ouvindo: Genesis - Mama
frase do dia: "Oh, sleep! 'Tis a gentle thing, beloved from pole to pole!" - Samuel Taylor Coleridge
For the one whose sleep is just a matter for dreaming.
Gabrielle in Dreams
Gabrielle, thou who be 'neath slumber fetters
Bethinkst the kiss thou left on my chest?
Thy hand in mine when world's shadow covered it -
Was it hurted by the thorns of a unreceived flower?
Canst thou feel the waitness lurked ere everything,
'Til Death ask us for names we don't have?
My darkest Gabrielle, treat me from my life awaking! -
Or shall I seek in wine my own sleep?
We casted up dark words on heart's mirror
And when it broke, we didn't know when would be our end.
Sleepst thou the rest destined to the tired ones
Or livest on and on the dead's nightmare?
I just can foresee we die at any moment.
Distant Gabrielle, sorrow unveils us the late wisdom of failure.
Gathering storms throughout thy breast,
This shining watercolor'd drop also invites me to dream.
In the Death Country mayhaps we will find God -
However can in Heaven we find a friend?
I feel these emptiness with my knife.
Gabrielle, thou wrote me a dream and I tried to grasp thy tears.
If our hearts will be still knocking, even underground,
Wherefore crying for a world bereft of tears?
Wherefore grant graves for the lillies?
We shall meet again at the end of the world
And we will lament for not in recognizing ourselves.
To thy dream I belong no more.
Thou were near when my life was fast...
My woebegone Gabrielle... My woe be gone, Gabrielle...
O enigma da razão
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