sábado, 25 de septiembre, 2010 16:01:17 [paginantes] BAUDELAIRE
BAUDELAIRE Monday, October 4, 2010
Camila Rodrigues%trans
You escaped the lines as heavy bleeding, but anyone
being giddy in each book,
in each letter, as in your drinking life damn poet.
you for me, a bane in the madness of my horrible dreams,
that even so, enjoy them both,
and sometimes dried in the silly imitation of the poet unscathed
setbacks, insolent, cynical and vicious.
Pity me, knowing that one day I will die and you will not be able
see those flowers malignant
perpetual mirror which I carry in my wake, and there
pregnant in my grave, I'll be reading.,
and maybe they can eat worms,
but your tiny point and infinite, remains.
not where I go, after this strange life,
that, I'm terrified, because I love life,
and your left hand, which gun wielding bloody
a long sigh of damn song. Do not get me
Baudelaire die, I die for you, maybe
to go back infinitely immortal brain,
and not mourn anymore. Here
the witching night, the criminal friend
wolf comes to pass, as an accomplice, the sky, slowly closes
immense room, turning into vermin
restless man.
Oh! nice night, sought by those whose arms,
without cheating, can say the day has been laborious.
The night is the one who soothes the soul,
consumed by unremitting pain,
the stubborn scholar whose face is blurred,
and the worker returns to his bed exhausted.
The perverse demons, while in that atmosphere,
awkward stretches, as businessmen,
knocking on your flight
eaves and shutters,
through lights that sways in the wind. Suddenly
sidewalks, opens vanal love, and raising their gates
such huge anthill, effortlessly styling
a hidden way, like the enemy
preparing an assault.
Writhe within the city of mud, which larva
man to steal his food,
are heard here and there the kitchen whistling, shouting
theater ... go orchestral chord.
Recógete my soul, in such a serious moment,
and remains deaf to such an immense crowd,
is the time in which all patients are aggravated
the night clinging to the throat,
end their fate, and common sink in the abyss,
The hospital is full of sighs,
more than one, is not going to find ever
the thick soup by the fire,
at night, near the loved one. Furthermore
most have ever known,
the warmth of home, or lived at all. July
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