belle2007–2002 |
dada2002–1999 |
sundance1999–1997 |
frere1997–1995 |
julian1995–1994 |
stone1994–1993 |
5 March 1998
Poor though I am,
yet rich enough
when your honey lips
touch me with the
sweet of all sweetness.
Devoid though I am,
yet replete enough
when your soft eyes
bless me with the
pure of all pureness.
Dead though I am,
yet alive enough
when your tender heart
fills me with the
love of all loveliness.
Copyright © 1998 Charles Fry
la vie me déchire For all the words I didn't write My two calloused hands Hold me in your arms so tightly; When springtime comes soft, sweet and warm the water of life these are the times geraniums sweet of all sweetness when Death first called my name Arms so pitiful Redemption The tears in your eyes tear me more than my own. Oh Seigneur A toi, l'humanité flesh of mortal man, immortal woman again an unknown stranger. canticle to my soul My tender heart dilates with each emancipation