Mundo imaginario...Imaginary world...
E o Dr. Sig convidou me para tomar um banho de mente.
Eu o analizava como que ele fosse um louco.
Banho de mente.
Oh doido...
Sentei me sobre a pedra e pensei no que falou a menina dos mergulhos no mar.
Ela alegre com as gotas de chuva
com os pingos das aguas
com o pingo das chuvas
com o cheiro da terra
com a forca do pingo
que quando comeca a pingar
perfura as pedras
entranha a terra
tortura o poeta
o estudante
o inocente decente
que quiz revoltar.
O pingo constante na testa
te faz convesar coisas nao feitas
mas oras pois
eh apenas um pingo.
Um pingo
contado como um voto
a alguem que eu convido a roubar
ah, deixe disso,
prefiro o mundo imaginario....
Pingos, sao capazes de fazer
um sol amarelo
dois tracos, barco
lua, espaco solar...
Pingos sao beijos
na noite enluarada de mel
sao gotas de suor entre os amantes
no calor, na beira do mar....
Um deles constitui a vida
e como um unico atomo de areia
um pingo pode ser uma esperanca
pois fomos tambem um dia
um pingo de gente.....
(E eu pergunto ao Dr. Sig onde eh que erramos e porque nao pensamos mais em voz alta, porque nao protegemos mais nossos castelos de areia, nossos sonhos de valsa, nossas dancas na chuva..................................................................................................................).
E ele fecha a porta e disse que continuaremos depois...
And Dr. Sig invited me to take a brain bath.
I started analysing him, and thinking that he was crazy.
Brain bath...
He was crazy....
And I sat over the stone and thought about what the diver lady in love with the sea told me.
She was happy with the rain drops,
with the dirty smell
with the water drips
with her garden
and how she was indeed
happy with the single drop.
The incalculable strength of the drop
when it starts to drip
it holes out stones
it rapes the earth
it tortures the poet
the inocent and decent
student
that chose to rebel
against "the system"..
And I thought of the constant
drops in the forehead
that makes you confess
crimes not by you committed ...
Drop by drop, by drop by drop.
A drop
counted as a vote
as if I'm inviting someone to rob me
(I feel here sorry for my governor)
someone dropped his name...
Well, that's why I prefer the imaginary world...
Drops, with them I'm able to make
a yellow sun,
two traces, a boat
moons, solar spaces...
Drops are like kisses
in the honey colored moon light
they are drips of sweat between lovers
at the sea shore....
Powerful enough to constitute life
as unique as sand atom alone at sea
a single drop can represent hope
as we were one day
just a simple tiny drop
"Little drop of people"....
(And I asked Dr. Sig where did we make a mistake, why we do not protect our sand castles, why we do not sing and dance our waltz in the rain?
And then he closes the door behind me and tells me that we'll finish it later, maybe next time).....
And my conception of him has yet to change....
Mundo imaginario...Imaginary world...
E o Dr. Sig convidou me para tomar um banho de mente.
Eu o analizava como que ele fosse um louco.
Banho de mente.
Oh doido...
Sentei me sobre a pedra e pensei no que falou a menina dos mergulhos no mar.
Ela alegre com as gotas de chuva
com os pingos das aguas
com o pingo das chuvas
com o cheiro da terra
com a forca do pingo
que quando comeca a pingar
perfura as pedras
entranha a terra
tortura o poeta
o estudante
o inocente decente
que quiz revoltar.
O pingo constante na testa
te faz convesar coisas nao feitas
mas oras pois
eh apenas um pingo.
Um pingo
contado como um voto
a alguem que eu convido a roubar
ah, deixe disso,
prefiro o mundo imaginario....
Pingos, sao capazes de fazer
um sol amarelo
dois tracos, barco
lua, espaco solar...
Pingos sao beijos
na noite enluarada de mel
sao gotas de suor entre os amantes
no calor, na beira do mar....
Um deles constitui a vida
e como um unico atomo de areia
um pingo pode ser uma esperanca
pois fomos tambem um dia
um pingo de gente.....
(E eu pergunto ao Dr. Sig onde eh que erramos e porque nao pensamos mais em voz alta, porque nao protegemos mais nossos castelos de areia, nossos sonhos de valsa, nossas dancas na chuva..................................................................................................................).
E ele fecha a porta e disse que continuaremos depois...
And Dr. Sig invited me to take a brain bath.
I started analysing him, and thinking that he was crazy.
Brain bath...
He was crazy....
And I sat over the stone and thought about what the diver lady in love with the sea told me.
She was happy with the rain drops,
with the dirty smell
with the water drips
with her garden
and how she was indeed
happy with the single drop.
The incalculable strength of the drop
when it starts to drip
it holes out stones
it rapes the earth
it tortures the poet
the inocent and decent
student
that chose to rebel
against "the system"..
And I thought of the constant
drops in the forehead
that makes you confess
crimes not by you committed ...
Drop by drop, by drop by drop.
A drop
counted as a vote
as if I'm inviting someone to rob me
(I feel here sorry for my governor)
someone dropped his name...
Well, that's why I prefer the imaginary world...
Drops, with them I'm able to make
a yellow sun,
two traces, a boat
moons, solar spaces...
Drops are like kisses
in the honey colored moon light
they are drips of sweat between lovers
at the sea shore....
Powerful enough to constitute life
as unique as sand atom alone at sea
a single drop can represent hope
as we were one day
just a simple tiny drop
"Little drop of people"....
(And I asked Dr. Sig where did we make a mistake, why we do not protect our sand castles, why we do not sing and dance our waltz in the rain?
And then he closes the door behind me and tells me that we'll finish it later, maybe next time).....
And my conception of him has yet to change....