Into the class (connato de poesía)

Felipe Antonio Santorelli · 24-jul-2007, 03:43

Este es un intento de hacer poesía en la lengua de los anglos, piedad...

This is a pencil, that is a pen.
This is a table, that is a desk.
This is my heart, that is my dream.
This is my soul, that was my scream.

That is my teacher, this is my bag,
that is my hope, that was my cry.
Here in the classroom, I'm on the sky
I'm far far away from this awful path.

This is my book, ¡that was my thought!
this is my notebook, that was my poetry,
this is my fault, that is your pain
too far already from my big mouth,
too near yet, near to my brain.

So,
let us move away
let's be really free
riding a splendid horse over cottoned clouds,
let's escape from sadness
by travelling through hope
just you and me, only you and me;
over the other side of the moon.

Because home is just that place
where your heart wishes to be.

Pardon me Shakespeare, Whitman, Frost, Poe, and all English poets,
for destroing your beautiful language.

27-jul-2007, 11:41

Cita:

Originalmente Escrito por Felipe Antonio Santorelli

Este es un intento de hacer poesía en la lengua de los anglos, piedad...

This is a pencil, that is a pen.
This is a table, that is a desk.
This is my heart, that is my dream.
This is my soul, that was my scream.

That is my teacher, this is my bag,
that is my hope, that was my cry.
Here in the classroom, I'm on the sky
I'm far far away from this awful path.

This is my book, ¡that was my thought!
this is my notebook, that was my poetry,
this is my fault, that is your pain
too far already from my big mouth,
too near yet, near to my brain.

So,
let us move away
let's be really free
riding a splendid horse over cottoned clouds,
let's escape from sadness
by travelling through hope
just you and me, only you and me;
over the other side of the moon.

Because home is just that place
where your heart wishes to be.

Pardon me Shakespeare, Whitman, Frost, Poe, and all English poets,
for destroing your beautiful language.

No estas destruyendo nada y no tienes que disculparte, la poesia es eso, un intento y un sueño convertido en palabras y siempre es mejor un escrito abierto y entregado que uno perdido en el intento, despues de todo la práctica hace al maestro.
Un abrazo.

Felipe Antonio Santorelli · 27-jul-2007, 07:44

Thank you my good friend.
Hugs.

30-jul-2007, 11:27

You are great in every poem, your poetry it's just a song in every language...it's a placer to read your feelings....

a big hug to this wonderful poet

Doña Myriam · 31-jul-2007, 08:46

A ver creo que entendí en la primera parte que tu maestra de la que estabas enamorado te encontró una libreta en la que hablabas de amor, de ti, tal vez de ella... un sueño, etc.
En la segunda como que ya te la quieres llevar fuera del salón de clases... allá al mundo de los sueños y los orgasmos... tal vez...
Será que entendí algo? poquito?

osis · 31-jul-2007, 09:28

Beautiful poem, in which it is possible to be noticed, that your English goes being quite good. It follows thus, and you obtained it in a moment. A kiss for you.

Felipe Antonio Santorelli · 31-jul-2007, 11:38

Thanks to you my wonderful lady, it is my very pleasure to have you within my poetry (if i call it this way)
Kisses.

Felipe Antonio Santorelli · 31-jul-2007, 11:40

Jajajaja, buena interpretacion, me encantan los poetas que interpretan la poesia dandoles un nuevo encanto.
Mis besos amelcochados.

Felipe Antonio Santorelli · 31-jul-2007, 11:43

You know, English is not my best language, but I try, and I am very, very happy that you like it,
my best strawberry kisses for you.