The Dream


…And one day, if I had cut to my ear in a ritual made with all my sincerity, as well as I made Van Gogh, I would send it you as an evidence of my love, as a sacred sacrifice for a goddess.

If I moved all the trash cans of the city with hope I would have, perhaps, found something its. He wanted to go up to the point highest of the city during putting of the sun, to look at the lighted lights without blinking my eyes, knowing that one amongst them is you.

…When I heard its voice, I was as if he was listening to symphony 40 of Mozart. If I was in a ship, in the way it open sea and below it sky that was abandoned by the stars, exactly illuminated for a weak light of the moon, would have distinguished its smells amongst the odors of the nauseating sea, around of the ship. If we were listening to a concert of violin of Mendelssohn, that is so melancholic, I and you would have bleed on the inside.

Of the book “Love and Solitude”, Erol Anar, in Turkish and Portuguese

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