That Damn Flag!!!!

 

I know … you’ve tried everything … but it did not work …. I also tried hard but

nothing worked so well…. and here I am …. in the middle of this path

 Misty .. with a desire … full moon or waning moon … taking advantage of solar rests … not begging … but just feeling … Oh! in my flesh ….sincerely…..
and waiting …. waiting on this colorful heart …. that looks like a flag flying

 not …to the wind … but on your will ….
then you blow your desires …. blows …. and wills … but i Recognize this wind … again and again …. is you knocking at my door ….
are we talking or am i talking alone??

Blows, blows the flag My flagthat never will come

Hello Stranger ….

 

Foreign, Foreign ~They are announcing your Name~
you make me laugh
I make you blush ~ in response~Hello Stranger!
don’t worries sailor
we are sailing in the middle of sea and wind
and my kisses are the announcement of my departure
(when i write to a stranger) ….
maybe my kisses one day
crushed ~by the palm of your hands~
could become welcome
so i’ll keep making you blush
and you keep making me laugh

Wind, Blow, Gail!

vento e solidão MMI tried to do the best! Hope you like this translation!

Wind, Blow, Gail!

I took part in a gale
the biggest of my life
strange atmospheric variation
coming so suddenly

What he did to me?
Ah! I remain with almost nothing

I say, that kind of wind,
start temperate
in the morning
kind a little cold a mist
a little tepid.
So smooth ~ not hear it ~

far in the day ~ it burns ~
whip more precisely

Night fall,
throw me to the ground
sometimes!

But, I, accustomed to the winds
and yours subtle moves
soon, felt on my chest
that i was adrift

Wind, blow, gale
comes sets from the north
bringing a restless and unexpected blow
a demanding heat!

cold and hot
goes, taking all around
hands and legs
making swirls

I had to ask to myself
Is it passed ? Completely?

or

has to resigned to the will
to such voracity

Taking all and nothing rest
prevails and dominates
in its short period of times

strange wind!
Impatient wind!

comes from another time
and play with us

Vento, Ventado, Ventania!!!

ventoThis poem has a strange story and it is very difficult to translate into English. I did it thinking in my native language . So the rhythm is totally different when I try to translate into English. There are words and sounds which need further study. But I swear to you I will try.
The poem speaks of winds, various types and many names. As the intensity of the wind grows, or blow or gale she changes too.

I think of her, putting clothes to dry in the backyard. Then, at that moment, the wind comes, and comes bringing old memories ….

Vento, Ventado, Ventania!

Participei de uma ventania
A maior de minha vida!
Estranha variação atmosférica
vinda assim tão de repente
O que me causou?
Ah! E pouco que me restou!
Digo que tal ar,
começa brando.
Manhã,
assim meio frio
meio morno.
Suave, tanto não se escuta
Tarde ~arde mais~
Açoita com mais precisão
Noite,
derruba, avassala, destrói!
Mas eu afeita aos ventos
habituada aos seus sutis movimentos
logo, senti em meu peito
que esse vento seria permanente

Vento! Ventado! Ventania!
Vem soprando do norte
trazendo, agitado e inconsequente
um calor exigente!

Frio e depois quente.
Vai levando
mãos e braços
faz redemoinhos!
ele Passou?
Totalmente?
E há de se submeter
a tal voracidade!
Leva tudo, nada fica.
Impera e domina

Vento estranho!

Vento impaciente!
chega de outros tempos
e brinca com a gente!

Pretending you exist!

hovering over me
your sickness of blues

you are a ghost
that orbit all around

the path of a heavenly body Peak District By Andrew YU.jpg1doing play with my grief

my moon’s courses

insisting to stole my senses

celestial dust
that

came to visit me
in a gust of wind

I will  accept!

i will go wade through
down the stream

on my bare feet

refreshing my flesh
at one dash

waiting for you
on the right side
on my watercourse

Pretending you exist!

In my mist

Blame the wind

There, between two pointed Rocks

vast plain to eyes see
a solitary man
stand still

the wind blows from the moorlands
reaches him

pretending
be her voice

fingers of death over your left shoulder

to give the bitter kiss

in the immense meadow

a solitary man
keep vigil

waiting so far
don’t seeing this view
between two worlds

where she lay

everything has to do with the wind

as it blows cold and cruel

over the relentless man

molded and carved by it.
among  the living
sculptured  man

there

embraced by memories

Now wrapped

for deadly dark souls

to give him hell

Blame the Wind!

A soultwo pointed rocks1

cut in stone

like the two rocks

at beginning of the scenes