Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

صوت


واجهه المستخدم


مستوى الصعوبة


لهجة



لغة الواجهة

ar

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
1
التسجيل / تسجيل الدخول
Lyrkit

يتبرع

5$

Lyrkit

يتبرع

10$

Lyrkit

يتبرع

20$

Lyrkit

و/أو ادعمني في مواقع التواصل الاجتماعي. الشبكات:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Agnes Obel

Poem About Death

 

Poem About Death


It feels so strange
Shameless to think of death
When none of those one knows has died

Last night I dreamt I was dead
I came running with my dog into the room of the dead

There was nothing to be seen
Only stones and a few bushes
A landscape that travellers have often spoken of

I would rather not die here
But in my own home, where I was not dead

All the death
All the death
In the course of life and death

Write about death
Describe in the poem what you feel, concerning death

In the face of death I'm like an animal
And the animal can die but write nothing

The words die like flies
Their corpses everywhere, swept away from the white paper

Give the dirty little room

منتهي

هل قمت بإضافة كل الكلمات غير المألوفة من هذه الأغنية؟