quinta-feira, 19 de março de 2009


In this farewell
I find a close well
So far is the edge
So close is the fate

Find your edge.
I’ll be looking for mine.
More and more find your edge.
More and more I’ll look for mine.
And, who knows:
One day you will find;
One day I will find

The edge is not the destiny;
The path is not the destiny;
The carried stone is.

And who knows you will find;
And who knows I will find:
You are pushing a stone,
and the stone you push
is the very same stone I pull

And being your pushed stone.
And being my pulled stone.
The stone will not be a stone.
But fingers,
fingers tips,
fingers extremities.
And also fingers bases: hands

Hands with fingers
Fingers with hands
Hands to hands
Fingers to fingers.

And the colors will mix
And the canvas will be there
And the picture will happen

Carry the stone.
Once and once carry your stone.
I will pull mine.
Once and once I will pull mine.

And the time was there.
And the time is there
And the time will be there.
Who knows where will it be?
But it will be!

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