As the wind stirs up, so does my pain get stirred up
I want to forget you, believe me
But there is always more wind
I want to forget you
but there is always more wind
Rumi
Translation:
Love is the One who masters all things;
I am mastered totally by Love.
By my passion of love for Love
I have ground sweet as sugar.
O furious Wind, I am only a straw before you;
How could I know where I will be blown next?
Whoever claims to have made a pact with Destiny
Reveals himself a liar and a fool;
What is any of us but a straw in a storm?
How could anyone make a pact with a hurricane?
God is working everywhere his massive Resurrection;
How can we pretend to act on our own?
In the hand of Love I am like a cat in a sack;
Sometimes Love hoists me into the air,
Sometimes Love flings me into the air,
Love swings me round and round His head;
I have no peace, in this world or any other.
The lovers of God have fallen in a furious river;
They have surrendered themselves to Love’s commands.
Like mill wheels they turn, day and night, day and night,
Constantly turning and turning, and crying out.
Lady of Nazareth, pray for me,
I am also a fisherman walking on the sea.
Off life’s dock in endless waves,
I’ve seen my little boat of dreams sinking perpetually.
My nets cast with confidence,
I hauled in only disappointments on a bad sea.
I lost the rudder of hope,
I can not row well.
Lady of Nazareth, pray for me.
Original:
Senhora da Nazaré, rogai por mim,
Também sou um pescador que anda no mar.
Ao largo da vida aproei nas vagas sem fim,
Vi o meu barquito de sonhos sempre a naufragar.
As minhas redes lancei com confiança,
Colhi só desilusões num mar ruim.
Perdi o leme da esperança,
Eu não sei remar assim.
Senhora da Nazaré, rogai por mim.
Translation:
This flock of seagulls
Plays on each tide
That sea of still water
that feeds my faith
The boats will come
The boats will go
This whole pier is a world
This whole pier is a world
Which I don’t wat to flee
On the edge of the pier, whoever sees me already knows me
I am like this so you won’t miss me
It is the ocean from which you will come
on the edge of the pier, I have my destiny now
Always awaiting the time when
you will return one day
Some think I am not right
But I don’t really care
I am not coming here
So that you will come back faster
But it has given me this habit
That I have not lost till today
by the sea, I believe
by the sea, I believe
That I am closer to you
Original:
Esse bando de gaivotas
Brincando em cada maré
Esse mar de água parada
Que alimenta a minha fé
Os barcos que vão chegar
Os barcos que vão partir
Todo este cais é um mundo
Todo este cais é um mundo
Donde não quero fugir
À beira do cais, quem me vê já me conhece
Sou a tal que não se esquece
Que é do mar que tu virás
À beira do cais, tenho o meu destino agora
Estou sempre à espera da hora
Em que um dia voltarás
Há quem não ache acertado
Mas a mim, pouco me interessa
Que não é por vir aqui
Que tu voltas mais depressa
Mas ficou-me este costume
Que ainda hoje não perdi
Junto ao mar, eu acredito
Junto ao mar, eu acredito
Que estou mais perto de ti
The Broken Mirror
Translation:
With his whip, the wind
Shatters the mirror of the lake.
In me more violent was
The damage
Because the wind in passing
Whispered your name
and after murmuring,
Left me.
So rapidly it passed
Not knowing it had destroyed me
The heartbreak in which I am
So fixed.
But its passing
In the glass of the lake
cutting my image
Enthralls me.
The crystal liquid
From my eyes without you,
In vain I asked the gale,
In order to break
The mirror, that mourned me
I remained with a tearless face
O my eyes without you, without you
More violent within me was
The wind.
Original:
Com o seu chicote, o vento
Quebra o espelho do lago.
Em mim foi mais violento
O estrago
Porque o vento ao passar
Murmurou o teu nome
Depois de o murmurar,
Deixou-me.
Tão rápido passou
Nem soube destruir-me
Nas magoas em que sou
Tão firme.
Mas a sua passagem
Em vidro recortava
No lago a minha imagem
De escrava.
Ò liquido cristal
Dos meus olhos sem ti,
Em vão um vendaval,
Pedi,
Para que se quebrasse
O espelho que me enluta
E me ficasse a face
Enxuta.
Ai meus olhos sem ti sem ti
Em mim foi mais violento, o vento
Perhaps one day you will tell me what you want,
Perhaps you would not want to say it anyway,
Perhaps you will pass a hand through my hair,
Perhaps you may not think of me waiting for it.
