The act of love . . . is a confession. Selfishness screams aloud, vanity shows off, or else true generosity reveals itself.
Albert Camus
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Biên tập viên
On the Street Where You Live
I have often walked
Down the street before,
But the pavement always
Stayed beneath my feet before.
All at once am i
Several stories high,
Knowing I?m on the street where you live.
Are there lilac trees
In the heart of town?
Can you hear a lark in any other part of town?
Does enchantment pour
Out of every door?
No, it?s just on the street where you live.
And oh, the towering feeling
Just to know somehow you are near
The overpowering feeling
That any second you may suddenly appear.
People stop and stare
They don?t bother me,
For there?s no where else on earth
That I would rather be.
Let the time go by,
I won?t care if i
Can be here on the street where you live.
People stop and stare
They don?t bother me,
For there?s no where else on earth
That I would rather be.
Let the time go by
I won?t care if i
Can be here on the street where you live,
Let me be on the street where you live.