Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Anjani
Anjani
Anjani
Anjani
Anjani
Anjani
Anjani
Anjani
Anjani
Anjani
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Let's say that on that lucky night
I found my house in order
and I could slip away unseen
tho' burning with desire
Escaping down a secret stair
I cross into the forest
the night is dark but I am safe—
my house at last in order
But luck or not, I do it right
and no one sees me leaving
hidden, blind and secret night—
my heart the only beacon
But O that beacon lights my way
more surely than the sun,
and She is waiting for me there—
of all and all, the only One
And then the night commands me
to enter in Her side
and be as Adam is to Eve
before they need divide
So I can show Her what's been kept
for Her and Her alone—
a secret place that Love had left
before the world was born
Her nipples underneath My hand
Her fingers in My hair—
a forest crying from the dead
and fragrance everywhere
And from the wall a grazing wind
weightless and serene
wounds Me as I part Her lips
and wounds Us in between
And fastened here, surrendered to
My Lover and My Lover,
We spread and drown as lilies do—
forever and forever