February 2011
69 posts
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Virtutes & Virtia feat. Ink Stained Heart: What do... →
virtuesvirtia
What ‘do’ the poet do, While on the emptiness of poem I’m living in exile for its creation?
Where do the words hide themselves During this cold emptiness of a blank page?
Where do they bed down During its hiatus of verses?
What ‘do’ the poet do, While the omens of life and death Lead my feelings asking for more?
inkstainedheart
You breathe and you live. With eyed wide open...
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Sonnet - If love is not, what is this feeling?
S’ amor non è, che dunque è quel ch’ io sento? Ma s’egli è amor, per Dio, che cosa e quale? Se buona, ond è effetto aspro mortale? Se ria, ond’ è si dolce ogni tormento? S’a mia voglia arado, ond’ è ‘I pianto e ‘I lamento? S’a mal mio grado, il lamentar che vale? O viva morte, o dilettoso male, Come puoi tanto in me s’io nol consento? E s’io ‘I consento, a gran torto mi doglio. Fra sì contrari...
January 2011
90 posts
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“The value of things is not the time they last, but the intensity with which they...”
– Fernando Pessoa translated by Virtutes&Virtia
myinkstainedheart asked: hi there!
writer's block huh?
do you mind if reblog and answer it? make it kind of like a collab?
writer's block huh?
do you mind if reblog and answer it? make it kind of like a collab?
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What do I do, during my yearning?
What ‘do’ the poet do, While on the emptiness of poem I’m living in exile for its creation?
Where do the words hide themselves During this cold emptiness of a blank page?
Where do they bed down During its hiatus of verses?
What ‘do’ the poet do, While the omens of life and death Lead my feelings asking for more?
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Belarusian I
even our mothers have no idea how we were born how we parted their legs and crawled out into the world the way you crawl from the ruins after a bombing we couldn’t tell which of us was a girl or a boy we gorged on dirt thinking it was bread and our future a gymnast on a thin thread of the horizon was performing there at the highest pitch bitch
we grew up in a country where first your door...
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Experience Point
In the midst of my role as writer
I suffer the misfortune of experience
For in its greatness I was made poet
To unfortunately fall in love
Through the verses that I celebrate
With the cries of my poems
For only living once
The most important experience…
And once it’s enough
Here is something I wrote after a conversation with Elina Astra, whose words have been teasing me to write here...
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Loving Silence I
Let me love you in silence Don’t ask, don’t explain, let our tongues touch, and mouths and skin speak their own fluid desires.
Let me love you without words except those that in memory will stay pulsing forever as if love and life were a speech of unspeakable emotions.
by Affonso Romano de Sant’Anna
translated by
Virtutes&Vitia
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The loving shepherd
I spent the whole night without sleeping, watching, without space, her figure, And seeing her always in different ways of what I find for her, I make thoughts with the recollection of what she is when she speaks To me, And in every thought she varies according to its similarity. To love is to think. And I almost forget to feel just by I thinking about her. I’m not sure what I want, even...
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“When we are born we cry that we are come to this great stage of fools.”
– William Shakespeare
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“I may not agree with any words you say, but I’ll defend to the death the...”
– Voltaire
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XIII (Trilce)
Pienso en tu sexo. Simplificado el corazón, pienso en tu sexo, ante el hijar maduro del día. Palpo el botón de dicha, está en sazón. Y muere un sentimiento antiguo degenerado en seso.
Pienso en tu sexo, surco más prolífico y armonioso que el vientre de la Sombra, aunque la Muerte concibe y pare de Dios mismo. Oh Conciencia, pienso, sí, en el bruto libre que goza donde quiere,...
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One Kiss
You were the best kiss of my life, or perhaps the worst … Glory and torment, with you in light I went up the firmament, with you I went through the hell down! You died, and my desire doesn’t forget you: burns my blood, fills me thinking, and from your bitter taste I feed, and roll you up in the badly wounded mouth. Extreme kiss, my prize and my punishment, baptism and extreme...
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“The grammar, the same arid grammar, it turns into something like an evocative...”
– Charles Baudelaire
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“There are moments in life when we miss so much
someone that what we want the...”
– Clarice Lispector
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I learned
I learned … … that to ignore the facts does not change;
I learned … … that when you plan to get even with someone, only letting that person continue to hurt you;
I learned … … that Love, not time, heals all wounds;
I learned … … no one is perfect until you fall in love with that person;
I learned … … that life is hard, but I’m...
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“Purify your heart before you let love in, because even the sweetest honey sours...”
– Pythagoras
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The Unthinkable Doors of Illusion
What takes my boat to this beach where a elusive power is satisfied with the ambiguous offer of words?
We are here in the tiny boat of desire exposed on the weak uniqueness of verb
Always dissatisfied we await to open up the unthinkable doors of illusion
by Ana Hatherly
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Orgasm
Sex adorable word Act delightful tireless Body slippery curves wonderful You I’m doomed you’re guilty Eagerness Cold night Winter at dawn Feels like summer Feverishness Passion’s guilt Your child’s face Smiling Do not stop … I’m almost reaching.
