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The wind tapped like a tired man,
and like a host, "Come in",
I boldly answered; entered then
my residence within.
A rapid footless guest,
to offer whom a chair,
were as impossible as hand
a sofa to the air.
No bone had he to bind him
his feet was like the push
of numerous hummingbirds at once
from a superior bush.
His countenance a billow
his fingers, if he pass,
let go a music, as of tunes
blown tremulous in glass.
He visited, still flitting;
then like a timid man,
again he tapped - 'twas flurriedly -
and I became alone.

Text přidal zanzara

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Tarpan Seasons (Solveig Slettahjell & Slow Motion Orchestra)

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Solveig Slettahjell texty

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