miércoles, enero 30, 2008

De golondrinas y poesía... Diálogo.



Volverán las oscuras golondrinas, por Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer.


Volverán las oscuras golondrinas
en tu balcón sus nidos a colgar,
y otra vez con el ala a tus cristales
jugando llamarán.
Pero aquellas que el vuelo refrenaban
tu hermosura y mi dicha a contemplar,
aquellas que aprendieron nuestros nombres...
ésas... ¡no volverán!
Volverán las tupidas madreselvas
de tu jardín las tapias a escalar
y otra vez a la tarde aún más hermosas
sus flores abrirán.
Pero aquellas cuajadas de rocío
cuyas gotas mirábamos temblar
y caer como lágrimas del día...
ésas... ¡no volverán!
Volverán del amor en tus oídos
las palabras ardientes a sonar,
tu corazón de su profundo sueño
tal vez despertará.
Pero mudo y absorto y de rodillas
como se adora a Dios ante un altar,
como yo te he querido... desengáñate,
nadie te querrá.
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Últimas golondrinas, por Mario Benedetti.

Sabes

gustavo adolfo

en cualquier año de éstos

ya no van a volver

las golondrinas

ni aún las pertinaces

las del balcón

las tuyas

es lógico

están hartas

de tanto y tanto alarde

migratorio

de tanto y tanto cruce

sobre el mar y retórica

y pretextos
y alcores


su tiempo ya pasó

lo reconocen

y a mitad de su ida

o de su vuelta
oscuras

cursilíneas

tiernitas de alas largas

se dejarán caer

como buscando

cada una su ola
terminal.

lunes, enero 28, 2008

Fidelity, por Regina Spektor.


I never loved nobody fully
Always one foot on the ground

And by protecting my heart truly

I got lost in the sounds

I hear in my mind

All these voices
I hear in my mind all these words

I hear in my mind all this music

And it breaks my heart

And it breaks my heart
And it breaks my heart

It breaks my heart


And suppose I never ever met you

Suppose we never fell in love

Suppose I never ever let you kiss me so sweet and so soft

Suppose I never ever saw you
Suppose we never ever called

Suppose I kept on singing love songs just to break my own fall


Just to break my fall

Just to break my fall

Break my fall

Break my fall


All my friends say that of course its gonna get better

Gonna get better

Better better better better

Better better better

sábado, enero 19, 2008

My interpretation, por Mika


You talk about life, you talk about death,
And everything in between,
Like it's nothing, and the words are easy.
You talk about me, and you talk about you,
And everything I do,
Like it's something, that needs repeating.
I don't need an alibi or for you to realize,

The things we left unsaid,

Are only taking space up in our head.


Make it my fault, win the game
Point the finger, place the blame

It does me up and down,
It doesn't matter now.

'Cause I don't care if I ever talk to you again.
This is not about emotion,

I don't need a reason not to care what you say,

Or what happened in the end.
This is my interpretation,
And it don't, don't make sense.


The first two weeks turn into ten,
I hold my breath and wonder when it'll happen,
Does it really matter?

If half of what you said is true,

And half of what I didn't do could be different,

Would it make it better?

If we forget the things we know.
Would we have somewhere to go?

The only way is down, I can see that now.