Domingo, 29 de mayo de 2005, 21:26
(Kate Bush)
No sé si será porque viví muy intensamente la lectura de Emily Bronte, pero para mí es el mismísimo fantasma de Cathy rogando a Heathcliff en la noche.
Out on the wiley, windy moors
We’d roll and fall in green.
You had a temper like my jealousy:
Too hot, too greedy.
How could you leave me,
When I needed to possess you?
I hated you. I loved you, too.
Bad dreams in the night.
They told me I was going to lose the fight,
Leave behind my wuthering, wuthering
Wuthering heights.
Heathcliff, it’s me, Cathy.
Come home. I’m so cold!
Let me in your window.
Heathcliff, it’s me, Cathy.
Come home. I’m so cold!
Let me in your window.
Ooh, it gets dark! It gets lonely,
On the other side from you.
I pine a lot. I find the lot
Falls through without you.
I’m coming back, love.
Cruel Heathcliff, my one dream,
My only master.
Too long I roam in the night.
I’m coming back to his side, to put it right.
I’m coming home to wuthering, wuthering,
Wuthering heights,
Heathcliff, it’s me, Cathy.
Come home. I’m so cold!
Let me in your window.
Heathcliff, it’s me, Cathy.
Come home. I’m so cold!
Let me in your window.
Ooh! Let me have it.
Let me grab your soul away.
Ooh! Let me have it.
Let me grab your soul away.
You know it’s me, Cathy!
(i)Responsable: Eride | Manzana Sonora | Notas (5) | Referencias (0)
Vienen a dar la nota conmigo:
would | 13-06-2005 17:17:42
Eride | 16-06-2005 01:50:33
Ferio | 24-01-2006 00:46:10
Eride | 24-01-2006 23:58:41
Ferio | 25-01-2006 02:43:18
