Sim,
eu sinto falta
das perguntas no meio da noite
e dos beijos soprados
direto para o meu coração
enterrado à sombra
da árvore favorita
no nosso jardim imaginado.
Yes,
I've been missing you
asking questions into the night
and blowing kisses that come
right into my heart
buried under the favorite tree
in our imagined garden.
I think all of us have such a tree ;-) Those roots will grow strong, and the tree will blossom I hope.
ReplyDeletePoucas palavras, grande sentido!
ReplyDelete________
"Our imagined garden."
ReplyDeleteIs that something like Eden?
You have the ability to turn reality into something more magical at the slightest twist of the hand.
ReplyDeleteQue doce!!! Quanto tempo não caminhava por entre tuas belas poesias!!!
ReplyDeleteBeijos da lua!
Maya Quaresma
i agree with andreas, it must be eden. but which tree is the favorite, life or knowledge?
ReplyDeletei wonder how you go about writing in two languages. which comes first? do you write one and then translate? do the two place different demands on you, do the languages want different things, do they quarrel with each other?
James!
DeleteSorry it took me so long to answer your question, but here I am. :)
These days I often start writing in English. And it feels like having a totally different voice, as if it wasn't me writing. Then I have to translate to Portuguese. Sometimes it just doesn't work and I have to write a whole new version. But when it really doesn't sound good enough in my language, I leave it at "The sky clears", which is my expression in English only. Actually, I haven't started anything in Portuguese for a long time now. I think I've been speaking to an imaginary interlocutor who will not understand me in Portuguese. :)
Poetry has always demanded me to be good and simple. My command of English is simplistic, I don't know much of awesome vocabulary and I actually never believed it to be the best way to write poetry if you want it to go everywhere. I myself don't like words I can't feel. Poetry to me is about feeling, and if words don't speak to my heart, then I can't love them, they won't touch me.
Thanks for stopping by and taking interest in my writing. <3
very beautiful words!
ReplyDeleteNascerão outras plantas no jardim
ReplyDeletethe poem blew outward and then wound inward, just as love goes.
ReplyDeletexo
erin
boa noite
ReplyDeleteEu convido você para visitar Diretório Blogspot
Eu sou um membro do Diretório do Blogspot e acho que esta comunidade também poderia interessá-lo.
Teremos o prazer em recebê-
Para descobrir, clique no link abaixo: http://world-directory-sweetmelody.blogspot.com/
muito cordialmente
Chris