Perhaps, this being so, it would be better,
Missing our meeting by a hair,
Perhaps you will not pamper me as I want,
Perhaps we don’t know our own hearts
But I’m not certain, that you could give responses.
I live only for repeated whispers,
Of deceit of the soul and hunger of the senses.
Perhaps it’s cruel, perhaps, perhaps.
If you give nothing, then, I will give you nothing
In this to-ing and fro-ing that we keep up,
And if our real longings are contrived,
Perhaps I might not know who you are but I know who I am.
If you give nothing, then, I will give you nothing
In this to-ing and fro-ing that we keep up,
And if our real longings are contrived,
Perhaps I might not know who you are but I know who I am.
Original:
Talvez digas um dia o que me queres
Talvez não queiras afinal dizê-lo
Talvez passes a mão no meu cabelo
Talvez eu pense em ti talvez me esperes
Talvez, sendo isto assim, fosse melhor
Falhar-se o nosso encontro por um triz
Talvez não me afagasses como eu quis
Talvez não nos soubéssemos de cor
Mas não sei bem, respostas não mas dês
Vivo só de murmúrios repetidos
De enganos de alma e fome dos sentidos
Talvez seja cruel, talvez, talvez
Se nada dás, porém, nada te dou
Neste vaivém que sempre nos sustenta
E se a própria saudade nos inventa
Não sei talvez quem és mas sei quem sou
Se nada dás, porém, nada te dou
Neste vaivém que sempre nos sustenta
E se a própria saudade nos inventa
Não sei talvez quem és mas sei quem sou
Damn sheet, obey
The hands that you do not deserve
The poet’s lies
All the blackness of the strokes
Describing a thousand hugs,
Stories of an open door
Only you know, white sheet
The art of making airtight
This sap the truth
He told me stories of love
This poor pretender
He made me believe that I longed for him
And, oh sheet surrendered to
the hand which in farewell
Says goodbye without parting
Will tell everyone
That he who pretends what he really feels is
My lost poet
Original:
Folha maldita, obedeces
Às mãos que nem tu mereces
Às mentiras do poeta
Toda a negrura dos traços
Descreveram mil abraços
Histórias de uma porta aberta
Só tu sabes, folha branca
A arte de tornar estanque
Essa seiva da verdade
Contou-me histórias de amor
Esse pobre fingidor
Fez-me crer que tem saudade
E tu, oh folha rendida
À mão que na despedida
Diz adeus sem ter partido
Vai dizer a toda a gente
Que finge o que deveras sente
O meu poeta perdido
Translation:
Perhaps the same road
Is darker now,
Perhaps the sun in its lonesome wandering
Is chasing after the cold
In silence a heart
Awakens the empty house,
It doesn’t allow the illusion
To feign the pain it carried
Yet I insist upon showing
That love disappears
From a life that is waking up
From a life that is falling asleep
Perhaps the light doesn’t want
To say anything to the one who left
Perhaps in its own way
It’s saying goodbye to what it felt
Original:
Talvez o mesmo caminho
Seja agora mais sombrio,
Talvez por andar sozinho
Corre o sol atrás do frio.
Em silêncio um coração
Acorda a casa vazia,
Não permite a ilusão
Fingir a dor que trazia.
Porem insisto em mostrar
Que o amor desaparece
Numa vida a despertar
Noutra vida que adormece.
He is going to possess me
Not possess me
In some corner
It is like water flowing,
Flowing to the end,
It is so much that he wants me.
My sweetheart
My sweetheart
My home
Is where you want to live.
He is going to illuminate me
Not illuminate me
A shortcut at least.
I know that he is going to lead me
Leading softly
Along the way that I want to go.
My sweetheart
My sweetheart
My home is where you want to live.
I see my darling with his eyes And it is with my eyes That my darling sees me
My sweetheart
My sweetheart
My home
Is where you want to live.
Ele vai-me possuindo
Não me possuindo
Num canto qualquer
É como as águas fluindo
Fluindo até ao fim
É bem assim que ele me quer
Meu namorado
Meu namorado
Minha morada
É onde tu quiseres morar
Ele vai-me iluminando
Não iluminando
Um atalho sequer
Sei que ele vai-me guiando
Guiando de mansinho
Pelo caminho que eu quiser
Meu namorado
Meu namorado
É onde tu quiseres morar
Vejo meu bem com seus olhos
E é com meus olhos
Que o meu bem me vê
Meu namorado
Meu namorado
Minha morada
É onde tu quiseres morar
Ibn ‘Arabi:
Listen, O dearly beloved!
I am the reality of the world, the centre of the circumference,
I am the parts and the whole.
