Mind is running, but my body wants rest
Million thoughts running through my brain
Full speed freight train
Adagio for strings streaming in the background
My purpose for life has yet to be found
Thinking of life's pain that brought me to the ground
He lifted me up to see the light
My, what a wonderful delight
People come and people go
Without a cry, laughter could never play it's position
Without sadness, happiness could never be a transition
I've come to terms, that it's okay I'm misunderstood
Because the intentions in my heart are pure and good
Beautiful deeds
Faithful prayers
Character of layers
A soul full of courage
A heart full of belief
On a journey to accomplish what I'm suppose to be
Round and round I go
Where I stop, I don't even know
I will not give up
I will not give up the fight
I will train and keep going day and night
I shall close my eyes
Let the sounds of life soothe my soul
Whatever happened in the past, shall be let go
As I move on to a new day of life
I will worship my creator
Whom created it all
For the good and the bad
All that I've ever had
I give thanks and take it all in stride
For I now know, it will all be all right
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ReplyDeleteIn the sky there is nobody asleep. Nobody, nobody. Nobody is asleep.
ReplyDeleteThe creatures of the moon sniff and prowl about their cabins.
The living iguanas will come and bite the men who do not dream,
and the man who rushes out with his spirit broken will meet on the street corner
the unbelievable alligator quiet beneath the tender protest of the stars.
Nobody is asleep on earth. Nobody, nobody.
Nobody is asleep.
In a graveyard far off there is a corpse
who has moaned for three years because of a dry countryside on his knee;
and that boy they buried this morning cried so much it was necessary to call out the dogs to keep him quiet.
Life is not a dream. Careful! Careful! Careful!
We fall down the stairs in order to eat the moist earth or we climb to the knife edge of the snow with the voices of the dead
dahlias.
But forgetfulness does not exist, dreams do not exist; flesh exists. Kisses tie our mouths
in a thicket of new veins, and whoever his pain pains will feel that pain forever
and whoever is afraid of death will carry it on his shoulders.
One day the horses will live in the saloons
and the enraged ants will throw themselves on the yellow skies that take refuge in the
eyes of cows.
Another day we will watch the preserved butterflies rise from the dead
and still walking through a country of gray sponges and silent boats
we will watch our ring flash and roses spring from our tongue.
Careful! Be careful! Be careful!
The men who still have marks of the claw and the thunderstorm,and that boy who cries because he has never heard of the invention
of the bridge, or that dead man who possesses now only his head and a shoe, we must carry them to the wall where the iguanas and the snakes are waiting, where the bear's teeth are waiting, where the mummified hand of the boy is waiting, and the hair of the camel stands on end with a violent blue shudder.
Nobody is sleeping in the sky. Nobody, nobody.
Nobody is sleeping.
If someone does close his eyes,
a whip, boys, a whip!
Let there be a landscape of open eyes
and bitter wounds on fire.
No one is sleeping in this world. No one, no one. I have said it before.
No one is sleeping.
But if someone grows too much moss on his temples during the night, open the stage trapdoors so he can see in the moonlight
the lying goblets, and the poison, and the skull of the theaters.
CITY THAT DOES NOT SLEEP
F. Garcia Lorca