Dreams of Imagination

Dream as a path to freedom
For ages used for escaped
From life own selfishness
And the hate of human soul

Arise, my images of beauty
Space and time forgotten
Orchids and roses foretold
Creations of my own…

Lands of wild imaginations
Grow inside my head
Pictures of rare enchantments
Waiting there…

Someone is hiding in the shadows
Both can see it… you and me
With staring eyes in the gloom
Where is it, what can it be…

Palavras de rosas

Caem lágrimas de sal
Naquele texto ancestral
Sobre as preces de todos
Em cânticos de lobos

Escritos pela rosa
Em formas de prosa
Escritos em espinho
Mergulhados em vinho

Esbate o carmim
Naquela noite sem fim
Em tons de azul nascente
Ao som da lenha ardente

Peço inspiração ao verde
Aquele que antagoniza a sede
Onde vive a fada secular
E que faz a alma chorar

Escrevo em vários tons
No crepúsculo dos sons
Sob a alçada divina
Oh deusa Ataegina…

Cânticos de luz
A dança que seduz
O rio cor de prata
Na aurora que mata

Esconde o infinito
No dia maldito
Uma miríade de Guardiães
Mercenários por vinténs

E escrevo distantemente
Sobre a graduação crescente
No amarelo envelhecido
Com o espinho descaído

Sei que o dia virá
E que me libertará
Desta avenida contida
Daquela rua perdida

Temporal Distension

Signify and postulate the reason
In the slumber of the season
Restrain the needle in the wound
As the truth stares in the gloom

Hence for we sing
A melody to the wind
For a view in the spring
To the raining cream

Where are we tonight?
In that past so might
The turbulence of thoughts
Over the inertia of onslaughts

I will find you in that glade
That hides in the shade
Of the temporal mist
In the shadows bliss

Silky Memoirs / Memórias de Seda by MJB

Was there rain in the stars?
In that day when we thought
Over those memoirs?

Quando te recolher em mãos como conchas
Dir-te-ei palavras.
Dar-te-ei de mim mais do que o corpo,
Pois o corpo é matéria apenas.

Things were said that will be
About a strange destiny
A path that fails to clear
In the indifferent revere

Muitas vezes a distância
Ponte são as palavras
Que depois de escritas e apodrecidas
Semeiam em nós elos inquebrantáveis,
Memórias da seda de teus dedos em minha pele.

Where the stars crying?
In the moment we’re trying
To flee from inertia
To a void of amnesia?

Quando te recolher em mãos como conchas
Dir-te-ei palavras.
Para te lavar a alma dorida

Pelo fustigar do tempo que impiedoso

Was the oblivion present
During the sun descent
Under a dusking sky
And the clouds up high

Brota do ventre da vida
Quando te recolher em mãos como conchas.Dir-te-ei palavras.

May screams silence the day
For the night is on its way
The stars shall weep
A silky creek

Espera-me pois com a alma rasgada
Para que te possa um dia recolher em mãos como conchas

There shall we bathe
In the mist of a shade
Of a glade in green
Over lights never seen

Upon a river of haze
As falling from grace
A torment of distance
A cry from absence

A catharsis in unity
Escapes from obscurity
An example of truth
In eternal youth

The sea shall embrace
As the raven dance
To the moon portrait
For his own escape

For the feelings are strong
And there to belong
From the scars of the earth
To the Angels rebirth

After all the stars do cry
Through out the crimson sky
And spread their silk
To every ilk

And the Key lingers still
In the abyss that kneels
Through a glass of wine
With the burden of time

The there we remain
In a slumber disdain
And the silence runs deep
Over a cascade of sleep

Acheron (River of Sadness)

Once upon a time
In a letter carved in rhymes
With blood for ink
An atypical print

There lays restless
In living fortress
The demons once free
Attempting to flee

In this days of sorrow
Emerged in hollow
Alone with the pain
Inside my domain

The needle is dissecting
While the soul is expecting
Those feelings will flow
In the oblivion that grow

Thus fore the shell’s closing
And the light fading
Darkness shall reign supreme
And life becomes a dream

Where barefooted I’ll stroll
In search for my Soul
Over the roses thorns
And a cascade of mourns

A river of motionless fluids
Run deep in ruins
And the castle crumbles
As the soul slumbers

Will I ever reach the end?
Of this feeling that extends
Over this forgotten place
One day locked in haze

I’m still breathing
Air that slowly is feeding
From my strength and willing
As I fadeout in feelings

But the river moves silently
Expressed aromatically
In a scent of serenity
And the scant of certainty

But the ink starts to dry
Over the thundering sky
In a crimson stain
In the dying brain

The soul denies
As the heart cries
The river crawls noisily
As life stands quietly

A Minha Dor

“A minha Dor é um convento ideal
Cheio de claustros, sombras, arcarias,
Aonde a pedra em convulsões sombrias
Tem linhas de um requinte escultural

Os sinos têm dobres de agonias
Ao gemer, comovidos, o seu mal…
E todos têm sons de funeral
Ao bater das horas, no correr dos dias

A minha Dor é um convento. Há lírios
Dum roxo macerado de martírios,
Tão belos como nunca os viu alguém!

Nesse triste convento aonde eu moro,
Noites e dias rezo e grito e choro
E ninguém ouve… ninguém vê… ninguém…”

- Florbela Espanca
in Livro de Mágoas