Carla Bruni No Promises Autumn There is a wind where the rose was; cold rain where sweet grass was; and clouds like sheep stream o'er the steep grey skies where the lark was. Nought gold where you hair was; nought warm where your hand was; but phantom,forlorn, beneath the thorn, your ghost where your face was. Sad winds where your voice was; tears,tears where my heart was; and ever with me child,ever with me, silence where hope was. |
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