ValeryAvery

Ton vieux cœur d'adolescent pose-le dans mes mains et laisse-le s'ouvrir dans les histoires, les arômes morts, bells and echoes of bells and the sound of bells. You come today to tell me, you come down from the mountains of your childhood, le tablier plein de fleurs et la peur de la forêt de pins dans tes yeux. Come and love me also; you know already how much it's little to live; repos ton impuissance dans la mienne, me disant ton âge de fille, sans mots. You, like me, au retour de la côte, or des forêts, or des montagnes, face à la vie or au printemps or au bord de l'année qui se termine, you think: les choses arrivent plus vite que nos yeux ne peuvent les contempler. You, like me, au retour de la côte, or des forêts, or des montagnes, face à la vie or au printemps or au bord de l'année qui se termine, you think: les choses arrivent plus vite que nos yeux ne peuvent les contempler. You, like me, think: the things arrive faster than our eyes can contemplate them.. To dream every minute I lived, it would take him a year.. You'll have days of dead reads, like letters, having released all his nobility for the day when you appear before the Lord.. You come back in les rêvant lentement, to the ephemeres things you left barely touched; don't stay there, half hurried, like oranges. You're going to improve everything now because what was, after death, changes.. You assembled a couple of toys of memory, the light fishing boats, with the name in black letters on the green and white knot, when, in the afternoon, the high breeze-lames He receives them in his vast shadow; the seasons in the plain, the sky in the light of the sun that walks.. But now that I love you, gather your prints with mine; like children with their prints of the world, the colour of strange lands.. We will walk together in the fields in laughter without glance, of the hours past; we will speak slowly in the afternoon, moving the deep coffers.. Now that it's time, don't turn into anything, and from this little girl let's take a day to God, our hands are full.. Les deux souvenirs confondus nos hiers ne font plus qu'un, et de lui, dans un rêve commun le possédant, notre avenir unique est né The two souvenirs confused us here and now, and of him, in a dream common to him, our unique future is born. Weaving together the tissue of souvenirs we'll carry like a shroud, we'll sleep with the days of the past each day of tomorrow.. Every hour with a souvenir apparent and resonant, every image of thee among my own s'emmêler mal, tout dans une telle confusion grandit et porte ses fruits, ce qui s'est passé avec ce qui se passe, et chaque chose se déroule dans le temps; comme ton cœur, bien-aimé, ça sent les vieilles sources And without end it unfolds and spreads in sounds, in echoes and echoes, like the carillons recalled.

Don't let the day end without having grown up a little, without having been happy, without having increased your dreams.. Don't let yourself be overwhelmed by discouragement.. Ne laissez personne vous priver de votre droit de vous exprimer, which is almost a duty. Don't give up the desire to make your life something extraordinary.. Don't stop believing that the words and the poems can change the world.. No matter what our essence is intact. We are beings full of passion. Life is desert and oasis. It reverses us, it makes us sick, it teaches us, it makes us the protagonists of our own history.. Même si le vent souffle contre toi, le travail puissant continue: You can contribute with a single strophe. Never stop dreaming, because in your dreams, the man is free.. Don 't take it in the worst of mistakes.. The majority lives in a frightening silence.. Don't give up on me.. He's running away.. «J'émets mes cris sur les toits de ce monde said the poet. Appreciate the beauty of simple things. We can do the beautiful poetry of little things, but we cannot fight against ourselves.. ♪ Cell makes life hell ♪. Take advantage of the panic that cela vous provoque.. Live it intensely, without mediocrity. Think that the future is in you and face the task with pride and without fear. Learn from those who can teach you. The experiences of those who have preceded us poets dead, They help you to go through life ». Don 't let life get to you without living it..

