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setembro 17, 2006
she
She may be the face I can't forget
The trace of pleasure or regret
Maybe my treasure or the price I have to pay
She may be the song that summer sings
May be the chill that autumn brings
May be a hundred different things
Within the measure of a day
She may be the beauty or the beast
May be the famine or the feast
May turn each day into a Heaven or a Hell
She may be the mirror of my dreams
A smile reflected in a stream
She may not be what she may seem
Inside her shell....
She, who always seems so happy in a crowd
Whose eyes can be so private and so proud
No one's allowed to see them when they cry
She maybe the love that cannot hope to last
May come to me from shadows in the past
That I remember 'till the day I die
She maybe the reason I survive
The why and wherefore I'm alive
The one I care for through the rough and ready years
Me, I'll take the laughter and her tears
And make them all my souvenirs
For where she goes I've got to be
The meaning of my life is
She....She
Oh, she....
Charles Aznavour e Herbert Kretzmer, canta Elvis Costello
Diz o Jorge Castro:
ela
que mesmo estando perto da ausência
que a distancia
da nossa ansiedade ou da sofreguidão
crava em nós um doce punhal
de inexplicável sofrimento
ela
a imperecível
que vive ao rés de nós tão entranhada
que a pele é carne viva
quando ausente…
Publicado por ognid às setembro 17, 2006 04:52 PM