Saturday, December 31, 2016
Ghazal of the morning Market, F.G.Lorca
(Gacela del mercado matutino, F.G.Lorca)
Ghazal of the morning Market
F.G.Lorca
I will watch as you pass
through the arch of Elvira,
I will whisper your name,
I will weep, and get nearer.
What grey moon drew the blood
from your velvety cheek?
Who would gather your seed
of snow, blazing and shriek?
What brief needle of cactus
cuts this crystal, unique?
I will watch as you pass
through the arch of Elvira,
I will drink your deep eyes,
I will weep, and get nearer.
What a voice to chastise me,
until I am torn!
What a ruptured carnation
midst heaps of green corn!
I’m far when I near you,
so close when you’re gone.
I will watch as you pass
through the arch of Elvira,
I will feel your sleek thighs,
I will weep, and get nearer.
Ghazal of the morning Market
F.G.Lorca
I will watch as you pass
through the arch of Elvira,
I will whisper your name,
I will weep, and get nearer.
What grey moon drew the blood
from your velvety cheek?
Who would gather your seed
of snow, blazing and shriek?
What brief needle of cactus
cuts this crystal, unique?
I will watch as you pass
through the arch of Elvira,
I will drink your deep eyes,
I will weep, and get nearer.
What a voice to chastise me,
until I am torn!
What a ruptured carnation
midst heaps of green corn!
I’m far when I near you,
so close when you’re gone.
I will watch as you pass
through the arch of Elvira,
I will feel your sleek thighs,
I will weep, and get nearer.
John Surman , Portrait of a Romantic
i would always like to re-place romantic with poetic..but i can do
this only in my context not for somebody else, it is his title
Friday, December 30, 2016
Thursday, December 29, 2016
peter green's fleetwood mac , need your love so bad
re-post...not someone, not somebody...not some lips..
Wednesday, December 28, 2016
Paloma Blanca
this white dove
chained inside.
you made it fly
for another day
la paloma blanca
it flies to green fields
of hope and release
trying to find you
over bridges across
the morning river,
roofs glimmering
in flowing light
this white dove,
chained at night,
feels its heart,
the sky, in flight
my paloma blanca
come rest on my hand,
lean your head
against my shoulder
we are the same,
two of a kind,
to rest and to fly,
to live and to die
Tuesday, December 27, 2016
ego trap
i heard about foxes and wolves
and a climber that they bite and gnaw
the stuck part to regain freedom.
what about the ego trap, the soul caught in the mind unable to sing?
is this why people commit suicide or enter a monastery? is this all?
no i cannot skim
the waves, i lost
my board, the
sea is wild today
no i cannot dance
with you, i lost
the rhythm, the floor
moves away today
no, i cannot stay
the same, i fly
into the dawn,
the silent death,
yes, through gates
to the unknown,
through pain
searching my heart
and yes, the day
was cold, i am,
i only only fly
to keep warm
don't ask,
all answers are
not what we mean
and we cannot listen
no, i cannot say
what i live.
no, and you
cannot.
and no, it was
not me who killed
the bird in the cage,
it was the cat.
Monday, December 26, 2016
Lisboa, today
so..a good day,
i could stop thinking.
though, as xmas is for me each day
i couldn't create and feel hope much, i failed,
but i lived and flowed in faith
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