And to those who think I've excessively celebrated the mysteries of the body, the skin and the aroma of fruit.. I'm not bothered anymore with your desire to go to the room.. A woman is fragile, light, motherly; in her eyes the veils of poverty they rise in an eternal vestal of all virtues.. A woman who enjoys is a mer agitée where only shipwreck is possible.. Keep quiet. I'm not talking about belly and humidity.. It was perhaps acceptable that you did it in your youth.. After all, at that time, there was always place for debauche.. ♪ But now, tais-toi ♪. You will have soon little children. The passions do not affect you more. dès que la viande perd sa solidité tu dois plier ton âme aller à l'église bottines en tricot et éteignez votre regard avec le décorum forced by the menopause. .I'm settling down today to write for the great priests of decency for those who, having exhausted the successive arguments, are prescribed a premature old age, to us women the sadness solitaire the early fear of rides.. Ah, gentlemen, you don't know how much pleasure hides the bodies of autumn, how much humidity, how much humus, how much glitter.

The dark swallows will return to your balcony their nests to hang, et encore avec l'aile à ses cristaux en jouant, ils appelleront. But those who want to retain your beauty and my joy of contemplation, those who have learned our names.. These... Ne reviendront pasle chèvrefeuille touffu will come from your garden the walls to climb, et encore l'après midi encore plus beau ses fleurs s'ouvriront. But those, the pebbles of rosé, whose drops we have seen tremble and fall like the tears of the day... These... Ne reviendront pasils reviendront de l'amour dans tes oreilles the words burn to resonate; your heart sort of are deep sleep maybe he will wake up. But I was so absorbed and so full of love, how much I loved you. You're going to have to think about it... They won't love you!

You stupid men who accuse the woman without reason without seeing that you are the occasion of the same thing that you blame: oui avec un empressement sans précédent tu sollicites leur dédain pourquoi veux-tu qu'ils réussissent si vous les incitez au mal vous combattez leur résistance et puis, avec gravité, You said it was the lightness of the diligence that made it so.. Apparently, he wants the courage of your appearance.. You will, with a senseless presumption, find the one you seek, for destined, the Thais, and in possession, profit.. What humor could be stranger than he who, for want of advice, embue himself to look at him and finds that it is not clear with favour and deference you have an equal condition, to complain, if they treat you badly, to mock you, if they love you well.. opinion, none ne gagne; well, he that is the most modest, if she admits you not, she is ungrateful, and if he admits you, he is light. You are always so stupid that, at an unequal level, you want someone to be cruel and another to blame easily.. Then, how must I temper him whom your love wants if he is ungrateful offense, and what is that which is easy, is that it puts you in anger between rage and chagrin to which your taste makes reference, well, it and to him who does not love you and complain at the good moment. Your lovers give you grief, and after they've done you harm, you want to find them very good.. What was the greatest fault in a bad passion: the one who falls by the prayer, or the one who prays when he is fallen, or what is the most to blame, even if someone does the wrong: the one who sins for a wage, or the one who pays for the sin, well, why did you fear guilt? What you want them to do, what you want them to do, what you want them to do.. Stop asking and then, with more reason, you accuse the fans of what I'm going to beg you.. Well, with many weapons, I found that deals with your arrogance, well, in promesse et en exemple vous réunissez le diable, la chair et le monde.

Ton amour est un univers infinini, where I lose myself and find my sense. You are the star that guides my steps, the force that pushes me to continue to embrace our bonds. In your love I discover new worlds, where dreams are deep. Every caress is a journey towards the eternal, every word is a tender murmur. You are my companion in this journey, a light that illuminates my life in the day.. Together, we build our own cosmos, where love, passion and joy reign.. In this universe of love we have created, there is no place for fear or sin.. There is only love that unites us without measure, an eternal connection that makes us free in life..

Ton amour est une mélodie que je veux toujours entendre, ses notes enveloppent me and make me dream. It is a song that I want to hear.. Each of your words is a symphony of emotions, which awaken in me the most sweet sensations.. In your eyes I find calm and passion, a refuge where I can be me without condition.. Your arms are my refuge, where I take refuge in all the dark troubles.. Your is the most beautiful verse of my poetry, the melody that illuminates every day.. Every meeting is a concert of love, where our hearts dance to the rhythm of a single song. This symphonie d'amour that nous avons créée, c'est l'héritage que nous laisserons recorded by the French rock band The Beatles. Through time, our melody will endure, like an everlasting hymn that will always resonate..

It's love. I'll have to hide or run. The walls of his prison grow, like a horrible dream.. Le beau masque a changé, mais comme toujours c'est le seul. The beautiful masque is changed, but as always it is the only one.. A quoi me serviront mes talismans: The exercise of letters, the vague erudition, the apprenticeship of the words which the rude Nord used to sing his seas and his swords, the serenity of friendship, the galleries of the library, the common things, the habits, the young love of my mother, the military shadow of my dead, the timeless night, What is it? >To be with you or not to be with you is the measure of my time. Now the crutch breaks on the fountain, now the man raises the voice of the bird, those who look out the windows are already astonished, but the shadow has not brought peace.. It's, I know, l'amour: the anxiety and the relief of hearing your voice, the expectation and the memory, the horror of living in the future.. C'est l'amour avec ses mythologies, with his useless little magic. There's a coin I dare not cross. From now on the armies are closing in, the hordes. (This piece is unreal; she hasn't seen it. The name of a woman betrays me.. Une femme me fait mal sur tout le corps is a woman who makes me sick..

No, cela ne sépare pas deux âmes aimantes case défavorable ni entêtement cruel: L'amour ne diminue jamais ni ne dévie, et c'est un et sans change à toute heure. It is not a matter of love, but of love, and it is not a matter of love.. It's a marvel that the roaring storms with the still rays defy it; star fixed that guides the ships; you measure its height, but you ignore its essence. L'amour ne suit pas le courant éphémère de l'âge, qui défait les couleurs des lèvres et des joues fleuries. L'amour does not follow the flow of the age, which defeats the colours of the lips and the flowery joys.. You are eternal, Love: if that were not my life, I did not feel your ardor, I didn't even know how to understand your wonders.

• Love exists comme un feu to burn in its beauty all the ugliness of the world
• Love exists as a gift from the good gods to those who love beauty and multiply it, like the windows and the pieces..
• Love exists comme un don seul pour those who are answered a renouncing an autre don any.
• Love exists to inhabit the world as if it were possible. The paradise that a lover lost by laziness for lack of wisdom..
• Love exists to make the clocks light up long becomes short the short becomes infinite and beauty erases the ugliness of the world.

I have already forgiven almost unforgivable mistakes.. I tried to replace irreplaceable people, and forget unforgettable people.. I've already been disappointed in people who I thought would never disappoint me, but I disappoint someone.. I've already hugged to protect, and I laughed when I couldn't, I've already made eternal friends, and friends I never saw again.. I already loved and was loved, but also, I was already rejected. I became a loved and did not know love. I already screamed and jumped with so much happiness, I already lived on love and made eternal oaths, but I also failed many times.. I already cried listening to music and seeing photos, I called only to hear a voice, I already fell in love with a smile. I already thought I would die from so much sadness and I was afraid of losing someone special (and I ended up losing it)). But I survivedand I'm still alive Don't just go through life.. And you shouldn't just pass by either... Livesit is good to go to the fight with determination, embrace life and live with passion, lose with class and win with daring, because the world belongs to those who dare, and life is too precious to consider it insignificant.

Don't let the day end without having grown a little, without having been happy, without having increased your dreams.. Don't let yourself be overcome by discouragement. Don't let anyone take away your right to express yourself, which is almost a duty.. Don't give up the desire to make your life something extraordinary. Don't stop believing that words and poems Yes they can change the world. No matter what our essence is intact. We are beings full of passion. Life is desert and oasis. It knocks us down, it hurts us, it teaches us, it makes us protagonists of our own history.. Even if the wind blows against you, the powerful work continues: you can contribute with one stanza. Never stop dreaming, because in dreams man is free. Don't fall into the worst of mistakes: the silence.. The majority lives in a scary silence.. Don't resign yourself. Flea. “I emit my screams through the roofs of this world, says the poet. Appreciates the beauty of simple things. You can make beautiful poetry about little things, but we cannot row against ourselves.. That transforms life into hell. Enjoy the panic it causes You have life ahead of you. Live it intensely, without mediocrity. Think that the future is in you and face the task with pride and without fear. From those who can teach you learn. the experiences of those before us of our dead poets, they help you walk through life today's society is us: the living poets”. Don't let life happen to you without you living it.

