When a woman's beauty is freed, everything that
surrounds her wakes up.
Here is the awakening of the darkness that they
rented our heart for in him to live, landlords of our souls stay. Already the
night presses and of us he doesn't want to leave. Of the winner smiles already
few remain. The nights before deep, they are now very superficial. The waters
of the rivers wake up of the last sigh of the love.
And the love is as arid as a bridge under a dry
river, just with powder tears. But the green of the bamboos that they surround
you, approaches, they want to be linked, of vegetable love, to love you.
We have to build factories of dreams so that our
mind is light and rise. Hover on the summits of the highest mountains and of
there he doesn't leave. But that flies and in their walls he enrolls: love, I
lost you, I found you, I woke up and I continue to see the million of starving
of hands to the high begging for a love alms and nobody looks them, they just
wander as the wind that passes.
The dream is to fly, always higher, for the love to
conquer, to bless. Oh! How many produced dreams hover in the candles in the
ships spread, of free prows, tearing the sea, to the encounter of loving.
The unconditional to live it is to untie, the love
to free it is being in touching. How many slaves of the love desire of him if
it frees, because their lovers there are a lot meet in the vacancy of the mists
of cloistering, in the medieval castle to await, before the vampire will suck
them. Ah! who frees us of this love vampire?
Seating in the altar of the destiny, prosperously
kneeling, contemplating the splendor, grassed, in a psalm knelt down.
And God sent us a present that fell in our hearts, a
goddess so that we wake up of the torpor, and let us adore her, therefore she
was reincarnated the love. Only the beauty is tender, eternal.
But prepared tree for you be dropped, in the
martyrdom waited, desperate, of the disinherited Earth. Until the sun of your
rejuvenating petals they spoil you. But suddenly an unexpected love hugs you,
it saves you of the misfortune, of the human forest annihilating, of
deforesting.
Close I listen fingering of the delicious lute, just
as your voice that penetrates deep in the hearts and it sets on fire them, the
awake souls, it gives a present. It is suddenly a soft breeze appears, later it
is strong. Because you inaugurated me a forest of hope, in your green voice of
calm. And it remains me always of this delight the memory, of your
perseverance.
In the Earth he also has Olympus, a goddess went
down in her, and the in the lute made poetry, of jasmines he adorned, a
celestial garden planted. And the children in the garden dance endless. And the
memoirs never again faded, forever they were, they sang unique in your Olympus,
Taj Mahal.
Of the immensity of the sea the distant is born to
look. That it seems to blue when meditating. Seagulls to fly the sky of the
sea, to capture you. It seems that you have the lost glance, wounded, in the
Nature, of everything that is you wanted. The sea attracts us, it magnetizes
us, we came from the sea and to him we will return, passionate, arrested in
your jasmine to look.
The truth in your face illuminates the life, it
caresses. A dream finishes another begins in the left stones of the
civilizations extinct, abandoned. And when the love fades other to find, to
change. The love is not defined, like Atlantis, lost.
Stepping, caressing of the sand of the beach of the
sea moves our asleep memory, for millennia, per centuries hibernated, and
suddenly to the bottom it begins to sight Ulysses, the Argonaut, her dog and
stooping Penelope, in the approximated sand, to the wait that Ulysses hugs her
lover, rapt, exalted.
Oh my God! Almost that I fainted before such bulky
beauty that I idealized. Here is beautiful Big-Bang that originated the
universe. So captivating, so refreshing, so touching. Finally, I already know:
your beauty created, it originated the Universe, and in him happy I walk to the
drift. He opens me at least the door of a parallel universe, for in him to
enter and a lot to stay.
And in my Pegasus to fly / to hug you / under the
waves of your sea / and to whisper you that I want to fall in love. The dreams
fly to the speed of the light of the love, but when they take place everything
is beauty, splendor.
I sing a ballad to the love that passes, I lost her
the track, where he walks him, that he crawls in the misfortune.
The dreams are our best friend, without them it is
impossible to accomplish loving. In the altar of the Nature you inspire, you
make the force to vibrate, living that you breathe.
To write the dream of a tropical night, of black
dressed, impartial. Close, some fallen leaves try to recover the original
green, sighing for the mystic goddess in the notebook wavy, excited, in the
wavy hair.
For the summit of the banquet of the love there is
only a road. Many adventurers try until today to discover him, but they get
lost in their mazes. What would of the love be without mazes? And everything
begins and it ends in the love, as in a battle in that he always leaves winner.
I listen the sound of the fallen green leaves in the
sea that approximates you. And I imagine with a lute, I finger him and song the
soft to drag of the leaves as a small boat full of hummingbirds: you are
prisoner of the castle without love. There it is the villainous lord of a
castle, but that terror, gets ready to cage you in a frozen one and wet
dungeon. My love wakes up of the immense torpor and it is reborn her the ardor.
