terça-feira, 27 de julho de 2010

I’ll live without it…Really honestly…I’m absolutely capable of keep going on.…and on and on…´cause that’s what I’ve been doing ever since .. ever since always…It doesn’t change anything…Really honestly…I won’t miss it…Not at all…Really honestly…I won’t even think of it…Not even drunk…Not even sober…Honestly…I’ll simply keep…Keep a half of it in my pocket.. And half of it …to the dust… But I may also keep it all…´cause the more I keep it, the less I remember…the less I remember that I may live…Even if I can’t... Even if I simply can’t leave it…
Really honestly… you know my words are not even worth… I’m a liar… I’m a lawyer… I just make terrible rhymes… Verses that you keep reading… I wonder why you do that… Why do you keep it …if it hurts so… My poetry is a knife… And you keep reading it… Leave it… ´cause I’ve left it all… And the wind keeps carrying me… keeping me tight… even when I want to stop… ´cause I can’t stop the seasons… But I can’t neither leave the seasons… Let me keep autumn… let me keep it... oh, autumn… Let me blow the dead flowers of may… ´cause I couldn’t stand the smell of lavender under your pillow… I couldn’t stand the colors of the garden… I’ll just keep the dead leaves… those sadly leaves that are left under the trees… My memories of autumn… My leaves… For how long have I been living you?…

segunda-feira, 19 de julho de 2010

O seu retorno
Retinge o quadro
Um visgo que rompe morto
Em um retrato abandonado

O seu retorno
Volve a janela
Venta saudoso meu jardim de vidro
Minhas violetas de poeira e canela

Seu retorno assim incerto
E tão certo meu desconcerto
E ainda sombra...tão perto

Lento ecoa o seu passo na esquina
Enquanto meu descompasso vagueia
Nos seus pés descalços
Ondas da areia
Pés de menina

Me assalta a lembrança
Um sopro por detrás
Vento leste, vagueia incerto
Me leva ao longe, por imensos areais

sexta-feira, 9 de julho de 2010

I ask myself why does it rains
Sensitive little drops
On my window that keeps open
Down a river of complains

My songs are raining
So as my gentle guitar
So as the songs I sing
Leading my voice too far

On my face and foots
I feel the drops coming down
And falling kindly on the roof
Wishing someone could pass around

It rains while I sleep
And while the clock rings
It rains on my pencil
And on the angels wings

I ask myself why does it rains
If I still feel dry that way
Even carrying an umbrella over my head
Even watching the death of the flowers of May

Why does it rains…
May I ask again?
…And he smiles to me and says
It rains…
Because It rains.