It is a traveler of light, not of life
We began to feel horror even from our own shadow
The eye now asks for a spectacle of wonder
We are not surprised to have our own
Don't let your eyes burn with the flame of hope now
At what point did love bring us?
What kind of blood do we know?
Longing for us is at our feet
The wound may not be healed with this ointment
The veil of mercy would not cover us
The destination was his, the way was his
He was alone in the caravan
He also thought of walking along
Then it was his decision to change course
The heart asks why I am alone today
The people were his, was God also his?
I know why I cried in your name today
Thus every evening passes in hope
Today there is something to cry about in the evening
Sometimes the mourning of destiny, sometimes the grief of the world
There was crying at every step in the destination of love
The series of lamentations ended on me
There were so many tears in my eyes
The form of happiness in the time of remembrance
I cried in my failed heart
About the Creator
Remembering the rink
If you were there, you’ll never forget it. For decades, Durham Ice Rink was at the heart of the city’s social life. From Friday night ice discos to crowds roaring on the Wasps every Sunday, not to mention a proud history of figure skating and speed skating, the riverside rink was the place to be.
By Andy Potts5 days ago in Art
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