拜伦雕像组图

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累斯博斯岛主

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电梯直达

1^#

发表于 2005-9-14 18:44 | 只看该作者回帖奖励

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I no longer have to do without now,
all colors are translated
into sounds and smells.
And they ring infinitely sweet
like tones.
why should I need a book?
The wind leafs through the tree;
and I know what passes there for words,
and sometimes repeat them softly.
And death, who plucks eye like flowers,
doesn't find my eyes...

13 精华	270 帖子	875 积分

累斯博斯岛主

Rank: 8 Rank: 8 Rank: 8 Rank: 8

发消息

2^#

楼主| 发表于 2005-9-14 18:44 | 只看该作者

I no longer have to do without now,
all colors are translated
into sounds and smells.
And they ring infinitely sweet
like tones.
why should I need a book?
The wind leafs through the tree;
and I know what passes there for words,
and sometimes repeat them softly.
And death, who plucks eye like flowers,
doesn't find my eyes...

回复支持反对

13 精华	270 帖子	875 积分

累斯博斯岛主

Rank: 8 Rank: 8 Rank: 8 Rank: 8

发消息

3^#

楼主| 发表于 2005-9-14 18:44 | 只看该作者

I no longer have to do without now,
all colors are translated
into sounds and smells.
And they ring infinitely sweet
like tones.
why should I need a book?
The wind leafs through the tree;
and I know what passes there for words,
and sometimes repeat them softly.
And death, who plucks eye like flowers,
doesn't find my eyes...

回复支持反对

13 精华	270 帖子	875 积分

累斯博斯岛主

Rank: 8 Rank: 8 Rank: 8 Rank: 8

发消息

4^#

楼主| 发表于 2005-9-14 18:45 | 只看该作者

I no longer have to do without now,
all colors are translated
into sounds and smells.
And they ring infinitely sweet
like tones.
why should I need a book?
The wind leafs through the tree;
and I know what passes there for words,
and sometimes repeat them softly.
And death, who plucks eye like flowers,
doesn't find my eyes...

回复支持反对

13 精华	270 帖子	875 积分

累斯博斯岛主

Rank: 8 Rank: 8 Rank: 8 Rank: 8

发消息

5^#

楼主| 发表于 2005-9-14 18:45 | 只看该作者

I no longer have to do without now,
all colors are translated
into sounds and smells.
And they ring infinitely sweet
like tones.
why should I need a book?
The wind leafs through the tree;
and I know what passes there for words,
and sometimes repeat them softly.
And death, who plucks eye like flowers,
doesn't find my eyes...

回复支持反对