A portrait.
Wounded by convictions, he came from August.
A mother's perilous love stolen away by a mirror.
He's sideways between the rhinoceros and politics,
like a fissure separating epics.
Oh, conspirators, I'm nothing now but a common wanderer,
walking the cavernous museum's chessboard,
trading places with strangers.
Great passion's never outdated, but our visits require secrecy.
Suddenly I feel the ache of strings you're tuning.
Play me a song, somewhere predators
haven't yet risen into our history.
一副肖像
为信念所伤 他来自8月
那危险的母爱被一面镜子夺去
他侧身于犀牛与政治之间
向裂缝隔开时代
啊 同谋者 此刻
隔开时代
啊 同谋者
此刻 我只是一个普通的游客
在博物馆大厅的棋盘上和别人交叉走动
激情不会过时 但访问必须秘密进行
我突然感到那琴弦的疼痛
你调音为我奏一曲
在众兽涌入历史之前