Such a longing for love, rolling itself up under my heart,
poured down much mist over my eyes,
filching out of my chest the soft lungs—
Such a longing for love, rolling itself up under my heart,
poured down much mist over my eyes,
filching out of my chest the soft lungs—
Quote text
“Those who paint a landscape for the sake of painting a landscape, those who write a symphony just for the sake of writing a symphony are in the best of cases good craftsmen. I cannot conceive of works of art other than as manifestations of their makers’ limitless enthusiasm, despair, sorrow, anger, revenge, scorn, and sarcasm.”
Béla Bartók