Sunday, April 17, 2011

#462

(image by Tugrul Karacan)


Do alto da árvore
vejo mais longe;

eu não posso voar,
o quintal é o meu mundo;
levo vinte e três segundos
para ir de um lado ao outro.

Mas eu estou crescendo,
não vou chorar.


I stand at the top of the tree
watching distances;

I cannot fly,
the yard is my world
It takes me twenty-three seconds
to go from one side to the other.

But I am growing up,
I won't cry.


(To Gui, on the occasion of his 16th birthday)

24 comments:

  1. Yeah, it gives you a punch in the gut when you find out that you can't fly. it's devastating. Well written.

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  2. I love this, and I especially love the picture - would love to live in that little house in a tree!

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  3. Utterly charming...contains the magic of childhood and the wistfulness of adulthood.
    Striking.

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  4. "Mas eu estou crescendo,
    não vou chorar."

    Belíssimo* Forte*

    Bjo!!

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  5. A wistful hope, this is lovely.

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  6. It is like though confined, one can learn so much from a distance? That is the message I am reading from your nice write :)
    http://lynnaima.wordpress.com/2011/04/16/youre-my-reason/

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  7. Quite charming poem. True. Disconcerting to know you cannot fly ... or, not yet.

    Lovely - very lovely - bog theme.

    Happy Potluck!

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  8. growing up and won't cry,

    love that.
    Thanks for sharing.

    A++

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  9. I'm still trying to fly,
    And I won't give up,
    I don't know why. Slow learning curve, maybe. Should have figured that out long ago.

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  10. It takes me twenty-three seconds
    to go from one side to the other.

    Not a bad rate at all! Such a lovely poem Kenia.. :)

    Sunday Hugs xx

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  11. A hopeful piece... yet limitted by its boundaries.

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  12. Tambeḿ estou crescendo, e tentando não chorar.
    Adorei a imagem *-*

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  13. wonderful! and i'm wondering, when is it easier to fly -- when one is young or old?

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  14. as we grow, we live and love a little more.

    Luna

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  15. I really like this - there's a slight oddness at play that's really endearing and sweet

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  16. Really precious piece that accompanies the image just so.

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  17. Sinto que há muitos espaços que ficaram pequenos para minha imaginação, o corpo parece já não pertencer.

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  18. I like your bilingual blog and find this poem to be beautiful. Thank you!

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  19. mmmm.. so sweet how you capture the determination of a child wanting to catch up in growth but being impeded by age which no one can control.. here's my potluck.. http://fiveloaf.wordpress.com/2010/02/22/springtide/

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  20. E por onde andaria o rabo da lagartixa?

    Lindo e pueril.

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  21. AMO tanto suas palavras querida, me inspiram desde o começo inclusive para fazer o meu blog. Você é um amor de pessoa...e suas palavras sempre chegam no meu coração. Tem homenagem pra vc no Words are Lost. beijos =D

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