Untitled Book

So, last year, something sad happened to me: my best friend died of Leukemia.
Since I am an English undergraduate student with an emphasis on Editing, I decided then for my graduation project to collect some of my conversations with him and editing into a book. The idea of doing it, not only is it painful, came from the purpose of doing something that would actually mean something to me and that it would be a way of always remembering him.
One time, he tried committing suicide and after he came back from the hospital we talked about it and I asked him how he could do something to me like that and not let me at least say goodbye to him. He told me I would eventually find out about the incident, in case he had been, let's say, "successful" with it. Then I asked him if that was it, if I would never seen him again in case he actually had died, and then he told me:

"ah não amado... para sempre é longe demais;
sempre tem uma hora que a gente se encontra
(...)
lembra de mim que eu vou estar sempre pensando em você!"

Which would be translated to:

"oh no my dear... forever is far too much;
there is always a time when we will meet
(...)
remember me for I will always be thinking of you!"

It's conversations like these that makes this project even harder to complete, but still, even more valuable!

Wünsch

Es ist mir kalt

Ein kalter Tag

Ein kaltes Wetter

Eine kalte Liebe

Was soll ich jetzt machen?

Soll ich warten auf eine Liebe,

die mir versprochen wurde?

Oder soll ich langsam zur Vergessenheit gehen?

Ich gehe auf der Straße hinab

Ich denke an ihn

Ich kann nicht verstehen den Grund

Warum müsste er gehen?

Könnte ich ihm nicht helfen?

Könnte ich deine Hände nicht halten?

Könnte ich nicht ihn sagen,

wie groß meine Liebe für ihn war?

Ich verstehe nicht den Grund!

Ich habe Angst davon,

ich ihn vergessen wird.

Ich soll das nicht machen! Ich muss das nicht machen!

„Vergiss mich nicht“ sagte er

Und ihn zu vergessen darf ich nicht

Soll ich nicht

Darf ich nicht!

Das Herzleiden

Sometimes, when we ask someone a question

 – as simple it may sound –

 silence is simply another way of saying no.

Sometimes, when all we want to listen to

is a simple “wart auf mich bitte”,

we get an empty stare instead

I have raised my voice,

you, on the other hand,

have lowered yours

May time heal these wounds –

es muss schnell vorbei gehen –

for I want to be soon free from

meine Sucht nach dir.

Tick-Tack-Toe

And time won’t pass

I can hear it –

slowly,

the tick-tack-toe

Counting every second

minute and hour

just to be with you

And time wouldn’t fly

Mocking me

Scorning me

For all that I didn’t do –

slowly,

would the tick-tack-toe go

And I could cry out your name

In vain

And I would gaze into the moon

O so bright and full

And I would feel it too –

slowly,

like that same tick-tack-toe

Growing

Begging

Pleading to come out

A single tear came around –

slowly,

running,

like that tick-tack-toe.

Learn a lesson

Life is fragile –

a heart can break –

cherish each moment,

shed every single tear.

Life is short –

live it well –

with your head high

and with a smile

Don’t regret

what went wrong –

I know it’s hard.

Life is fragile –

a heart can break.

I sure know it,

because mine is broken.

I first wrote this poem when I was living in Fountain Hills, Arizona. I was getting my bags - five of them, I might add - to go back to Brazil, when I realized how I was feeling about leaving everything and everyone behind. Of course, while writing it I had a specific person in mind, who, should I say, "helped" me and "pushed" me into writing a bunch of other poems regarding what I felt and our pseudo-relationship.

This poem was first written on a piece of paper from my notepad from the Pub I used to work for, on the 3rd of May.

Banshee

From the black hole it comes

Fast and swift – dangerous and quick

From the black hole it roars

Its angry cry of angrily despair

From the black hole it rides

Around the same place it goes

Taking us through imagination and desire

From the black hole it comes

Its light brings us hope as

It also brings us death and

sorrow – relief for the ones who

suffered among us – as a whole

From the black hole it comes

Once again, as yesterday, as now

From the black hole it comes

Singing its sad and angry cry

Nova Iorque, 13 de agosto de 2011

Tula

This World pulls all of us
around - But this World won't tie
this little bird to the ground

Cidade do Panamá, 17 de julho, 2011

Um poema bem simples e pequeno para dedicado à minha amiga Maíria Tula Barbosa!

E se?

E se eu lhe disser que te amo?

Você diria o mesmo?

E se eu lhe disser que sinto a sua falta?

Você sente a minha também?

E se eu disser que eu penso sempre em você?

Será que você pensa em mim também?

E se eu disser que quero você?

Você largaria tudo e viria correndo para mim?

E se eu disser que 6 meses longe de você é tortura?

Você esperará por mim?

Pois eu sei que,

meu coração sempre esperará por você!

