Astronaut

Eines Tages hat man mir gesagt,
dass Träume doof und einsamen sind.
Man hat mir auch gesagt,
dass ich zu träumen aufhören sollte.

Eines Tages hat ich zu oben geschaut,
und die wunderbaren Sterne gesehen.
Sind meine Träume so unerreichbar wie die Sterne?
Wie können sie so weit von uns sein?

Ich wollte denn ein Astronaut sein,
um zu den Sternen zu kommen.
Ich wollte denn das All erkunden,
um ihres Geheimnisses zu wissen.

Eines Tages hat man mir gesagt,
dass man die Träume, wie die Sterne,
nicht erreichen kann.
Aber ich versuche es doch mal.

Für dich, ----

Ich vermisse dich, und das ist alles!

Es gibt nichts mehr zu sagen!

Das Herzleid ist groß, und die Zeit langsam...

Wann werden wir uns noch einmal treffen?

Sag es mir!

Ich vermisse dich, und das ist alles!

Es gibt nichts mehr zu sagen!

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.