Mariana Gorjão’s blog

Days that passed
Days to come
I remember thee
As I go on.

The Summer burned my face
But I smiled to it.
For I knew, it wouldn’t
Burn me for long.
When fall came
I was far away
Preparing for a cold
Like I hadn’t felt before.
Winter was beautiful
A sight I thought
I would never see.
Spring was a relief
For even the beautiful
Was too cold for longing.
Then Summer came again
And brought with it sadness
On my true words
For not even the Summer
Could burn me no more.

Days that passed
Days to come
I remember thee
As I go on.

As I write
And remember
How we laughed
And played
I feel tears
Coming to my eyes,
I try smiling
Thinking how
Happy those times were
But I can’t stop thinking
How sad it is
To not have a
Favorite place
Anymore.

An easy happy life
Is a dream we all have
As the fear that even
A happy life
May have a short
Sad end.

For those who fought
And showed me another way
I thank thee
And fighting I remain.

In this world
A lot I have learned
But as I follow my way
I see many who have lost theirs.
I remember then,
The suffering in crawling
Lost in our own mist.
With thin chances of being found
For no one seems to see us.
As my time is short
And I feel the end coming
I can only hope
To have made some difference.

Tired from fighting
Begging for rest.
Should it be heard?
Or waiting
Should he remain?
For brave he was
And brave he is.
Why should he wait
Still standing tall
Begging to fall
In the eternal rest
That awaits us all.

For what is eternal
And for what is not
For what in life you can find
And in death you will lose.
Can you still stand
Day after day
Striking to obtain
What will never
Be truly yours?

As I walk in the city
Many pass through me
I see them all bumping
At each other.
A few whisper sorry
Others blame the other
Some don’t even seem to notice
But none looks back
All so busy
They never really care
For they all know
They will never see
The other again.

Ping! Pong!
Ping! Pong!
E assim começa a música
Ping! Pong!
Molha e refresca
Por onde passa
Tudo renasce
Ping! Pong!
Acorda os pequeninos
Adormece-os pouco depois
Ping! Pong!
E assim continua
Ping!….

It’s cold,
I can’t breath
My lungs are burning
But I feel none to scared
Or sad.
It had to come anyway
Why not now?
I don’t feel my lungs burning anymore.
I feel light
Almost like floating
I take my first big breath
And realize
I am not drowning anymore.

I start hearing voices
I feel a weight  on my chest.
I wish it would stop
It hurts so much!
And then, I felt that smell
The smell that always made me feel
More sick than I already was.
It was then I realized.
I hadn’t died,
I was back at the hospital.

The story that I’ll tell you
Is one you have never heard
The tale of life or
The tale of living
As you prefer.
I was young when I was told.
But I remember it clearly.
He was sitting on that old chair
His hands together and his eyes closed:
“I was young when I was told
Of this tale:
As everyone struggles to find
Meaning in life and death
They forget perhaps,
The most important one of all
The meaning of living.
As we walk and choose our ways
We find different answers, or none at all.
But nevertheless
We keep walking.
For there is nothing else left to do.
My father, as his father before him
Chose not to dwelt on life and death
But in suffering.
For all suffering is in living
And living is in all suffering.
But as I now start forgetting
I ask you to remember
And tell the tale to someone
Who will seek the way out of suffering
By living with it.”
And as I now start forgetting
I ask you to tell this tale
To someone who will seek
The way out of suffering
By living with it.

My hideout
I shall never find
For I once spot it
Then lost it
Without ever coming
Back on track.
For what I have once lost
I may remain hidden.

I have a secret
I always keep it near me
So close that I can
Always hear it.
So smooth,
Just like my heart
Beating slowly.
It tends to lean
And try to escape
But it never does,
It goes back in
And stays with me
Always with me.

But then,
Someone calls it
And it leans so much
That I can feel
Every single heart beat
Striking in my chest.
Funny though,
That I always feel sad
When it comes back in.

I’m losing it
I can’t write
I can’t think,
I don’t feel
I’m tired
But I don’t want to rest
I want to finish
But I haven’t even began.
I look around
Ideas all over
But nothing works
Nothing is good enough.
I want something different
I want something new and fresh
Start, re-start
Think and write
No! Write and think!
Are you done?
No!
Oops, I’ve finished already…

Don’t worry! It will all go away.
I turned around, but there’s no one there
Could it be? Could everything be okay?
Could everything go away?
No, I don’t think so,
But still, wouldn’t it be great
If at least something changed?

Life is hard
Death is easy
Life is hard to control
Death you can chose or wait.
Life gives and takes
Death too.
Life ends
Death doesn’t.

A vida é difícil
A morte é fácil
A vida é díficil de controlar
A morte pode-se escolher
Ou esperar.
A vida dá e tira
A morte também.
A vida acaba
A morte não.

Everything disappears

It will all go away
Wishes and hopes are fading
I can’t see very well.
I’m bumping, bumping
And bumping.
So many forms around me.
Even when I see nothing
I keep bumping.
I’m falling,
I can feel my body closer and closer
To the ground
I move my arms forward
But I touch nothing ,
I wasn’t falling after all.

The walk, even so short
Shows many things,
I see some reddish trees,
How beautiful they are.
But as I moved
Their leaves would fall,
So I stopped and admired,
And what an enchanting
Sight it was.
The sun, starting to go down
Would give an orange tone
To everything
Except,
The falling red leaves.
They were dead and yet
So beautiful I could look at them
Forever.
But soon they would disappear
And give life to something else.
I continued the walk.
I saw a weeping willow.
I stared at it,
And wondered, for what did he cry.
Was it joy or sadness?
Maybe frustration.
I laughed at myself for wondering such things
And went on with the walk.

Oh my! What a long day
But now at last I may rest
Oh, but it was a crowded day
Full with little grief and endless joy
To so many I said ” good-day!”
And now “good-night!”
But, at the end of the day
I must also say “goodbye”.
For this day I push
My life away.
And now, thanks to all
Rest I may.

O espelho reflete o que vê
Embora não o possa fazer sozinho.
Ele vê e reflecte, ele vê e reflecte
Essa é a função e a vida do espelho
Ele mostra-nos o que vê
Embora nem sempre mostre a
VERDADE.