jeudi 6 mars 2008

Midlake - Young bride

My young bride,

Why are your shoulders like that of a tired old woman?

Like a tired old woman?

My young bride, why are your fingers like that of the hedge in winter?

Of the hedge in winter?

frozen lakes(?) and winter

snowshoes and hunters,

carried the curtail for you..

darkness and forests

grant you the longest

face made from pourage and stew..(?)

Aucun commentaire: