Rainy Mood

Etiquetas

English, Literatura, poesía

Speak and I will answer

Your silence is too noisy.

 

Don´t let me down again

And let me read your pain.

 

Your silence is the end

I will not ask again.

 

I long for the sound of your voice,

Cause I´m obsessed by its noise.

 

The past is too crowded,

And the present is haunted.

 

Fear the rainy days without me

And the shadows of our tree.

 

Break your ice

And let me in

 

Or I´ll let you go forever

And you know I won´t be back.

 

Dare to be yourself again,

And I´ll be your lover till the end.

Feeling Nowhere

Etiquetas

Bruselas, Budapest, English, Estocolmo, Estrasburgo, Luxemburgo, poesía, vida, Zúrich

A forgotten bottle of Spanish wine brings back memories.

I look out the window holding my glass.

Closing my eyes I breathe in the smell of my wine.

It smells like home.

 

Haunted by my feelings, I begin to fall apart.

Wet eyes full of tears are shouting that I´m wrong.

I wonder why I am so far away from home.

 

I love this country, it´s cold and calm.

My mind speaks languages that I don´t even understand.

 

I close my eyes and again breathe in the smell of my wine.

Images of my country come to mind,

Warmth, light, faces, laughters, and the sun.

It is late at night.

 

I drink the whole glass of wine and then a second one.

The wine tastes like home and takes me to that place in the sun.

 

I breathe the clean, cold air of this quiet night.

I´m not feeling better and I need another one.

I do love this country and the taste of my wine.

 

I´m awake again!

Spanish words run through my blood.

I thought I’d lost them but they are back!

My blood is burning lost in the dark.

 

I love this city, I really do.

But I am dead tired of it too.

My country´s been waiting for a long time.

It can´t wait to have me there and neither can I.

 

Wait for me just one more night!

Though the night I left, I let you die.

And now we know that we only have this glass of wine.

 

En mitad de la noche/ In the middle of the night

Etiquetas

English, pensamientos, Reflexiones

Te levantas en mitad de la noche porque no puedes dormir. Todo está oscuro y te diriges esa ventana que has dejado abierta. Allí está tu ordenador. Te sientas y cierras los ojos mientras respiras una brisa fresca y limpia. Miras hacia arriba y ves una luna brillante y redonda. Todo está en silencio y ese silencio te devuelve la paz que no encontrabas en tu cama.

Por la noche todo parece distinto. Empiezas a recibir imágenes en tu cerebro del día que acaba de pasar y reflexionas un instante. Ves tu vida desde una perspectiva distinta. Tienes la impresión de verte a ti misma dentro de una película. La cuestión es que el guión parece haber sido escrito por otros. Es totalmente ajeno a ti, de hecho te sorprenden algunas imágenes que recuerdas.

Parece como si te hubieses bajado de un tren que no dejaba de correr y pudieras pararte a pensar. Algo imposible durante el ajetreado día.

La paz que tenías se trasforma en cierta inquietud. Empiezas a ver demasiadas cosas en tu vida que te gustaría cambiar. Los pensamientos se vuelven acuciantes y agitados, cierras los ojos para aplacarlos, respiras el aire fresco de la noche y dejas que llegue al fondo de tus pulmones. Parece como si las preocupaciones desapareciesen por un momento, pero pronto el silencio te devuelve a tu reflexión anterior.

Te preguntas si tus pensamientos nocturnos están distorsionados o si no lo están en absoluto. Piensas sobre parcelas abandonadas que tu consciencia no se atreve a abordar de día. Asuntos para los que ni tienes tiempo a pensar cuando hay luz.

Normalmente los acontecimientos trascurren tan rápidamente y sin apenas interrupción, que no te da tiempo a pararte a vivirlos y ni sabes si te gusta o no tu situación. Hay demasiada prisa como para pararse a recapacitar. Y cuando te das cuenta, te levantas una noche y no ha pasado un día, sino que han pasado unos años.

Parece que te aferres a propósito y por pura cobardía a todas esas banalidades que ocupan tus horas diurnas para no tener tiempo de pararte a pensar en tu realidad. No te atreves a despertar tu consciencia y a hacerte preguntas.

Entonces, ¿a qué pensamientos debemos prestar atención, a los que nos atormentan en mitad de una oscura noche o a los que afloran en mitad de un claro día en el que todo parece normal y cotidiano?

 

In the middle of the night (English)

You wake up in the middle of the night because you can’t sleep. Everything is dark and you walk over to that window you left open. There is your computer. You sit down and close your eyes while you breathe in the fresh, clean air. You look up and see a shining, round moon. Everything is silent and that silence gives you back a sense of peace that eluded you in bed.

Everything is different at night. Images from your day start to flash through your mind and you take a moment to reflect. You see your life from a different perspective. You feel like you are seeing yourself in a movie. The problem is that the script seems to have been written by others. It’s completely foreign to you and some of the images you recall surprise you.

It’s like you fell from a moving train and can finally take a moment to think, something impossible to do during the busy day.

The peace you had turns into a certain restlessness. You start to see too many things in your life that you would like to change. Thoughts become urgent and agitated, you close your eyes against them, breathe the fresh night air deep into your lungs. It seems as if your worries disappear for a moment, but the silence soon brings you back to your previous thoughts.

You wonder if your thoughts at night are distorted or if they’re actually the clearest thoughts of all. You think about those locked-away things you dare not face during the day. Issues which you don’t even have time to think about when it’s light out. 

Events usually happen so quickly and with so little time in between that you never have time to stop and experience them; you don’t know if you like where you’re at or not. Things are too rushed to stop and reconsider. And when you finally take notice, you wake up one night and more than just a day has passed: it’s been a few years.

It seems like you cling to all those things that occupy your daylight hours on purpose and out of sheer cowardice so that you don’t have time to stop and think about your reality. You don’t dare to awaken your consciousness and ask yourself questions.

What thoughts should we pay attention to, then: those that haunt us in the middle of a dark night or those that pop up in the middle of a clear day that seems just like any other?