segunda-feira, 6 de setembro de 2010

Yes, it is me...

Yes, it is me,
he one that is falling asleep lulled by a magic reddish sunset,
In a golden autumn preceding unknown winds
And profitable storms…
It is me, yes, the one that secretly hopes,
Once awakened by a new dawn,
To meet everything that was never met…

Yes, it is me, lost between shadows and light,
The one that longs for what eyes cannot see,
Ears cannot ear and skin cannot feel…
It is me, imbued in my single unique plurality,
The one who retires in winter and blossoms in spring
Never knowing when one or the other should be…

It is me alright,
The one that has cried out a thousand words
Finding that, after all,
The so longed new meaning
Abides in the endless silence of the whole…

It is me, yes,
The one that stumbles, falls and crawls
And stands upright again and again…
For the fall and the rise are so new every time
That one becomes the other and,
And at the end,
Ecstasy is where there was supposed to be pain…
'Cause no sorrow, no ache, no joy, nor delight
Is never ever the same…

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This obra is licensed under a Creative Commons Atribuição-Uso Não-Comercial-Não a obras derivadas 2.5 Portugal License.