As "Cartas Ridículas"

It’s overcast, grizzly cold and awfully grey!
Yet, It’s nothing else but another day...
Like all the other days where I stiff my mind,
Looking for something real to find.
For everything I see is strenuous and worthless!
Amid the cold, the dark and sad emptiness
I see no joy, fun, enthusiasm or clarity,
But rather notorious signs of tireness and vanity.
I see, yet, a frame of awfull routine and scaring signs
Of fear, despair and anger between the lines
That shape my route which is getting narrow and short,
With plenty of bends, slippering grounds and far from the port
That once I dreamed of, where I could tie my ship
After my already long, hard and tiring trip...

But I see a shining star inside my ageing soul.
It twinkles and cries and leaves an undeniable call,
That I feel impelled to take as my trustful guide,
Along my still possible and feasible ride.
For I see its leading appeal and protecting wisdom
Trying to show me the way, the path of love, the door to my freedom.
She’s like a moving star that doesn’t move... but rather stands still
In a deep dark sky full of very many stars that fill
The universe with erratic feelings, burning passions and lies.
There she is. Small, brilliant, gold and blue. She looks at me and cries...
Waking my dormant hopes and shaking my mind,
Bringing that warm breeze of summer and joy of all kind!
She tells me a name for me to place on a person of a dream come true.
And that name,my love, is of a special woman like you




Cascais, Novembro de 2003

Je, moi même...ou de como às vezes, sem querer, começo a limpar tralha do computador e dou comigo a pensar em como depois do meio dia começa a tarde! E vem aí o fim de semana. Para quê falar nas trapalhadas do Santana e não ser "ridículo" de vez em quando?