________________________________


Comecei a escrever no momento em que percebi que só pensar não mais me satisfazia.

Precisava transbordar todo aquele pensamento que só ao meu universo de idéias pertencia.

Hoje, escrevo por pura necessidade, por irresistível vício e por agradável teimosia.




Claudia Pinelli Rêgo Fernandes ®



segunda-feira, junho 13, 2005

Meu presente


Capa do cd Opaline do Dishwalla Posted by Hello


Quando te encontrei

Eu nada fui e nada seria...

Eu nada fiz e nada faria...

Eu nada tinha e nada teria...

Quando te encontrei,
me encontrei,
me tornei,
me senti.

Passei a ser;
a existir;
a viver;
a te querer;
a sorrir;

Quando te encontrei,
me descobri,
me afirmei,
me conheci.

Quando te encontrei,
nasci.

Porque tu és meu alento,
minha força,
meu ser.


Preciso falar mais alguma coisa??? Certamente que não!

Para vc, amor da minha vida!

Bjo.

Música: Every Little Thing desse cd acima, Opaline do Dishwalla.

2 comentários:

Anônimo disse...

Nossa Clau!!! Que felicidade!!! Pode ter a certeza de q esse é o cara mais feliz do mundo!!!! Tenho certeza q ele te ama muito mesmo, com toda a força de seu coração!!!!!! Perdidamente!!! Vc merece ser muuuuito felizzzz. Bjuxxxxx

Anônimo disse...

Desculpe, não tem nada a ver com o tópico apaixonado que escreveu, mas como imagino que gosta do mestre P. Hammill aí vai uma letra óbvia de um disco óbvio !

Forsaken Gardens


Where are all the joys of yesterday?
Where, now, is the happiness and laughter that we shared?
Gone, like our childhood dreams, aspirations and beliefs;
time is a thief, and he ravages our gardens,
stripping saplings, felling trees,
trampling on our flowers, sucking sap and drying seeds.
In the midnight candle-light of experience
all colour fades, green fingers grey.

Time, alone, shall murder all the flowers,
still, there's time to share our plots and all that we call 'ours'.
How much worse, then, if we all deny each others' needs
and keep our gardens privately?

Its getting colder, wind and rain leave gashes;
looking back, I only see the friends I've lost.
Fires smoulder, raking through the ashes
my hands are dirty, my mind is numb,
I count the cost of 'I':
"I need to get on, I've got to tend my garden;
got to shut you out, no time to crave your pardon now".

Now I see the garden that I've grown is
just the same as those outside;
the fences that, erected to protect, simply divide....
There's ruination everywhere,
the weather has played havoc with the grass...
does anyone believe his garden's really going to last?
In the time allotted us, can any man keep miserly his own?
Is there any pleasure in a solitary growth?

Come and see my garden if you wil,
I'd like someone to see it all before each root is killed.
Surely now its time to open up each life to all,
tear down the walls, if it's not too late!

There is so much sorrow in the world,
there is so much emptiness and heartbreak and pain.
Somewhere on the road we have all taken a wrong turn...
how can we build the right path again?

Through the grief, through the pain,
our flowers need each other'srain....

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