...

Quando você acha que sonhou por duas horas, foram essas duas horas mesmo um sonho, ou as horas que vieram antes e depois que são, na verdade esse sonho; e essas duas horas a pura e perfeita realidade?

I Have a Doubt!

Is this real?
Or am I dreaming?
Seems real enough, though...
Or a dream, through a screen.
I see one making shapes I used to make
In dreams
Where I pictured giving what she already brings
But, see, I'm still awake
Grinding every hour
Straightening every thought
Trying hard to find a clue
If this is real?
Or am I dreaming?
For I longed, and I waited for this feel
Hardly believing it could turn to be real
But, still, I have a doubt
Is this real?
Or am I dreaming...

Hearts for Japan

Sonhei que entrava em um pavilhão vermelho, os sinos de bronze soavam baixos ao vento. O enorme taiko da porta tinha sua pele enegrecida por algo que não era, jamais, natural. Dentro do pavilhão, a visão de crânios cravados em estacas que brotavam do chão salpicado de cores impuras tingiu minha retina. Dali até onde a vista podia enxergar. Soou um breve estalo de hyoshigi e sobre as estacas um grande crânio transparente surgiu flutuando. Lutei contra ele, bravamente, com todas as minhas forças. Fui ferindo o inimigo até ele me seguir furioso para fora onde soei o taiko arrancando a cor estranha de sua pele. O inimigo gritou e o hyoshigi soou novamente para ele sumir.
No meu sonho, o inimigo derrotado deixou o pavilhão vazio e levou consigo seus baluartes de horror. O chão estava tingido de vermelho onde juntei o povo ainda triste e abalado. Eles me ajudaram a estender um tecido branco por toda a sua extensão. Cantei e caminhei ao som de taikos e shamisens puros enquanto lançava sal por toda a terra. Purifiquei o solo sagrado do pavilhão e extraí até o último resquício do mal que esteve ali, entregando meu coração aos deuses daquela terra.
Demorou, mas aos poucos tudo foi voltando ao normal.

Don't

Don't suppose
Don't ask
Don't care

Don't support
Don't get to know
Don't be aware

Don't enjoy
Don't understand
Don't share

Don't approach
Don't look
Don't try

Don't smile
Don't show
Don't come close

And still care to expect some kind of return
For what?

Adeus

A não ser que seja compulsório, inevitável, incomensurável, nunca é fácil dizer adeus. Porém, a sensação que dá quando a gente diz um adeus fácil, é, diferente, senão, edificante. Eu disse adeus umas mil vezes, diante dessas estantes, desses livros, dessas porras desses cigarros de chocolate, dessas paredes que viraram janelas que viraram nada.
Não há limites, nunca me esqueci, jamais disse adeus para isso. Segui livre, de coração aberto, recebi novas lições aqui no auge de meus vinte e seis.
Em um ano e meio meu 'escritório' mudará de idioma oficial, farei toda a força que me cabe nos músculos e na mente para isso. Apenas laços finos se extenderão para além dos meus laços mais fortes, do sangue.
Vou dizer novos adeus fáceis, depois de muitos difíceis, vou sorrir dizendo esses adeus (for a change). Vou vencer um dia de cada vez para vencer grande. Sigo fechando um ciclo (closure), com a luz mais forte lá no fundo.
So, moving on!

Sunrise

Wondering if these days, this year, will see sunrise. I am kept in the work of my mind of every dawn. Pursuant to nothing but the things that will come. Like people in the morning sit by the ledge of a cliff full of green, staring at the ocean, and the line the crosses by; waiting for the time to come full circle of the day and sunrise!

I’m working with my eyes. I’m working with my feel. My will.

Wondering if I’m ever gonna see you again. If I’m ever gonna meet you, come again. Pursuant to nothing but to see things across my way. Like people in the dark, sitting by the gap in the curtains, by the wall; waiting for the rays to come with sunrise!

I’m working with my skin. I’m working with my time. My life.

________________________________________________

Título extraído da canção Sunrise de Simply Red

Potion Approaching

You are to drink
Potion approaching
Bitter and sweet
Potion beholding
Savoring dreams
Potion is the only option

The brew is thin
With leaves soft
Fumed dazzling flames
In boiling rock
We share ingredients
Not seen around

You are to fall
Potion approaching
To love’s remedy

Whilst I stir and I stir

All the concoctions
Growing among

Wish I could have
More time to infuse
The love to boil

Though time will tell
The point of cook
Should soon behold

Potion approaching
______________________________________________________


Título extraído da canção: Potion Approacing dos Arctic Monkeys

Dreaming With a Broken Heart

I’m writing a story… forgiving myself for not turning my own life into a writable story. Sometimes annoyed for not living an amusing life, other times relieved for not taking dangers and running risks. Reflecting dreams and intimate desires in characters and events, in novels and tales, just to make them come to some truth. For I just wish I was. I give myself powers beyond the beyond, fame above the world, charm and prowess to move and create everything. But my dreams are not only of joy. I make myself a villain, a ruthless enemy for everyone. And again, I don’t only dream of power. I give myself a great defeat, a foe I cannot beat, a life I won’t improve. I’m writing a story of everything I’m not, and everything I wanted and never wanted to be. Still I’m dreaming with a broken heart….

_________________________

Título extraído da canção: Dreaming With a Broken Heart de John Mayer

Old Yellow Bricks

To risk finding those old yellow bricks again, is to also risk breaking them before they return to block you. Yet they always come when you least expect, or when you foresee nothing wrong in you path ahead. That’s when, while you’re free of any worries, any awareness, preparedness, come those damn old yellow bricks again. Like a hiker you need to step thin for it may fall and squash you flat. Or be a climber trespassing them the hardest way. Often like a bulldozer, breaking everything in you path as a hulking creature. Though usually a mere loser, defeated by the heights, the strength, the blocking power of those old yellow bricks.
_________________________

Título extraído da canção: Old Yellow Bricks dos Arctic Monkeys.

The Drapery Falls

And so the drapery falls, after an act of many things. As the lady fell into misery, seeing his hero befall first defeat by the hands of the enemy. As a love is lost all over the perhaps, eventualities and occasions of open life. As storms ravaged every lands across uncountable places of wild, men and else. As blood got shed over pages of inevitable history of evolving minds.

The drapery falls, indeed, but only to extend a cloak between two acts. Then again it shall part and float atop revealing yet more stories, more acts of many things. May the hero conquer the enemy on the course of their second clash, only to return to the arms of his lady? May the love lost find, yet again, another love to live and who knows if it will be lost again or last? May new storms fall over the land to test the will and perseverance of wild, men and else; or sun will shine again ridding us all from further pain? May the inevitable history cease to shed so much blood on behalf of its evolving minds?

All the answers may come, only until the drapery falls… again.
______________________________________________

Song Entitled é uma nova série que começo e apresento com este texto. O conceito é escrever pequenas crônicas, poesias, textos e afins com títulos extraídos de canções.
Este primeiro texto foi escrito com o título "The Drapery Falls", canção da banda sueca OPETH.
Em breve novos textos da série 'SONG ENTITLED'.