Any information about me? I am a bit of an extrovert introvert. Head in the clouds, but feet on the ground. I'm a bit of everything, but that's what you'll discover along the way. Spring is my favorite season, I like pastel colors even though most of my clothes are black. I like to make jokes, jokes about myself, ha.
What sayest thou, and feignest yet to deny the importance of these kingdoms for which I scarcely begin to march? !
In the window is hidden a sandalwood tree, with its high resplendent sound, the saint pale that lengthens the old book that prodigates the magnificent brilliance of the evening. Effleurez le vitrail de cet ostensoir the winged harp of an angel created on the flight of the evening for the beauty of his phalange. And leave the sandalwood and the book, and the caress passes the finger on the instrumental plumage the bellhop of silence
Secret, empty bell, dead birds, in the house where everything falls asleep, at nine o'clock, the earth stands still, it seems as if someone is sighing, the trees seem to smile, the water trembles at the tip of each leaf, a cloud runs through the night, a man sings in front of the door, the window opens silently.
Oh, I admire much, by faith, that an ear be given to hate when it gazouille thealouette. !
Oh, that horrible bloody nightmare haunts me restless, furious, mad, desperate; Everywhere I go my fucking path and the same bites me like wolves in a pack! Oh, I suffer so much, I suffer so terribly that the first moan that the first man exhaled It's almost sweet unlike my nameless pain! And your sorrows, my dear, will be like a divine herd of swallows, crossing the river horizon of a golden day and September.
His pupils of statue regard fixation et sa voix douce et grave rappelle l'inflexion des voix bien-aimées déjà silencieuses à jamais. He is the voice of the beloved, and he is the voice of the beloved..
If someone knocks on your door and you are sad, Open, what is love, my friend.
Listen to the ship, woman, close your ears to my skin like flowers, and listen to the ship, the ship, sail in my interior seas..
Donne-moi ta main, by Gabriela Mistral Donne-moi ta main and we will dance Like a single flower we shall be, like a flower, and nothing more. We sing the same couplet at the same time as your dancers. Like a point we wave, like a point, and nothing else. Your name is Rosa and I am Hope, but you forget your name because we'll be a dance on the hill and nothing else. .
Then fill me with words or let me live in the serenity of the dark night.
But it is in vain to fight, for there is no name capable of nursing him; and just, oh, magnificent! I could sing to you alone..
The sun can always go down, the sea can dry up in an instant, the axis of the earth could break. Like a weak glass. Tout is coming! Couvrez-moi de votre crêpe funèbre, mais ça ne peut jamais sortir en moi. The flame of your love is not going to go out of me.
You have me and I am yours. so close to each other Like meat on bones. so close to each other and often so far! . You sometimes tell me that you find me closed, like a hard stone, as if wrapped in secrets, impassive, distant. And you would like yours the key to the mystery. If no one has it. There is no key. not me, I don't even have it myself !
I want to cry because I love you too much I want to die because you gave me life Oh, mon amour, est-ce que je n'aurai jamais la paix? It will be that tout ce qui est en moi Ça veut juste dire bonjour. And I don 't even know what 'll happen to me. Everything tells me that love will be my end. What despair l'amour brings, I didn't know what l'amour was Now I know because je ne suis pas content.
I don't want to die without understanding your mouth. I don't want to die the perplexed soul, to know differently, lost on other plagues. I don't want to die with this inconsolation across the infinite arc of this sad dome where your dreams live under the sun of noon. I don't want to die without having given you the golden spheres of my body, the skin that covers me, the trembling that invades me. I don't want to die without your love..
L'amour est ce silence timid près de toi, sans que tu le saches, Et souviens-toi de ta voix quand tu pars et feel the warmth of your welcome. L'amour is this shy silence near you, without you knowing it, And remembers-toi de ta voix when you leave and feel the warmth of your welcome. To love is to wait for you as if you were part of the couch of the sun, neither before nor after, for we are alone among games and stories on dry land..
I'm going to kiss you goodbye, Ma Chloé. C'est peut-être notre tour On l'épaule la main qui appelle Au bateau qui ne vient que à voir; Et ça dans le même paquet Attach what nous étions mutuellement And the extraterrestrial universal sum of life.
♪ My earth, my earth, it's you ♪
Mon peuple, mon peuple, this is you.
