terça-feira, 10 de junho de 2014

House without colors ( Or blindness of pain )

This is my weird path,
Pierre Auguste Renoir
I haven't told you any tales,
But words are always senseless...

This is my weird loneliness,
Touching ghosts at the brightness
Of long days...

This is my weird pain,
No one cares, because
Looks have no translation.

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Haicai

   Eu vejo o sol, Nas ondas brilham sonhos, Nada mais restou. 我见太阳, 梦在波间闪烁, 再无所余。 Wǒ jiàn tàiyáng, Mèng zài bōjiān shǎ...