Palavras ditas ...

Se eu gosto de poesia?
Gosto de gente, bichos, plantas, lugares, chocolate, vinho, papos amenos, amizade, amor... Acho que a poesia está contida nisso tudo."
Carlos Drumond de Andrade

domingo, 26 de junho de 2011

Nothing More

My friend I know you've suffered,
Although you are still young.
Why was it you who'd not take help
From anyone?

Oh it's true, it's very true, he said,
Some hard times I have known,
But I have always overcome them
On my own.

Oh the pearls that you hold in your hand
They are beautiful to see,
But you show them not to anyone,
Not even me.

For you are like the others, he said.
I never can be sure
That you wish just to see the pearls
And nothing more.

Why can you not see reason?
Our lives they are not long.
Why can you take no time
To tell us all we're wrong?

My tune it does not change, he said,
And neither does your song,
And words I use them rarely
When I'm all alone.

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