Оригинален текст
Here is a scale. Weigh it out and you will find, easily, more than sufficient doubt that these colors you see were picked in advance by some careful hand with an absolute concept of beauty. They are smeared and these blurs come in random order and they color the eyes of your former lovers. Hers were green like July except when she cried they were red. Now I know a disease that these Doctors cant treat. You contract on the day you accept all you see is a mirror and a mirror is all it can be. A reflection of something were missing. And language just happened, it was never planned, and its inadequate to describe where I am in the room of my house where the light has never been waiting for this day to end. And these clocks keep unwinding and completely ignore everything that we hate or adore. Once the page of a calendar is turned its no more. So tell me then, what was it for? Oh tell me, what was it for?