Belo Horizonte, 26 de agosto, 2011


Um poema pequeno e simples. Nascido de uma noite mal dormida; pensando em uma pessoa em especial. Uma simples pergunta, mas que faz toda a diferença! E se? Nos perguntamos sempre isso e nunca estamos contentes com a resposta ou a fato de nunca soubermos o que realmente seria se algo tivesse acontecido diferente.

Neste caso, esta pergunta vem questionar a possibilidade de eu ter a coragem o suficiente para dizer tudo o que eu queria àquela pessoa especial.

April

April, April

Macht was Du willst

Vor dem Anfang der Frühlings

Hast du was mein war gestohlen

April, April

Macht was Du willst

Was soll ich jetzt ohne ihn machen,

kann ich mir nicht vorstellen

April, April

Macht was Du willst

Keine Lüge sie war – lügst du nicht

Denn du weiß dass ich ihn wirklich liebte

Keine Lüge hast du mir erzählt

Deshalb weinte ich bis heute

April, April

Macht was Du willst

Jetzt sollte ich nur mir vorstellen

ob es ihm gut geht,

ob er gesund ist,

ob er endlich glücklich ist

April, April

Macht was Du willst

Er war nicht deiner erste –

und ich weiß dass er nicht

der letzte würde

April, April

Macht was Du willst

Am Anfang der Lebens hat

eine Mutter ein Baby bekommen

Am Anfang der Lebens ist

es dünn, krank – – – tot

April, April

Macht was Du willst

Ein Unfall und du zieh

deine scharfe Kralle für

ein andere Unfallopfer ein!

April, April

Macht was Du willst

Warum hast du ein Kind

von seiner Mutter getrennt?

Fühlst Du dich wohl wann

Mann weint?

April, April

Macht was Du willst

Warum sind sie auch gestorben?

Warum könnte ich ihnen auch nicht helfen?

Denkst du dass ich

meine Freundin verlassen möchte?

April, April

Macht was Du willst

Vielleicht es war besser und vielleicht

hast du Rechts

Aber wie kann ich daran denken?

Unserer Leben sehr schwach ist

Und Jeden Tag reiche ich

den Duft des Tods

Ich bete zu Gott

Ich weine und ich mir vorstellen

ob sie mit Ihm sind

April, April

Macht was Du willst

Ich hoffe mir dass er mir nicht verlassen wird

Am Ende des Winters haben wir noch einmal getroffen

Nur zu später trennst Du uns von

Jeden Tag denken an dem Versprechen

dass ich ihn gegeben habe

Egal wo ich bin,

starre ich an dem Himmel und ich weiß

Egal wo ich bin,

weiß ich dass er mit mir ist

Meiner kleinen Engel,

dessen Augen grünen wären

Egal wo ich bin,

habe ich dich nicht vergessen!

Liebling, hörst du dieses Gedicht

und erinnertes dich an mir

weil ich mich

Jeden Tag

Jeden Stunden

an dir erinnere

April, April

Macht was Du willst!

Belo Horizonte, 20/05/2011

Este foi a minha primeira tentativa em escrever algo em Alemão. Com o tempo, espero poder voltar e talvez melhorar aquilo que já foi dito!

Fluttering

So then again here I am

Once more alone

Sitting where I always stand

In a crossroads with no one

So then again here I cry

Once more for that piece that died

Long ago when my heart

Stopped beating for good

I wonder when will I learn

How longer must my soul ache

Where are all those which were mine,

promised at birth then later deserted

And so here I stand

Once again alone in this bench

With a puff of freezing air

cutting through my skin,

making me wish I would never be

so unloved and tossed around

like a shit-bag of human crap –

unwanted, unseen, unloved

I often think of how I see myself

and how this reflects on how

you see me – but then again,

why wonder for something which is not

So then again here I am

praying for some comfort

that never comes – hoping

for a love that was never loved

Childishly, foolishly

and so does life treat me boorishly

and on with it I go

sluggishly waiting for that day

when all of you who once turned me

away would come back and say

“We were wrong to have you tossed

like you were a disposable cup

in which we drank and got what

we wanted and no use for it was set.

We are sorry for having treated you

frivolously blinded by ourselves”

But this day will never come –

and I guess if it did come,

I would simply turn my head and smile

for vindication is best enjoyed alone

So there I am, once again

Alone how this all began

and alone how it would all end

For there is no recipe

No magic that would make me crawl

into a cocoon and metamorphose me

into something I am not –

into someone you would want

me to be – but then again

this is me; childishly, foolishly

waiting for that which was said

to be mine by right and justice

That which was said to be aligned

and soon to come – my true self

my one and only love

the one who would sweep me up

But none of these came

And alone today I stand

And alone tomorrow I’ll be

Here and forever – through eternity


Belo Horizonte, 22/05/2011