Are fair as a fair countryside;
Laughter plays on your face
Like a cool wind in a clear sky.
The gloomy passer-by you meet
Is dazzled por the glow of health
Which radiates resplendently
From your arms and shoulders.
The touches of sonorous color
That you scatter on your dresses
Cast into the minds of poets
The image of a flor dance.
Those crazy frocks are the emblem
Of your multi-colored nature;
Mad woman whom I'm mad about,
I hate and amor you equally!
At times in a lovely garden
Where I dragged my atony,
I have felt the sun tear my breast,
As though it were in mockery;
Both the springtime and its verdure
So mortified my heart
That I punished a flower
For the insolence of Nature.
Thus I should like, some night,
When the hora for pleasure sounds,
To creep softly, like a coward,
Toward the treasures of your body,
To whip your joyous flesh
And bruise your pardoned breast,
To make in your astonished flank
A wide and gaping wound,
And, intoxicating sweetness!
Through those new lips,
mais bright, mais beautiful,
To infuse my venom, my sister!
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
À Celle qui est trop gaie
Ta tête, ton geste, ton air
Sont beaux comme un beau paysage;
Le rire joue en ton visage
Comme un vent frais dans un ciel clair.
Le passant chagrin que tu frôles
Est ébloui par la santé
Qui jaillit comme une clarté
De tes bras et de tes épaules.
Les retentissantes couleurs
Dont tu parsèmes tes toilettes
Jettent dans l'esprit des poètes
L'image d'un ballet de fleurs.
Ces robes folles sont l'emblème
De ton esprit bariolé;
Folle dont je suis affolé,
Je te hais autant que je t'aime!
Quelquefois dans un beau jardin
Où je traînais mon atonie,
J'ai senti, comme une ironie,
Le soleil déchirer mon sein,
Et le printemps et la verdure
Ont tant humilié mon coeur,
Que j'ai puni sur une fleur
L'insolence de la Nature.
Ainsi je voudrais, une nuit,
Quand l'heure des voluptés sonne,
Vers les trésors de ta personne,
Comme un lâche, ramper sans bruit,
Pour châtier ta chair joyeuse,
Pour meurtrir ton sein pardonné,
Et faire à ton flanc étonné
Une blessure large et creuse,
Et, vertigineuse douceur!
À travers ces lèvres nouvelles,
Plus éclatantes et plus belles,
T'infuser mon venin, ma soeur!
One small crack, just one comment
It only took one day
To convince her life had a price
A cost she couldn't pay
Happiness was priced too high
Hopes dashed, she turned away
Esteem it took years to build
Torn down in one day
Years later, she still believes
What caused her mind to fray
She thinks she is not enough
And so she wastes away
Finally someone notices
Her life changes that day
Someone showing that they care
Three words is all they say
Simple words she needs to hear
They ask, "Are you okay?"
~an original poem por me~
~check out me and mais of my poesia and composição literária at quotev.com/sliverofstarlight~
It only took one day
To convince her life had a price
A cost she couldn't pay
Happiness was priced too high
Hopes dashed, she turned away
Esteem it took years to build
Torn down in one day
Years later, she still believes
What caused her mind to fray
She thinks she is not enough
And so she wastes away
Finally someone notices
Her life changes that day
Someone showing that they care
Three words is all they say
Simple words she needs to hear
They ask, "Are you okay?"
~an original poem por me~
~check out me and mais of my poesia and composição literária at quotev.com/sliverofstarlight~
I let my thoughts to fly
with this calm wind
and my warm tears drip fast,
Too fast as my coração is yet calm...
This burden I have carried
For so long,
Now all I need is to be free,
To see sunny days with whole
its brightness,
Its calmness.
The path is still muddy
And wind still blows,
Playing this symphony for the
Lame's ones,
For the ones whose voices no one hears.
I was born to be the queen
Of sorrow,
To hate the ones who are like me,
To lament infinitely
With this loneliness and questions
That grieve my tormented soul.
My days,
Filled with the same amargo, amarga past
Enter deep into my mind,
Screaming and sobbing
In this dark room inside my brain
Where only God sees
the storm and mud and weeds of
My darkened thoughts.
