Huir,
escapar sin mirar atrás,
ser tránsfuga de tu existencia,
esclavo de los pesares,
adicto a los transeúntes de tu vida,
a las penas y a las alegrías,
a ser nada y a ser un todo,
a comerte el cielo a tonos.
Huir,
de las noches sin luna,
de los días marchitos en la cuna,
de una puta triste en la esquina
de tu vigor hecho una agonía,
de los lamentos de los cielos,
de las fieras colmadas a tercios.
Huir,
a una infinita nada funesta,
a los límites de lo que es y no es,
a los brazos de tu querida amante:
la sórdida terquedad de tu mente.
Huir,
de ti mismo, de las luces, de los tristes coitos,
huir de t
It was the night that stole my mind,
or the moon that made me blind,
so I can't see anything around
but the stars that break me down.
Shine a light across my doom,
make my life explode and bloom,
for all I want is to arise
and get rid of all this demise.
For the night couldn't take me anymore
and myself I could finally restore,
as I'll be able to see again
and cherish the long gone disdain.
An artist, channeler of beauty.
imperfect expression of perfection
grandiloquent loneliness of creation,
a true paragon of this duty.
An artist, tamer of chaos,
liquid fire through its veins
a feeling born on the reins,
of the soul's inner taos.
An artist, breaker of frontiers,
explorer of feelings unknown
grateful lover of their own,
even if those are only tears.
I és en les corves que em perdo,
la sinuositat del seu sabor,
laberint de plaers i fugides,
presó amb ferma maror.
I són els ulls la llengua esclava
que només penso en poder recitar
i acaronar versos on s'animava
la joia del cel en el somniar.
I en tu que et penso i et sento
i en mi, que et vull sentir i pensar
sentir-me dins la teva marea
i en ferm poder-me ofegar.
I en mi, dibuixar-te al meu cos
o en tu, dibuixar-te amb els dits
vers la teva esquena nua
com a tapís de les meves quimeres.
Huir,
escapar sin mirar atrás,
ser tránsfuga de tu existencia,
esclavo de los pesares,
adicto a los transeúntes de tu vida,
a las penas y a las alegrías,
a ser nada y a ser un todo,
a comerte el cielo a tonos.
Huir,
de las noches sin luna,
de los días marchitos en la cuna,
de una puta triste en la esquina
de tu vigor hecho una agonía,
de los lamentos de los cielos,
de las fieras colmadas a tercios.
Huir,
a una infinita nada funesta,
a los límites de lo que es y no es,
a los brazos de tu querida amante:
la sórdida terquedad de tu mente.
Huir,
de ti mismo, de las luces, de los tristes coitos,
huir de t
An artist, channeler of beauty.
imperfect expression of perfection
grandiloquent loneliness of creation,
a true paragon of this duty.
An artist, tamer of chaos,
liquid fire through its veins
a feeling born on the reins,
of the soul's inner taos.
An artist, breaker of frontiers,
explorer of feelings unknown
grateful lover of their own,
even if those are only tears.
I és en les corves que em perdo,
la sinuositat del seu sabor,
laberint de plaers i fugides,
presó amb ferma maror.
I són els ulls la llengua esclava
que només penso en poder recitar
i acaronar versos on s'animava
la joia del cel en el somniar.
I en tu que et penso i et sento
i en mi, que et vull sentir i pensar
sentir-me dins la teva marea
i en ferm poder-me ofegar.
I en mi, dibuixar-te al meu cos
o en tu, dibuixar-te amb els dits
vers la teva esquena nua
com a tapís de les meves quimeres.
So, here I am, again. I've finished my study duties for some time, so I have pretty much more spare time, and I've been writing a little bit. So, I'll try to upload something as soon as possible!
Anyway, I've also got a twitter account, if somebody has one, tell me! I'd love to interact a little bit more!
Cheers!
I've been feeling the urge, the need, to write, but I've been busy with some other mundane tasks, such as working or studying. And, once in a while, sleeping. I've had some spare time, but, honestly, just wanted to lay on my couch watching some movies (some terrible ones, to be honest). So... I think I'll be back in just a couple of weeks. To let the words flow again through my veins. Until then, I keep watching your works, as muchs as I can, from once in a while.
Mr. Bans.
After some days enjoying a cold and a nice insomnia attack, I look like a zombie. If you mix it with the fact that college started (I'm one of those crazy ones studying and working at the same time), the result is: no time at all, and complete incapacity of writing something decent.
So, excuse me for my poor updating, I'll have to take a mental viagra in order to make it all work again! :D
By the way, I'm looking for someone that would like to make me a gift: a literature author tag. So, if you're interested in not getting paid, but having my eternal adoration and gratitude (or maybe I can write something only for your viewing pleasure in e