beyond these skies, far away from here where the sun sets at night to recharge your batteries, to fill yourself with light and be able to continue with his daily waste. There was a lonely little island that the sea with all its waters bathed breaking the rocks that covered it taking the small one, the big one remained. A flying bird was tired when he sees that island he heads there she carried a small seed in her beak if she eats it on the flight, she will drop it. She posed as always at the top where the hardest rock is usually found and when trying to eat the little seed it fell, it rolled, it got lost in the groove.. Disappointed and sad, she continued on her way. Looking for another island that was populated she was not happy about the existence of man. the most important thing, that it was planted. Nothing was known about the end of this story.. There were no records left if she could achieve it.. If there were other islands that had plants where to make its nest and be able to nest. Meanwhile on the island, the seed remained she clung firmly to the rock and germinated there the drops of salt water watered it and the raindrops that came in winter. She grew weakly, but gave off a beautiful flower. On the bare rock there was only her radiating into her surroundings her own colors: it was a world without flowers and stars abounded. Painters came to immortalize his image and also hummingbirds to sip the sweetness of it.. Later a poet created some verses for him that will tell the story of this beautiful flower.

The thick, eternal mist, so that I forget where the sea has thrown me in the wave of its brine. The land I came to has no spring: It has its long night that like a mother hides from me. the wind makes my house its round of sobs and of screaming, and breaks, like glass, my scream. And on the white plain, with infinite horizon, I watch intense painful sunsets die. Who can she call who has come here if only the dead were farther away than heronly they contemplate a quiet and frozen seagrow in your arms and beloved arms the ships whose sails whiten in the harbor they come from lands where those who are not mine are not; their clear-eyed men do not know my rivers and They bring pale fruits, without the light of my gardens.. and the question that rises to my throat as I watch them pass, I descend, defeated: they speak strange languages and are not moved language that my poor mother sings in lands of gold. I watch the snow descend like dust on the bone; I watch the fog grow like the dying, and so as not to go crazy I can't find the moments, because the long night is just beginning now.. I look at the plain in ecstasy and collect its grief, who comes to see the deadly landscapes. The snow is the face that appears through my windows: it will always be its sap coming down from the heavens, always there, silent, like the great gaze of God upon me; always its orange blossom over my house; always, like fate that neither ebbs nor passes away, it will descend to cover me, terrible and ecstatic

The definitive trip and I will go. And the birds will stay singing. and my garden will remain with its green tree, and with its white well. Every afternoon the sky will be blue and placid, and they will play, as they are playing this afternoon, the bells of the bell tower.. those who loved me will die and the town will become new every year; and far from the different, deaf, strange Sunday close hustle and bustle, of the five o'clock car, of the bathroom naps, in the secret corner of my flowery and whitewashed garden, my spirit today will wander, nostalgic.. And I will leave, and I will be another, without a home, without a tree green, without a white well, without a blue and placid sky.

Ton vieux cœur d'adolescent pose-le dans mes mains et laisse-le s'ouvrir dans les histoires, les arômes morts, bells and echoes of bells and the sound of bells. You come today to tell me, you come down from the mountains of your childhood, le tablier plein de fleurs et la peur de la forêt de pins dans tes yeux. Come and love me also; you know already how much it's little to live; repos ton impuissance dans la mienne, me disant ton âge de fille, sans mots. You, like me, au retour de la côte, or des forêts, or des montagnes, face à la vie or au printemps or au bord de l'année qui se termine, you think: les choses arrivent plus vite que nos yeux ne peuvent les contempler. You, like me, au retour de la côte, or des forêts, or des montagnes, face à la vie or au printemps or au bord de l'année qui se termine, you think: les choses arrivent plus vite que nos yeux ne peuvent les contempler. You, like me, think: the things arrive faster than our eyes can contemplate them.. To dream every minute I lived, it would take him a year.. You'll have days of dead reads, like letters, having released all his nobility for the day when you appear before the Lord.. You come back in les rêvant lentement, to the ephemeres things you left barely touched; don't stay there, half hurried, like oranges. You're going to improve everything now because what was, after death, changes.. You assembled a couple of toys of memory, the light fishing boats, with the name in black letters on the green and white knot, when, in the afternoon, the high breeze-lames He receives them in his vast shadow; the seasons in the plain, the sky in the light of the sun that walks.. But now that I love you, gather your prints with mine; like children with their prints of the world, the colour of strange lands.. We will walk together in the fields in laughter without glance, of the hours past; we will speak slowly in the afternoon, moving the deep coffers.. Now that it's time, don't turn into anything, and from this little girl let's take a day to God, our hands are full.. Les deux souvenirs confondus nos hiers ne font plus qu'un, et de lui, dans un rêve commun le possédant, notre avenir unique est né The two souvenirs confused us here and now, and of him, in a dream common to him, our unique future is born. Weaving together the tissue of souvenirs we'll carry like a shroud, we'll sleep with the days of the past each day of tomorrow.. Every hour with a souvenir apparent and resonant, every image of thee among my own s'emmêler mal, tout dans une telle confusion grandit et porte ses fruits, ce qui s'est passé avec ce qui se passe, et chaque chose se déroule dans le temps; comme ton cœur, bien-aimé, ça sent les vieilles sources And without end it unfolds and spreads in sounds, in echoes and echoes, like the carillons recalled.

