There is a silence in my memory

I can not tell

as you have the will



We pass and dream

thus the god will

Smile,

without a reason why,

Love,

as if you were a child,

Smile,

no matter what they tell you.

Don't listen to a word they say

because life is beautiful that way.

Tears,

a tidal wave of tears,

light, that slowly disapears

Wait,

before you close the curtain

there is still another game to play

and life is beautiful that way.

Here in his eyes forever more

I will always be as close

as you remember from before.

Now that you are out

there on your own

remember what is real

and what we dream is love alone.

Keep the laughter in your eyes

very soon  your long awaited prize.

We'll forget about our sorrow

and think about a brighter day

because life is beautiful that way.

SINGER - NOA

COMPOSER - NICOLA PIOVANI

ROBERTO BENIGNI

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fAhSf4NKeLA



Hello, my dear!

Have a great weekend

Hugs

 



Hello, my dear!

Good evening & night!

Hugs



GOOD NIGHT



---

Good night, my dear!

Hugs

CÉU ROSÁRIO BY THE SEA

By the sea

The sea roars,

waves break on the shore

and water drops,

mixed with tears,

wet your face

when you, stand there by the sea,

are waiting for your love,

the dream you still have in mind

knowing yet

that love

lost as soon as came.

CHRIS MORRIS

FLORBELA ESPANCA BY YARA

Inconstância

Procurei o amor que me mentiu.
Pedi à Vida mais do que ela dava.
Eterna sonhadora edificava
Meu castelo de luz que me caiu!

Tanto clarão nas trevas refulgiu,
E tanto beijo a boca me queimava!
E era o sol que os longes deslumbrava
Igual a tanto sol que me fugiu!

Passei a vida a amar e a esquecer…
Um sol a apagar-se e outro a acender
Nas brumas dos atalhos por onde ando…

E este amor que assim me vai fugindo
É igual a outro amor que vai surgindo,
Que há de partir também… nem eu sei quando…

FLORBELA ESPACA



FERNANDO PESSOA BY YARA

    

Whether we write or speak are but seen

We are ever unapparent. What we are

Cannot be transfused into word or mien.

Our soul from us is infinitely far.

 However much we give our thoughts the will

        To make our soul with arts of self-show stored

Our hearts are incommunicable still.

 In what we show ourselves we are ignored.

The abyss from soul to soul cannot be bridgeD

By any skill of thought or trick for seeing.

Unto our very selves we are abridged

When we would utter  to our thought our being.

                We are our drems of ourselves, souls by gleams,

                   And each to each other dreams of others'dreams.

                           Tradução de Luísa Freire                           

Na escrita, na voz ou na aparência

Jamais nos revelamos. Nosso ser

Nem palavra nem semblante o vão dizer.

De nós a alma longe em permanência.

Por mais que a vontade ao pensar dermos

De, por artes, sermos revelados,

Os corações se quedam encerrados

E no que nos mostramos, escondemos.

Abismo de alma a alma intransponível

Não há pensar ou arte que o desfaça;

Distantes de nós mesmos, impossível

Nosso ser ao pensamento revelar.

Sonhos de nós, a alma em clarões passa

E um noutro se vê em seu sonhar.

FERNANDO PESSOA



YARA LANDRE MARQUES

INSIDE

Inside I fantasize and pretend

To never be deceived or destroyed

By forces unknown

Or love's vagaries

Indestructible I remain

Till death comes my way

And my body decays

Until that glorious day

Inside I cradle my soul

Protecting my psyche and emotions

From those who might destroy

Whatever freedom I have left

I choose to be left intact

A paramount of strength and fortitude

Against life's vicissitudes

I choose solitude

Inside is outside reversed

Where I've lived too long

Protected from no one

Whom might wish me harm

I now realize the irony

Of shelf-righteous retreat

For all who dare cheat

And in the end suffer defeat

A. KEITH BARTON

THE COMING OF WISDOM WITH TIME

                                                                                

THE COMING OF WISDOM WITH TIME

Though leaves are many, the root is one;

Though all the lying days of my youth

I swayed my leaves and flowers in the sun;

Now I may wither into the truth

W. B. YEATS