(Image by Léa)
Agora eu me lembro
do que queria ser
quando ainda era
uma criança.
Procurei por toda parte
por um fio de cabelo,
uma pegada,
uma gota de sangue:
Então encontrei você.
Alguns dias são bons,
não temos que nos esconder
em espelhos,
ou tocas de coelhos,
ou debaixo de pedras.
Alguns dias são cinzentos.
Derramo o café,
não consigo caminhar entre as nuvens.
Não é fácil viver uma vida
sem saber dos teus olhos.
Now
I remember
what I wanted to be
when I was a child.
I searched everywhere
for a strand of hair,
a footprint,
a drop of blood:
then I found you.
Some days are beautiful,
we don't have to hide in mirrors,
or rabbit holes,
or under stones.
Some days are gray.
I spill my coffee
and fail to
walk among the clouds.
It's not easy to go through a lifetime unaware of your eyes.
Posted to dVerse Poets - Open link night week 27
Beautiful poem
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem, Kenia! When I was a child, what I wanted had little resemblance to what i became, I think. That's okay, as the dreams were good dreams.
ReplyDeleteaw. touching :)
ReplyDelete"Some days are beautiful..."
ReplyDelete"Some days are gray..."
Such is life, and you have captured it well. Nicely penned!
A beautiful poem with a killer last line. <3
ReplyDeleteThis is a wise and knowing poem.
ReplyDeleteWise words indeed, sometimes just have to push on through.
ReplyDeletewhen i was a child i wanted to be a cop, far from that now...well maybe not really i just get there before the cops...like the opening stanza much as it sent me pondering...and the last line brought me back
ReplyDeleteI spill my coffee
ReplyDeleteand fail to
walk among the clouds...oh we should never..i wanted to be a surgeon when i was a kid...no idea why...i would faint i think.. smiles... always like that you write your poems in two languages, maybe should write in german and english as well
Beautiful poem...I dreamed as a child of being a singer...my voice said no to that one.
ReplyDeleteand so what mystery, what magic are you after? (maybe this is why you are so familiar, your dream is familiar.)
ReplyDeletewithout the mystery or magic there is nothing.
i love the elusiveness of the poem, kenia. it is mystery itself.
xo
erin
Muito legal esse poema!
ReplyDelete:)
Muita emoção e palavras gostosas. Acho que você conseguiu capturar na escrita a herança de um amor cotidianamente doado - e isso ficou perfeito... Lindo, lindo, lindo!
ReplyDeleteYour poetry is so beautiful. I'm enjoying reading through them :)
ReplyDelete