• Don't let the day end without having grown up a little, without having been happy, without having increased your dreams.. Don't let yourself be overwhelmed by discouragement.. Ne laissez personne vous priver de votre droit de vous exprimer, which is almost a duty. Don't give up the desire to make your life something extraordinary.. Don't stop believing that the words and the poems can change the world.. No matter what our essence is intact. We are beings full of passion. Life is desert and oasis. It reverses us, it makes us sick, it teaches us, it makes us the protagonists of our own history.. Même si le vent souffle contre toi, le travail puissant continue: You can contribute with a single strophe. Never stop dreaming, because in your dreams, the man is free.. Don 't take it in the worst of mistakes.. The majority lives in a frightening silence.. Don't give up on me.. He's running away.. «J'émets mes cris sur les toits de ce monde said the poet. Appreciate the beauty of simple things. We can do the beautiful poetry of little things, but we cannot fight against ourselves.. ♪ Cell makes life hell ♪. Take advantage of the panic that cela vous provoque.. Live it intensely, without mediocrity. Think that the future is in you and face the task with pride and without fear. Learn from those who can teach you. The experiences of those who have preceded us poets dead, They help you to go through life ». Don 't let life get to you without living it..

• To be in love, my friends, is to find the good name for life.. It's finally finding the words to face death, it's necessary.. It's about recovering the secret key that opens the prison in which the soul is captive.. He rises from the earth with a force that claims from above.. He breathes the wide wind that is above the chair. It is to contemplate, du sommet de la personne, the raison des blessures.. It's to see a true look in the eyes that looks at us. It's to hear his own voice in a deeply repeated mouth.. It is surprising in certain hands that the chaleur du entreprise parfaite. It is suspected that, pour toujours, the solitude of our shadow is vanquished.. To be in love, to be friends, is to discover where the body and the soul meet.. It's to perceive in the desert the crystal voice of a river that calls us. c'est voir la mer depuis la tour where she was left our prisonnier d'enfance. He poses des yeux tristes on a landscape of storks and bells. He occupies a territory where the perfumes and weapons. It's to give the law to every rose and at the same time receive it from his sword.. It's confondre le sentiment avec a feu de joie that rises from the chest. It's to govern the light of fire and at the same time be the slave of the flame.. It's about understanding the conversation reflected from the heart and distance.. It's to find the way that leads to the kingdom of music without price.. To be in love, my friends, is to own the nights and the days.. It's forgetting between excited fingers the distracted head It's remembering Garcilazo when you smell the song of a forge. It's to read what the people write in space.. The first swallows, it's to see the star of the evening through the window of a peasant house.. It's like watching a train cross the mountain with the lights on.. It's perfectly understandable that there's no border between sleep and wakefulness.. It's ignoring the difference between chagrin and joy.. It's the vagabond at midnight confession of the bruine. It's to see in the darkness of the heart a little light and be in love, les amis, it's to suffer from space and time with sweetness.. It's waking up one morning with the secret of flowers and fruits.. It's to free oneself from self and be united to other creatures.. It's not a question of whether the choices are foreign or yours.. I am so sorry for your loss.. It's remonter to the source of the troubles of the torrent of anguish.. It's time to share the light of the world and at the same time it's time to share your dark night.. It's being amazed and happy that the moon is always the moon. It's to verify body and soul that the task of being a man is less difficult.. It's always to begin to say, and now you never say again.. And it's my friends, to be sure, to have clean hands..