I break out for the drawbridge, my horse seems winged, my sword is been already
to unseam, I ride - more I seem to fly - for the stairways and the villain
doesn't have courage of facing me, and I arrive, I just free you of the average
forts of the infamy with an a stroke of sword. I hug you, we hugged each other
and of eyes in the eyes penetrated in our universes, as an ocean of jasmines,
and we admitted at the chapel of our love: "Oh! my embittered lover, you
are freed, of the captivity untied." "Oh! My lover of unrestricted
courage, in my interior thanked, of body and immoderate soul, it takes me
defined, to you I surrender, clear.
You of the dreams are always present in an absent
heart. My lute is in the heart, of my lover's coloration, always fingered. My
delight is to look, to love. I take oath and I will swear that of that prison
of jasmines will never free you.
The jasmines await your essence, your presence, they
were already like this to the birth.
Your charm magnetize the landscape, he offers her a
green message. Yours to walk in the backwash of the vegetable balance, it wakes
up the nature and her no longer it will feel as before because he will keep
you, your image will whisper, he will sing.
That paradisiacal feeling that frees us of the
suffering, lives in you without lament. Where you move get right you what is
wrong and there are children's laughters on the whole side, because they
deposit in you their hopes. For something to seek the paradise if he is always
present inside of us. So much lost time, lived in the disillusion, in vain. For
something to struggle against the love a lost battle is been? And all of the
roads lead to her shrine. Yes love is God that we sought, but just poor
appearance found him. And when convinced that we conquered him, already he is
at another place, because the love is an instant, itinerant.
The rain falls to caress the thirsty body of loving.
And to the love to fall he makes to flow. To the bottom, the vegetation
observes the silence of your meditation, and the hills in elevation. The rain
wakes up in the love the discovery.
The purity of the inspiration of the beauty is as
the beginning of the fields of Pakistan flooded of jasmines. A sweet smile that
transforms the pleasant to look of a Pakistani goddess. That he lives forever
that heroine beauty. Without a woman's beauty we just serialized mortal poor.
And we existed because her beauty makes the ways of the love. And it is for
that a woman's beauty is above, she lives for besides the Universe of the
love.
The years of a birthday are just long one year. They
come to the surface year after year, in the delirious sequence of the glance
for the mirror and him to seem old, when actually we are we that didn't
believe, didn't accept that image of bewitched witch.
But the eminent writer that gives a present us with
her immortal work will be reminded, celebrated everyday, forever. It is there
no longer they will exist years, but moments - of all of the moments - of
reflection of somebody that is always present in our thought.
Everything is passing, but the beauty is eternal. As
lit candles in a stormy night, that as a light guides us, it illuminates us the
secrets of the beauty. And the waves of the sea crash strongly in the base of
the light, while her light ray if he understands in the marine horizon of the
love, and it unmasks her splendor. There is who calls them love storms. That it
would be of the love without the heat of the rain that hugs us tender,
eternal.
It is will never find him because the destiny of a
love is the destiny of all of the loves.
The overcrowded ship of jasmines travels, it slides
for the flavor of the wavy crests of the sea of the insipidity of the love. The
prow doesn't move forward, it seems fixed, without movement, but the foam and
some leaves still green that lie down in the pilgrimage of the sea air, they
proceed, they pursue in the direction of the statue there to the bottom of the
lost island, that it continues like this endlessly hurt to await that the love
loosens her the bows and the incomes, discover to lingerie. That other
Excalibur penetrates her and of her be reborn the pure, the goddess Guinevere.
Then no longer it will be any island, it will be a jasmine marigold.
A braid of your braids fell, it flowed as a liane of
the millenarian tree that their famous trunks extended - the freedom of flying
of liane in liane - he offered to the traveler that with her shadow rejuvenated
him. And the sun already in her intense one premeditated to travel, first with
silver rays, later he opened up of dense to stripe orange. It is there were of
incandescent face, of looking you searched almost absentee, the margins of the
discord already at the end of the afternoon of the sun that triumphant throw
darts the last shone of the gold tones, the farewell of the wasted loves, in
the bedrooms outraged. Oh! As healthy so intense, ephemeral and gentle the
refuges of the love.
The sea shields the silhouette of the fortress of
yours adored profile, that illuminated for the blessed desire of the rehearsals
of the triangular waves, transparent blue that they frame the painting of the
lake of your fertile one to look. An impressionist picture of painted sun, of
gilded sea and of hair bluish, coiled, in the landscape of anchored Penelope.
It is as a course of anatomy of the butterflies.
They don't fly, they just agitate the fragile wings, such and which as he is
anxious the love. Butterflies are children's dreams that agitate the delicate
arms and they fly. The flight of the butterflies is the child's dream done reality.
