somewhere beyond the barricade, is there a world you long to see ?

 

The summers die one by one
How soon they fly on and on.
And I am old and will be gone…

Yes, I am too old compared to my age, near the thirty. And talk like Rushdie, I dont know “if my crumbling, over-used body permits” me to have one or two another decades. But I have no expectation of lasting long, “nor can I count on even having a thousand and one night. I must work fast, faster than Scheherazade, if I am to end up meaning – yes, meaning – something. I admit it: above all thing, I fear absurdity.”

That, I knew from a long time ago, for me to doubt reaching even out of the twenty. Fighting all my life to put away the poison, sometime there was no way I can keep myself in harmony with my words. And those times were always the heaviest, just like last year.

But I also know, that in peace and in quiet, my words always come back to me.

Peace and quiet like this summer afternoon, listening to this beautiful voice, remembering there’re still beauties in this world.

The summers die one by one
How soon they fly on and on
And I am old and will be gone

Bring hime peace, bring him joy
He is young, he is only a boy
You can take, you can give
Let him be, let him live
If I die …
let me die…
Let he live
Bring him home
Bring him home
Bring him home

Who wouldn’t want a father like him ?

 

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