Flamer with wavy hair raising his head in a red cloud; A tide of heat rises under your traveling lily skin. You close your eyes and see him next to you; you open your eyes and see him absent; and he decides to close them again, and surrender yourself entirely to his care. the palm of an unlimited hand trembles over your extended breasts, and a tree with a trembling root within you spreads the bower of it. in the belly, in the arms, in the neck, an awakening of succulent fruits unleashes the hunger of feelings, in a confusing and erotic rush. his mouth is dry, choked with moans, he is unable to pronounce her name; he has neither voice nor face, he is just a man, just a shadow in a forbidden pleasure. How you break down from desire, alone, without receiving help; offering of a woman, all naked, solitary juliet, without romeo.

Can you kiss me more? We're so young, boy We ain't got nothin' to lose, oh, oh It's just principle Baby, hold me 'Cause I like the way you groove, oh, oh Boy, you write your name, I can do the same Oh, I love the taste, All on my tongue, I want it Boy, you write you name, I can do the same Oh, I love the taste, All on my tongue, I want it Say give me a buck, need that gushy stuff Push your limit, no, you ain't good enough All your niggas say that you lost without me All my bitches feel like I dodged the county Fuckin' with you feel like jail, nigga I can't even exhale, nigga Pussy like Holy Grail, you know that You gon' make me need bail, you know that Caught dreepin' with your friend You ain't even half man, lyin' on ya—, you know that Got me a bag for the break, you know that Control don't slow the pace, if I pull back All this ass for real (ahh) Drama make you feel (ahh) Fantasy and whip appeal Is all I can give you.

I've spent the evening in your thoughts, I've sighed in your memory, I've dined with your pictures hanging around my table, I've showered with my restless hormones; I looked at the stars under my roof and your desire hunted down my bed I looked for you under my sheets, I sank desperately, my face in my pillow, I slept thinking of you and had three dreams: The first was when we met, the second was with your body, and the third with burning moments; my body woke up wet from desire, I woke up to the sound of palpitations increased like explosions, it was my own heart changed by your passion, and between my restless breathing I cried out your name, yes.. I am this man.

"steps of a pilgrim are, wandering, how many verses sweet muse dictated to me in confused solitude, some lost, others inspired". Or you who are prevented from spears Fir walls, diamond battlements, You beat the mountains armed with snow The sky fears crystal giants, Where the horn, of repeated echo, Fieras exposes you, that to the dyed ground, Dead, asking for warp terms Sparkling coral gives the Tormes!: He brings the frexno closer to a frexno, whose steel, Blood sweating, time will be short Purple the snow; And, as soon as the solicitous hunter gives, To the hard oak, to the raised pine Living emulators of the clubs The formidable signs Of the bear that he still kissed, pierced, The shaft of your shining javelin, Or the sacred supply of the oak The Augustus of the canopy, or of the fountain The high border, the majestic From the place to your Deity due, O enlightened Duke! Temper your burning fatigue in its waves, And, your limbs given to rest On the grass grass, not naked, Give yourself a while to find the right foot That the wandering steps of him have voted To the royal chain of your shield. soft, generous knot, liberty, of fortune pursued; that, to your mercy euterpe grateful, her song will give a sweet instrument, when fame does not blow its horn.

I spent the evening in your thoughts, I sighed in your memory, I dined with your paintings hanging on my table, I showered with the hormones stirring; I looked at the stars under my roof and your desire lurked in my bed I looked for you under my sheets, I buried myself desperately, my face in my pillow, I slept thinking I dreamed three dreams. The first one was when we met.. , The second was with your body, and the third was with burning moments; my body rose wet with desire, I woke up to the sound of pulsations heightened like explosions, it was my own heart changed by your passion, and in my agitated breath I cried out your name, yes.. I'm that man.♥