there is a quiet in my heart, like one who rests from days of pain
outside, the sparrows on the roof are chirping in the dripping rain
rain in my heart; rain on the roof; and memory sleeps beneath the gray
and windless sky and brings no dreams of any well remembered day
i would not have the heavens fair, nor golden clouds, nor breezes mild,
but days like this, until my heart to loss of you is reconciled
i would not see you. every hope To know you as you were has ranged
i, who am altered, would not find The face i loved so greatly changed

در چشمانی درست، تبدیل به یک اثر هنری خواهی شد.

strawberry fields

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