonna choose my seat and sit down
I'm gonna preach these blues
And I'm gonna choose my seat and sit down
But, when the Spirit comes, I want you to.
 

The Vanishing Race

Ii Ii ou Ii Ii Ii ou Ii Ii ou
Oh wagon trains rollin' along
They fade from my visions
And in time will be gone
I see an eagle in space
My people will follow
Oh oh a vanishing race
 
Ii Ii ou Ii Ii Ii ou Ii Ii ou
An Indian brave rolled along one day
On a lonely mountain trail
And he gazed below with a heart of woe
Where the prairie schooners sail
A vision formed like a mortal storm
In the dust of the wagon train
A vanishing race appeared in space
And he sang his sad refrain
 
Ii Ii ou Ii Ii Ii ou Ii Ii ou
Oh wagon trains rollin' along...
Oh now great spirits on high
Please spare them the sorrow
You show to my eye oh oh
Now my blankets are roll
And I ride to the valley
Of the brave Navajo oh oh
 
Ii Ii ou Ii Ii Ii ou Ii Ii ou
And I ride to the valley
Of the brave Navajo oh oh
 
Oh oh a vanishing Navajo
Oh the vanishing Navajo
Ii Ii ou Ii Ii Ii ou Ii Ii ou