By Liz Christine translated by Virtutes&Vitia
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krystalchu:
Someday We’ll Know | New Radicals
...
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“(…)
I’m an impudence on table set
of a verse where it can be...”
– Natália Correia in ‘A defesa do poeta’
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“I’ve finished, finally, this work, which neither the wrath of Jupiter, nor fire,...”
– Publius Ovidius Naso (Ovid)
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Po' Boy Blues
When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. Since I come up North de Whole damn world’s turned cold.
I was a good boy, Never done no wrong. Yes, I was a good boy, Never done no wrong, But this world is weary An’ de road is hard an’ long.
I fell in love with A gal I thought was kind. Fell in love with A gal I thought was kind....
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“If I know what love is, it is because of you.”
– Hermann Hesse
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Entrega
Una ola rompe violenta en la playa de nuestros cuerpos nos inunda un rugido de mar contra las rocas. Al retirarse, lenta, nos deja una brisa erótica que nos envuelve uniéndonos para siempre en un beso.
by Amparo Jimenez
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Because
Not every kiss is passion Not every grimace is pain Not everything is challenge Because not everything is love! …
by Maria Mamede in “Lume” translated by Virtutes&Vitia
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“All people want is someone to listen.”
– Hugh Elliott
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“La sabiduría es algo que llama a tu puerta cuando ya no sirve nada.
(Wisdom is...”
– Gabriel García Márquez
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Cradle Song
Sleep, sleep, beauty bright, Dreaming in the joys of night; Sleep, sleep; in thy sleep Little sorrows sit and weep.
Sweet babe, in thy face Soft desires I can trace, Secret joys and secret smiles, Little pretty infant wiles.
As thy softest limbs I feel Smiles as of the morning steal O’er thy cheek, and o’er thy breast Where thy little heart doth rest.
O the cunning wiles that...
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“The worst they can tell about me is that I’m never satisfied.”
– Janis Joplin
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Plano (Plan)
Trabalho o poema sobre uma hipótese: o amor que se despeja no copo da vida, até meio, como se o pudéssemos beber de um trago. No fundo, como o vinho turvo, deixa um gosto amargo na boca. Pergunto onde está a transparência do vidro, a pureza do líquido inicial, a energia de quem procura esvaziar a garrafa; e a resposta são estes cacos que nos cortam as mãos, a mesa da alma suja de...
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“Happiness is simply a temporary condition that proceeds unhappiness.”
– Fellini
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Changes
Lately I’m no longer feeling comfortable to post my original writings here, but only my translations of the greatest influences on my work, or just anything that draws my attention.
Maybe one day I’ll be back to write here or somewhere else out Tumblr. Goodbye until then. ;)
P.S.: I just won’t post my own writings for awhile, that doesn’t mean I will not read or post...
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Good and Expressive
Ended up bad your verse,
but you say it with purpose:
it’s an evil that is not evil,
it’s fighting against good.
Goes to me these rhymes
that so good outcome and
they are the fools cake
and you twist their necks,
like the other sought
if it has made to eloquence,
and if there was a ‘Your Excellence’
screaming: - It’s not poetry!,
say it’s not, it is...
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Mirror, Mirror, Bloody Fibber
Mirror, mirror, on the wall, Can’t you show me tall and slim? Mirror, mirror, on the wall, Must I look so bloody grim?
Mirror, mirror, on the wall, You’re distorting my poor waist! Mirror, mirror, on the wall, And why the heck am I defaced?
Mirror, mirror, on the wall, Why have I a double chin? Mirror, mirror, on the wall, And what’s the stupid, goofy grin?
Mirror, mirror,...
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Farewell
Desde el fondo de ti, y arrodillado, un niño triste como yo, nos mira. From the bottom of you, and kneeling a sad boy, like me, looks at us.
Por esa vida que arderá en sus venas tendrían que amarrarse nuestras vidas. For this life that shall burn in your veins would have to tie up our lives.
Por esas manos, hijas de tus manos, tendrían que matar las manos mías. For these hands, daughters of your...
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Wild Nights – Wild Nights!
Wild Nights – Wild Nights! Were I with thee Wild Nights should be Our luxury!
Futile – the winds – To a heart in port – Done with the compass – Done with the chart!
Rowing in Eden – Ah, the sea! Might I moor – Tonight – In thee!
By Emily Dickinson
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“If you look hard enough for, you end up not finding the explanation (doubtful)...”
– Carlos Drummond de Andrade
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Isto - Dizem que finjo ou minto (This - They say I...
Dizem que finjo ou minto Tudo que escrevo. Não. Eu simplesmente sinto Com a imaginação. Não uso o coração. They say I pretend or lie Everything I write. No. I simply feel With imagination. I don’t use the heart. Tudo o que sonho ou passo, O que me falha ou finda, É como que um terraço Sobre outra coisa ainda. Essa coisa é que é linda. All I dream or experience, What I fail or lose,...