A keresés eredménye
Találatok száma: 4
2021.03.18.
20 Years
Come, live life, love
Because the time that has passed
Won't come back
Dreams that time has erased
But for us, it remains
This song
A long time ago
You were a child
Who played on a swing
And the spinning top
You had black braids
And you chased butterflies
Like those who ran
Behind an illusion
A long time ago
I was another child
Who loved you dearly
Without knowing it
We came from school
And I offered you a flower
That you put in your hair
While smiling
Come, live life, love
Because the time that has passed
Won't come back
Dreams that time has erased
But for us, it remains
This song
Twenty years later
I met you by chance
On a city street
Where you lived
We stood still
And we looked at each other smiling
As one sees oneself
In a mirror in the morning
I gave you my phone number
I invited you to dinner
You loved seeing my
Collection
For a long time
We remained united
And we sang this song
So many times
Come, live life, love
Because the time that has passed
Won't come back
Dreams that time has erased
But for us, it remains
This song
Twenty years from now
When you're an old lady
Maybe I will no longer exist
To see you
You stay by the fireplace
Sewing your lace
But what matters
If remembering is living
A long time ago
You and I, two children
Who played on a swing
And the spinning top
We came from school
And I offered you a flower
That comes out now
In your heart
Come, live life, love
Because the time that has passed
Won't come back
Dreams that time has erased
But for us, it remains
This song
Come live life, love
Because the time that has passed
Won't come back
Dreams that time has erased
But for us, it remains
This song
2020.10.05.
Maybe see you again
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
Love, Love, oh my dear, love of my life
When will I see you again, I hope you will write to me soon
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
Love, love, oh my dear, love of my life
When you said, 'Goodbye and I'll be fine' in that last letter
So everything was suddenly over, as everything seems
Is the time now come for us to break and be more free?
To go, each going their own way?
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
Love, Love, oh my dear, love of my life
When will I see you again, I hope you will write to me soon
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
Love, Love, oh my dear, love of my life
I can still see you going, standing at the station, everything was over
You took the last train, you wanted to be free, it hurt me
But I hope to see you again, I'm not sure, but still maybe
But when, the memory calls out quickly
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
Love, Love, oh my dear, love of my life
When will I see you again, I hope you will write to me soon
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
Love, Love, oh my dear, love of my life
(Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye) Maybe see you again
(Love, love, oh my love, love of my life) Love of my life
When will I see you again, I hope you will write to me soon
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
Love, love, oh my dear, love of my life
2019.04.23.
The poet, the painter and the musician
I met a poet writer and compassionate
A free thinker avant-garde and visionary
He talked about protecting forests, oceans
The rivers and the air we do not breath anymore
He wrote with soul, with coherence, energy
The time would pass, nobody comprehended him
And free of discourse, promises, theories
Some could have called him to better define him
Free thinker, convict ecologist
A great idealist
Oh oh...
He was a poet, a painter, a pianist
His name doesn't come on the list
He was a poet, a painter, a pianist
I met a painter that painted watercolors
Created masterpieces and died with them
I met a pianist, an anarchist musician
Who composed songs that were his achievements
And played with soul, feeling and joy
The time would pass, nobody comprehended him
And free of discourse, promises, theories
Some could have called him to better define him
He gave life sounds, gave life colors, gave life joy
Oh oh...
He was a poet, a painter, a pianist
An anarchist musician
He was a poet, a painter, a pianist
His name doesn't come on the list
He was a poet, a painter, a pianist
2018.04.24.
The sound of the guitarra is the soul of a people
The sound of the guitarra is the soul of a people
That cries forth its fate in song
That lives a life on the banks of a river
And dies in the waves of the sea
And the sound of the guitarra is the soul of a people
That took to the streets in April
That discovered the world by caravel
From Angola to Timor to Brazil
O, nation of sad poets
Who fight alone, resist
Up north, down south, in Lisbon
For Zeca, Camões, and Pessoa
O, nation of lonesome poets
You pray for us in May
In a fado of Amália, crying forth
A longing to be remembered
O, my warrior nation, you never give in
And you fight for your principles
Legends, prophecies from Alcácer Quibir
There are already too many utopias
O, nation of sad poets
Who fight alone, resist
Up north, down south, in Lisbon
For Zeca, Camões, and Pessoa
O, nation of lonesome poets
You pray for us in May
In a fado of Amália, crying forth
A longing to be remembered
For the sound of the guitarra is the soul of a people
Now free and able to dream