domingo, 19 de junho de 2011

My favorite songs

I've got the blues to make me feel like I'm blue,
I've got the jazz to make me feel like laying down,
I've got the rock to make me roll.

But through all these electric guitars, harmonicas,
drums, keyboards, synths and stuff
I've seen much more:
Brazilian music is in my way,
running inside my veins,
beating my heart
and blowing my mind away.

That's how I feel.
In the end,
it has always been Brazil,
meu Brasil brasileiro,
meu mulato inzoneiro,
nestes meus versos
tão em outra língua,
mas se guardando para algo
maior que um dia há de vir.

Ainda te homenagearei como mereces,
meu bom e velho português.
Portuga sem bigode.
Portuga brasileiro.
Hoje, falarei brasileiro.
E nada mais.

sábado, 4 de junho de 2011

Time Machine

When we will really
start to feel like only one?
Cannot feel like the sand
in the hourglass is the same
sad and twisty desert sand.

As soon as the words came out
my thoughts traveled fast
around the world
and beyond time,
elsewhere I could search
something new and unseen.

And I can feel that
every day I grow up a little
stuck in this same body, with the same size,
that something misses
the old working set.

Every visit in the past
makes me grow in another direction
far behind from the black and grey and white days
to the blue and orange sunset
made me think in every cell on my body:
Will I be able to visit here again, every time my mind wants to run away?

In the end,
just in the end,
this kind of question should mean something
that worths the worrying about it.