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What love is

The happy or the bored
may ask what love is -
but it doesn't have descriptiveness.
Its qualities are wordless.
 
You feel it secretly and slowly.
It's there and you don't realise
it's living in your heart.
 
A flower may be plucked,
a pearl or cloth of gold
be snatched and fought over.
The caged bird sings its heart out
and if you freed it, it would also sing
far from you and everyone.
 
Love is not flower
nor pearl
nor caged bird
but a formless dweller in the heart.
 
That's what love is:
less than happiness.
 

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Xique-Xique

I saw the blind reading the chord of the guitar
Blind against blind in the backwoods duel
I saw the blind tying a reef knot1 with a snake
I saw a blind man trapped in the sight cage
Black bird flying far away
And the blind goat2 seeing in the dark
 
I saw the moon on the back of a comet
I saw the Zabumba3 and the Fole 4 'zabumbeing' 5
I saw the lightning when the whole sky flashes
And the Triangle 6 swallowing sparks
I saw the white galaxy inside the dark galaxy
I saw day and night meet
 
I saw the father, I saw the mother, I saw the daughter
I saw the heifer that is the daughter of the heifer7
I saw the replica of the replica of the Bible
In the invention of a science singer
I saw the lamb of god in an empty egg
I got cold and asked you to warm me
 
I saw the blind reading the chord of the guitar
Blind against blind in the backwoods duel
I saw the blind tying a reef knot with a snake
I saw a blind man trapped in the sight cage
White wing, white wing, white wing 8
And the blind goat seeing in the dark
 
I saw the moon on the back of a comet
I saw the Zabumba and the Fole 'zabumbeing'
I saw the lightning when the whole sky flashes
And the Triangle swallowing sparks
I saw the white galaxy inside the dark galaxy
I saw day and night meet
 
I saw the father, I saw the mother, I saw the daughter
I saw the heifer that is the daughter of the heifer
I saw the replica of the replica of the Bible
In the invention of a science singer
I saw the lamb of god in an empty egg
I got cold and asked you to warm me
 
  • 1. In portuguese the expression is literally 'blind knot' so he plays with a blind person tying a 'blind knot'
  • 2. Cabra-cega is the portuguese name for Blind man's buff. Goats are also a popular choice of animal to raise in the northeast.
  • 3. musical instrument
  • 4. also an instrument
  • 5. I had to make this up, because he makes up a verb with Zabumba
  • 6. Another instrument, widely used in the Forró/Baião/ genre
  • 7. very difficult to translate the meaning of adding the accent ' to the letter 'a' here, it changes its sound, and makes it stronger
  • 8. 'Asa Branca' is bird that migrates when the periodic droughts are too harsh in the Northeast. It's also the title of a popular Baião song by Luiz Gonzaga
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Hiking Happily

I'm so happy singing like this
Happy while hiking
There is no better delight
To sing and to hike
 
Valderí, valderí
valderá, valderá
Valderí, valderí
valderá ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
valderá, come sing with me
 
Lerirí, lerirí
lerirí, lerirí
Leriririririririrá
(2x)
 
With a joyful song I will
Greet anyone I pass*
The birds also will sing
Greeting the rising sun
 
Valderí, valderí
valderá, valderá
Valderí, valderí
valderá ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
valderá, come sing with me
 
Lerirí, lerirí
lerirí, lerirí
Leriririririririrá
(2x)
 
I'm really happy while hiking
Until the end is come
I will be happy singing free
With you at my side
 
Valderí, valderí
valderá, valderá
Valderí, valderí
valderá ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
valderá, come sing with me
 
Lerirí, lerirí
lerirí, lerirí
Leriririririririrá
(2x)
 
Come sing with me
 

Ogdr36 – And there are poets that are artists

And there are poets that are artists
And work upon their verses
Just like how a carpenter works upon tables! . . .
 
How sad it is to not know how to blossom!
To have to put verse upon verse, like who constructs a wall
And to see if it is good, and to topple it if it isn't! . . .
When the only artistic house is the entire Earth
That varies and is always good and is always the same.
 
I think about this, not like who thinks, but like who breathes.
And I look at the flowers and smile . . .
I don't know if they understand me
Or even if I understand them as they are,
But I know that the truth is within them and in me
And in our common divinity
Of letting each other go and live throughout the Earth
And to lead on lap through the content Seasons
And to allow the wind to sing so that we may fall asleep
And not have dreams inside of our sleep.
 

Stephen

When will we have walked our eyes to heaven
Only to trip on reality one day
Forgetting the earth under our feet
For a cloud that passed
 
When will we be afraid of storms
Of these burning sarcophagi
Fearing the shadow when evening comes
Living an illusion
 
Who knows
But who can know
How many summers from Hell
We have left to live before the Exodus
We’ve plundered, emptied the seas
And trafficked the codes
 
We ignored the alarm
The foretold signs
We lost our soul
The only thing left is to abandon all
 
What will be left?
A life of stone
After so many lives
Happy on earth
Just as many broken lives
And we must go away
 
Deadly winds
Burning our hemispheres
It’s high time for us to get fresh air
To emigrate to Jupiter
To leave like the swallows
 
They all became crazy
This is what they’ll say of us
They’ll write on our stelae
“Your home was beautiful.”
 
And we rolled
To the bottom of the slope
Nothing to brake
Our descent
 
We’re going to lose
Like the dragonflies
We must choose
The sky or the earth
 
What will be left?
A life of stone
After so many lives
Happy on earth
Just as many broken lives
And we must go away
 
The scale balances
We must seize it
Space extends its cords
Space is pulling us in
 
To go away
Yes, we must go away