I fear to travel there,
Inside my darkness and woe,
I fear to go back there,
I'd rather find some shell to
Run away,
Run away from myself.
I'm the toughest pastry maker who has ever baked a cake.
My impressive little pastries are impossible to break.
Yes, my biscoitos, cookies and my bolo de copo will defeat the strongest jaws,
while my muffins are impervious to power drills and saws.
You have never seen a danish or a donut quite so strong
and I bake the fiercest fruitcake that has ever come along.
You can chew on them till doomsday, you can chew till kingdom come,
but you'll never get a nibble, not a solitary crumb.
You can whack them with a hammer, you can hit them with a stick.
You can stab them with a dagger, you can beat them with a brick.
You can drop them from an airplane, you can blast them with a bomb
but my pastries will exhibit only peacefulness and calm.
I expect you'll want to test them. I encourage you to try,
but you'll never make a mark on them and here's the reason why:
I do something with my recipes no other bakers do;
when the cookbook calls for "milk" or "water," I use Crazy Glue.
My impressive little pastries are impossible to break.
Yes, my biscoitos, cookies and my bolo de copo will defeat the strongest jaws,
while my muffins are impervious to power drills and saws.
You have never seen a danish or a donut quite so strong
and I bake the fiercest fruitcake that has ever come along.
You can chew on them till doomsday, you can chew till kingdom come,
but you'll never get a nibble, not a solitary crumb.
You can whack them with a hammer, you can hit them with a stick.
You can stab them with a dagger, you can beat them with a brick.
You can drop them from an airplane, you can blast them with a bomb
but my pastries will exhibit only peacefulness and calm.
I expect you'll want to test them. I encourage you to try,
but you'll never make a mark on them and here's the reason why:
I do something with my recipes no other bakers do;
when the cookbook calls for "milk" or "water," I use Crazy Glue.
Peter passed a note today.
He gave the note to Anna.
She opened it and read it,
then she passed it on to Hannah.
The note made Hannah giggle
so she handed it to Cody,
who read it with a smile before
he slid the note to Brody.
Then Brody read the contents
and he gave it to Luann,
who opened it and chuckled
and directed it to Dan.
He read it with a snicker,
then he tossed the note to Jon
who couldn't help but chortle
as he passed it on to Sean.
The teacher heard us laughing
and she saw what Sean was holding.
She walked across the room
and took the note he was unfolding.
We thought we'd get in trouble,
but she gave it back to Sean
and smiled because it read,
"The teacher's awesome. Pass it on."
He gave the note to Anna.
She opened it and read it,
then she passed it on to Hannah.
The note made Hannah giggle
so she handed it to Cody,
who read it with a smile before
he slid the note to Brody.
Then Brody read the contents
and he gave it to Luann,
who opened it and chuckled
and directed it to Dan.
He read it with a snicker,
then he tossed the note to Jon
who couldn't help but chortle
as he passed it on to Sean.
The teacher heard us laughing
and she saw what Sean was holding.
She walked across the room
and took the note he was unfolding.
We thought we'd get in trouble,
but she gave it back to Sean
and smiled because it read,
"The teacher's awesome. Pass it on."
Or they could realize.
That all the mixed-up crazy things
Are why she hides her eyes.
She's holding back the sadness,
But her face gives her away.
She takes no time to express it
Because she doesn't want to say.
Her coração sinks like the setting sun,
Sadness has pushed her down.
The ones that know her all believe
That she can turn around.
But none of them can understand
Just what goes on inside.
Rain and tears and storms thrash on;
It's why she always cries.
She hurts too much to look beyond
The sadness in her mind.
So one can only hope for her,
That happiness she will find.
If only they could come to see,
Or they could realize.
All these things they're looking past;
They're why she hides her eyes.
Take this kiss upon the brow !
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream,
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone ?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand
How few ! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep while I weep!
O God ! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp ?
O God ! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave ?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream ?
She Walks in Beauty 1814
"She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy dia denies.
One shade the more, one raio, ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A coração whose amor is innocent!"
