In houses, in paintings,
in gardens, in the rain,
in the soul of all these things,
The rose told me, I searched in vain.
In the rivers, in the forests,
I even asked a fairy.
With her, we went west.
All I found was beauty.
In the clouds, in the stars, in the sea,
in the legends, at the foot of a rainbow,
I asked a leprechaun, and he laughed at me.
I asked the birds and all I saw was a crow.
In the branches of a hundred-year-old oak,
in the flowers, under a dark wooden bench,
in small villages, in mist and smoke,
I looked everywhere, but in French.
I've looked for your heart, but I haven't found it.
You've already given it away, and my friend, the Rose
has just faded. I won't be looking any longer, I suppose.
I gave you mine, but you didn't see it.
About the Creator
Tony herlin
A dreamer who neither speaks nor writes English, a difficult but highly instructive exercise. (Please accept my apologies for any inconvenience caused).
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.