sábado, 8 de outubro de 2016


Farewell O my favorite unfulfilled dream!
If Fortune's a trickster, who else to blame?
Perhaps not a Finis, though it may seem;
'Tis proven things are seldom long the same.
A beautiful tale of embarrassment,
Of awkward oiellades and very few words;
Fit 'tis for a belated embracement
And the several flight of two sad birds.
Pains me the thought of having bred thee ill;
Couldn't be farther from my intention.
It boots none to ask for forgiveness, still;
Let us call it Cupid's own invention.
´Tis set another ground henceforth I'll tread.
Do join me if I'm ne'er out of thy head.

quinta-feira, 22 de setembro de 2016

Bold as Love

'I dare do all that may become a man;
Who dares do more is none', said fell Macbeth.
And I shall go not a jot further than
Thou dost allow me, upon pain of death.
Say the word and my forces I retreat:
To suffer was my fated lot from start.
But if I read thy looks they do entreat
To heal the wound where an arrow did smart.
'Tis such a conundrum I put thee in;
No easy way out is to be contrived.
Think'st not thou that to think of me is sin;
Think'st rather a truer love has arrived.
Let Jove convince thee if my words do not;
At least I know that with honour I've fought.

sábado, 17 de setembro de 2016

Raison et Déraison

Car l'amour éclate comme un prodige;
Car la grace de tes gestes est ravissante;
Car la beauté de ta face m'en oblige;
Car la follie est une force si puissante;
Car la vie même m'a tellement attrapé;
Car la chair ne peut que se faire entendre;
Car la vraie raison personnne ne la sait;
Car la seule règle d'or nous empêche de feindre.
Car la dernière chose à faire est fuir;
Car la félicité on cherche toujours;
Car la langue ne suffit pas pour traduire;
Car la rivière peut changer son cours.
Je crois, j'espère, je rêve, je prie, j'assure
Que je t'aime comme un fou est tout qu'est sûr.

quinta-feira, 15 de setembro de 2016

Upon Request

Those were the days when we did idly frolic!
When no long road would stand between us twain.
And thy fair bud I would eagerly seek;
A dark cloud of pleasure would 'gin to rain.
Will that ever be so again, I think?
Time, place and circumstance all in agreement?
So thou with thy lips lead me to the brink
And I watch thy explosive fulfillment?
Let me not think on it, it must be now!
No impediment must be an excuse.
Love's thrice repured nectar shall stain thy brow;
And a joyful rest will our bodies fuse.
Oh, but I dream: thou sleep'st in a strange bed.
Maybe we have spent all that could be had.

quinta-feira, 8 de setembro de 2016


What hackneyed image should I now employ
To extol thy unsurpassable grace?
That of flower, angel or such a toy,
Never to do justice to thine own face?
No! None but thy living self is my subject;
And my poor pen must praise thy ev'ry part.
No offence in the matter thou'lt object;
If any, blame the muses, 'tis their art.
Those deep dark alluring eyes mine so crave
Are set within a frame beyond dissection;
And thy auburn crown rests ever so brave
On the daintiest neck since world's conception.
Thine are gorgeous arms and delicate hands;
And since mine touch'd thy fingers I won't sit.
Upon marble columns thy figure stands;
Vulcan with his skill would not forge thy feet.
But beyond all that, anyone can see:
Thy gracious smile is the best part of thee.

terça-feira, 6 de setembro de 2016


I dreamt the most improbable of fancies:
Two yet unknown saints did argue their cases.
The respectful yet fiercest of adversaries
In human affairs contended their places.
Saint Everlast still boasted of his order;
While Quicksand would praise necessary change.
Quoth one, 'what is must be, there is no other'.
Th'other, 'stability to man is strange'.
'Plato aids me', cried one's exasperation;
'Truth holds above this illusory world'.
'All is becoming' was the protestation
Of him who Heraclitus would unfold.
Thus woke I recollecting my impressions;
Convinced I was that time mocks human passions.

quarta-feira, 20 de julho de 2016

Brightest star

Shine forth O thou brightest star out of reach.
To cast thy light is all I thee beseech.
A lume to direct a wandering bark;
A welcome solace when the night is stark.
Venus was retrograde when thee I saw:
Thy beauty put me in a rapture of awe;
But nature must have thee high in the firmament,
And ever be forestalled my hoped contentment.
Teach me the temp’rance to still admire thee,
But from afar, lest thy blaze will singe me.
To think that heaven would itself forswear
And change celestial motion ’s to think rare.
Rest therefore in thy sphere, luminous star.
Thy radiance doth outshine Phoebus’ car.