25.8.12

Las Simples Cosas


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Uno se despide insensiblemente de pequenas cosas
Lo mismo que en un arbol que en tiempo de otoño
muere por sus hojas
Al fin tristeza es la muerte lenta de las simples cosas
Esas cosas simples que te van doliendo en el corazon


Uno vuelve siempre a los viejos sitios
en que amo la vida
y entonces comprende como estan de
ausentes las cosas queridas

Por eso muchacho no partas ahora
soñando el regreso, que el amor es simple
y las cosas simples las debora el tiempo
demorate aqui, en la luz mayor
de este medio dia, donde encontraras
con el pan al sol, la mesa tendida

Letra de Chavela Vargas, cantada por Buika

Penitent

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Once I stood alone so proud
Held myself above the crowd
Now i am low on the ground.

From here i look around to see
What avenues belong to me
I can't tell what ive found.

Now what would You have me do
I ask you please?
I wait to hear.

The mother, and the matador,
The mystic, all were here before,
Like me, to stare You down.

You appear without a face,
Disappear, but leave your trace,
I feel your unseen frown.

Now what would you have me do
I ask you please?
I wait to hear
Your voice, the word, you say
I wait to see your sign
Would I obey?

I look for you in heathered moor,
The desert, and the ocean floor
How low does one heart go.

Looking for your fingerprints
I find them in coincidence,
And make my faith to grow.

Forgive me all my blindnesses
My weakness and unkindnesses
As yet unbending still.

Struggling so hard to see
My fist against eternity
And will you break my will?

Suzanne Vega, álbum Songs in Red and Gray (2001).

9.8.12


Todo começo é involuntário.
Deus é o agente.
O heroe a si assiste, vário
E inconsciente.

À espada em tuas mãos achada
Teu olhar desce.
"Que farei eu com esta espada?"

Ergueste-a, e fez-se.



Fernando Pessoa, "O Conde D. Henrique", em Mensagem.