|
mafalda santoswrote:
muito linda a espanholita
2 days ago
|
|
gerardo mezawrote:
elzarpadito_22@hotmail.com
5 days ago
|
|
|
FIRATwrote:
My Eyes are in Your Eyes
Do you always look so childlike? Do they always have this fire burning deep inside? There is something in your looks that calms me down; As if I am at the shore of the calmest seas... I am a sailboat now, at your harbor I came from thunderstorms, resting in you. I wish this tranquility, this silence never ends; I wish these matchless moments with you last forever... Never close your eyes, never let your light go away, My day, my light, my silkworm! My last flower alive in my fall garden! I wish my tired heart never sees grief with you; Don't separate your childlike eyese from my eyes, Your pure, honest, secluded eyes ............................................... fırat turkey
June 28
|
|
|
Michele pinowrote:
ciao....mio contatto msn belpene@live.it
June 25
|
|
|
FIRATwrote:
AGE THIRTY-FIVE
The age is thirty-five! Half of the way! We're in the middle of life like a Dante. The fire we felt at the time of our youth When complaining is no use any longer Goes out without caring about tears. Did it snow on my temples or what's this? God this wrinkled face belongs to me? Or those purple bulges beneath my eyes? Why did you become enemy to me Oh the mirrors I knew as friends for years. How the man changes with time! The man at those pictures is not me. Oh those days my desires and excitement! This cheerful man is not me. That I lack of troubles is but a lie. My first love like only a dream Is now strange even as a memory. Our ways separated one by one; With the friends we began our lives My loneliness gradually increases. There was also another colour of sky! I recognized a stone hard so late. Water would drown man fire would burn! Everyday rising is a trouble One understands when he comes to this age. Quince's yellow pomegranate's red autumns! Which I accept a little further each year. Why are the birds still circling around at sky? Why is this funeral? Who died again? How many such gardens did I see topsy-turvy? What can you do death comes to all us. You fall asleep; and you don't wake up. Who knows where how at what age? You will have a single prayer long sovereignty By the grave stone as if it was your throne.
June 24
|