I am the will established between Heaven and Earth,
I have created perception in you only in order to be the
object of my perception.
If then you perceive me, you perceive yourself.
But you cannot perceive me through yourself,
It is through my eyes that you see me and see yourself,
Through your eyes you cannot see me.
Dearly beloved!
I have called you so often and you have not heard me
I have shown myself to you so often and you have not seen me.
I have made myself fragrance so often, and you have not smelled me.
Savorous food, and you have not tasted me.
Why can you not reach me through the object you touch
Or breathe me through sweet perfumes?
Why do you not see me?
Sometimes there is a voice that rises
Higher than the world and higher than us
And makes my eyes weep, when it sings
In the tears that silence my voice
It plunges my senses and time
To the farthest point of who I am
And embraces that place, so gray
That lurks beneath the mist there
And calls out in my breast when I feel
The nearness of a sad face, of a love
Higher than the world and higher than people
The voice is not a voice, it is called pain
Original:
Às vezes há una voz que se levanta
Mais alta do que o Mundo e do que nós
E faz chover-me os olhos, quando canta
Num pranto que emudece a minha voz
Afunda-me os sentidos e o tempo
Ao ponto mais distante do que sou
E abraça aquele lugar que, tão cinzento,
Se esconde sob a névoa que ficou
E grita-mo no peito quando sente
Chegar a face triste de um amor
Mais alta do que o mundo e do que a gente
A voz já não é voz chama-se dor.
Silence is never empty
When it is between you and me.
Thinking about whatever may be
All I know is I feel love
When you’re silent with me
Here we are the two of us
Holding hands inside my car
You alway console me that way
Silent, next to me
Watching as I sweep sad things away
And though you might be able to explain
What happens in the heart
Truly everything comes from nothing,
In your silent glance
There is never an empty silence
Original:
Nunca é silencio vão
Esse que tenho contigo.
Pensando nós no que for
Só sei que sinto o amor
Quando te calas comigo.
E lá ficamos os dois
De mãos dadas no meu carro.
Consolas-me sempre assim
Calado junto de mim
Vendo as tristezas que varro.
E por mais que explique bem
O que vai no coração,
É do nada que vem tudo,
Nesse teu olhar tão mudo
Nunca há silencio vão.
I said goodbye to you, I don’t remember
What day in September it was
Only that it was dawn
The street was empty
And even the moon, not wanting to intrude,
Pretended that it saw nothing
We smiled at farewell
Like people who know that life
Is just another name that death goes by
We never met again
Nor did we ask anyone
About each other
What memory or yearning
Will tell the whole truth
That we couldn’t handle then?
Whether by nostalgia or by memory
I can only tell the story
Of how much I miss you
Original:
Disse-te adeus não me lembro
Em que dia de Setembro
Só sei que era madrugada;
A rua estava deserta
E até a lua discreta
Fingiu que não deu por nada
Sorrimos à despedida
Como quem sabe que a vida
É nome que a morte tem
Nunca mais nos encontrámos
E nunca mais perguntámos
Um p’lo outro a ninguém
Que memória ou que saudade
Contará toda a verdade
Do que não fomos capazes
Por saudade ou por memória
Eu só sei contar a história
Da falta que tu me fazes
I feel jealous
Of the green waves of the sea
That insistently try to kiss
your body, as you stand before the tides.
I feel jealous
Of the wind that betrays me
Kissing you as you stand in the bow,
And runs away through the deck.
I feel jealous
Of the light of the full moon
That curls up around your body
In order to dance with you
I feel jealous
Of the waves that rise along your way
and of the mermaids that sing
That sing to charm you
Oh sailor, my love
Oh lord of my desires
Don’t let the moon at night
Steal the color from your hair
Don’t look at the stars
Because they would steal
The green of your eyes
These eyes color of the sea.
Tenho ciúmes,
Das verdes ondas do mar
Que teimam em querer beijar
teu corpo erguido às marés.
Tenho ciúmes
Do vento que me atraiçoa
Que vem beijar-te na proa
E foge pelo convés.
Tenho ciúmes
Do luar da lua cheia
Que no teu corpo se enleia
Para contigo ir bailar
Tenho ciúmes
Das ondas que se levantam
E das sereias que cantam
Que cantam p’ra te encantar.
Ó meu “amor marinheiro”
Amor dos meus anelos
Não deixes que à noite a lua
Roube a côr aos teus cabelos
Não olhes para as estrelas
Porque elas podem roubar
O verde que há nos teus olhos
Teus olhos, da côr do mar.