Banishment and death for me they are where you are not And my life? Tell me, my life, what is it, if not you?
When the divine storm is still in my time, I'll lie down, playing with your tofu meches, on your wedding day, my front is sleeping,.
Ni souvenirs ni présages: I'm just going to sing. I'm not going to say anything. Neither hands nor lips: only two bodies at a distance, separés. Neither light nor darkness, nor eyes nor gaze: vision, the vision of the soul..
Sometimes I have the impression of being angry when I say, "I love you madly". Sometimes I feel like I'm crying: I love him so much! Sometimes I want to be a child crying. Sometimes I feel like I'm dead, under the wet soil of my sucks, a flower pousse for me, break my chest a flower and say:.
For your green eyes I miss you, siren of those whom Ulysses, sagace, loved and feared. For your green eyes, I miss it. For your green eyes in what, fleeting, shining habitually, sometimes, melancholy; for your green eyes if full of peace, mystérieux comme mon espoir; for your green eyes, effective spell, je me sauverais
If you love me, love me all over the place. If you love me, love me black and white, and gray, green and blond, and brown. I love me day, I love me night. And early morning at the open window! - I'm not. If you love me, you must not cut me off. Or you don't love me.
A mystery burns in your eyes, virgin dodge and companion. I don't know if fire is hatred or inexhaustible love of your black aliaba. You will go with me as long as I cast a shadow on my body and left my sandal sand. -Are you thirsty or water on my way?- Tell me, elusive virgin and companion.
tactics and strategy, by Mario Benedetti My tactic is to watch you learn how you are love you as you are my tactic is to talk to you and listen to you build an indestructible bridge with words my tactic is to stay in your memory I do not know how I do not know under what pretext but stay in you my tactic is to be frank and know that you are frank and that we do not sell no drills so that between the two there are no curtains or abysses my strategy is rather deeper and simpler My strategy is that any given day I do not know how I do not know under what pretext you finally need me
I want to fill my glass.
Donne-moi ta main, by Gabriela Mistral Donne-moi ta main and we will dance Like a single flower we shall be, like a flower, and nothing more. We sing the same couplet at the same time as your dancers. Like a point we wave, like a point, and nothing else. Your name is Rosa and I am Hope, but you forget your name because we'll be a dance on the hill and nothing else. .
I told you for the clouds I told you for the sea tree For the eyes that become face or landscape And the sleep that rends the sky of its colour Pour toute la nuit bue Pour la grille des routes Pour la fenêtre ouverte pour un front découvert I told you for your thoughts for your words ♪ All you need is a little faith ♪
The night comes slow and grey a virus in the air the look seeks to feel its invasion a fumée three houses a trait de neige comment voir the penetration of the image are reflux when les mots la jettent dehors mais rien et rien et rien a rond de lumière quelques formes à peine vues dans la vitesse langue Balled by the wind of time, the noir is already soaked in all the space, each chosen thus reduced to its smoke.
First snow early this morning. Ochre, green Take refuge under the trees. Second, around noon. Only pine needles remain, which also fall harder sometimes than snow. Then, towards evening, the scourge of light comes to a standstill. Shadows and dreams have the same weight. A little wind Writes with the tip of the foot a word out of the world.
What's to swing without end, rosier, par longue pluie, avec ta double rose Like two mourning geese they remain sans vol. I see them from my heart, for my eyes are closed. My love above the flowers left no wind and cloud.
Have a toast of old tiles a little before noon. Place all to the side a lily already great moved by the wind. Put over them a blue sky, washed by white clouds. Let them do it. Look at them..
I see almost nothing more than the light, the far-off birds' cries are the knots, the mountain lightning at the foot of the day.
Name if you can your shadow, your fear and show him the turn of his head, the circumference of your world and if you can pronounce it, the word of catastrophes, if you dare to break this silence woven with silent laughter, — if you dare without accomplices to break the ball, tear the frame, all alone, all alone, and plant there your eyes and come blind towards the night, Come to your death that does not see you, alone if you dare to break the night paved with dead sloes, without accomplices if you dare alone to come naked to the mother of the dead – in the heart of her heart your apple rests – listen to her call you: my child, listen to her call you by name.
What sayest thou, and feignest yet to deny the importance of these kingdoms for which I scarcely begin to march? !
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