Without butterflies the children would not exist, because they are the whitest
invention than the infantile universe already accomplished. To dream, it is the
flight of the butterfly that the child wants to be hit, to hug. To fly, it is a
child's dream taking place. The butterflies don't fly, they dream.
Butterfly, flies, it flies, he walks of flower in
flower and it extracts her the perfume of the love. The butterflies when they
roost in the flowers leave them a message: We landed, caressed your fine
textures with our more intimate tenderness. To travel of flower in flower is to
expand the love.
A laughter is the sublime expression of the human
being's freedom. And when a beauty proclaims her, it is vivifying of the Nature
that the fire.
It is not the love that flees of us - on the
contrary - we are that we fled of him. But there is always a new look to her
wait. First asleep, later I wake up. Oh! A they are unfathomable the mysteries
of the love and of a woman's beauty.
As a seating goddess in the fragility of the
paradise. As in a light to watch the insecurity of the sea of the life. Only a
safe woman's wonderful beauty, lights up, it guides the bad weather of the
life. Oh! As he would want to be shipwreck and to give to the cozy beach of
that replete light of beauty.
To live alone, I believe that it is the extreme
happiness that the human being can reach. After all, even with company we felt
vastly alone.
A deep glance unmasks the world. And a smile
overflows in the green of the vegetation. And the dream move in a hand.
The statue of the love contemplates us of the calm
temple. Storms devastate her continually, but she stays static, majestic,
holds, firm, in the fortress of the love. And the water beats, he is anxious strongly
in the rocks, and later as that miraculously, it caresses her and everything is
tame, collected as in a prayer. To love is to seduce the statue of the
love.
The unrestricted desires hurt our heart, they leave
occasion marks. The love has several doors always open, and in him easy it is
to penetrate. All of the roads lead to a woman's love, but the doors are not
open for who wants. Without love the Universe would move?
The seduction is the art of the magnetization. And
to let to take in that current is the most sublime of the Nature. Paraphrasing
Lavoisier, (1743-1794): In the love anything if it loses, everything arises,
everything is conquered, everything rejuvenates her.
For
Carmen dos Santos
In an of my wanderings for the stranger, in this
case in a dense forest, I came across an extraordinary glade. In her, as that
for magic a wood house that seemed an island in the sea born of the anything
appeared. I approached and I heard with amazement a very strange noise, as
never listened. Suddenly the house began to shake on the whole side, I thought
that he would come undone, but no, in spite of very old the foundations were
potent, in good shape. And a deep voice, as that exit of the bowels of the
earth screamed: "FREES ME! " It is almost to shake got to answer: To
"free you how? " And the voice now almost without forces,
discouraged, he begs me: He "says the word more used by the human beings!
" I meditated during some hours and anything. Gee! But which is the word
more used by the human beings? Petroleum? Gold? To kill? War? To steal?
Corruption? And the house seemed to read my thoughts because as he thought
about a word she was reduced, it disappeared. The house decreased so that
little it lacked her to arrive to a grain of sand. It is suddenly a word left
me instinctively of the mouth. And I screamed her powerful like her it
deserves: LOVE!!! AND the house in an apex returned to the normal, the whole
structure opened up of pair in equal. And a transformation sudden, divine
happened: They saw each other several animals that lived together, I believe
that they dated if. The Glade disappeared. It was heard whistling of the wind,
rain clouds announced her. The rain tumbled with force and her hymn the forest
sang. After having freed, the miracle of the power of the love appeared with
all her splendor. To arrest the love is handcuff-millstones the heart. It is
crime of it harms Nature.
Does everything move and didn't we feel him/it,
because we faked that we existed? Anesthetized by the factory of the love,
invented, we walked without sense, to the tons to the universal medical clinic,
and after a fast consultation, because the doctor has many, many patient - this
humanity, civilization, only has patient, resigned patients to live awaiting
the death - there the prescription comes: Who more it suffers with everything
that is my heart
The
blood pressure arises, he shows
The
doctor tranquilized me, for the tranquilizers
he
sent me, of her learned one to know, as before
Take
them with some water
As
a very clear, transparent day, when clearing up
of
lying down
A
small flask, containing chemical reactions
For
the night to be very dark
One
a day, or will one be per night?
So
that it is easy to support the lapses
of
sliding of everyday
Difficult
it is to walk with the feet in the ground
You are not a woman, you are a monument to the
woman.
I saw you to run for the waves of the sea and in
them to fly. Then you went to the abyss in a dive without return - you wanted
like this him, I thought - I ran as a lunatic pursuing you, but it was already
too late. I got to see you in the bottom. You were so happy, I asked you:
Carmen, comes for the surface! " No, here in such deep world I feel so
happy that I don't want more the to return that surface." Carmen, you
don't leave!!! it is never again saw you. It is for that began a song, a new
religion that nails the marine love to leave of that moment the sea.
A woman smile is the most tempting thing of the
Creation.
Image: www.not1.xpg.com.br
