Monday, August 18, 2008


A bird's flight in the sky is not just showing off
It's a genuine expression of its mood.
When flying, dancing or singing every strophe
Is its natural substance understood.
There may be many ways of bursting out,
A reflex manifesting what is felt;
Some may cry, become desperate or shout,
Therefore, by means of art is how I melt.
Everyone has to do what he's meant for,
That is why when I play or when I write
Everything is enacted from my core,
Not just an ordinary show of might.
As my mouth can't reveal my inner soul
At least allow my fingers to do so.

Metre: Italian hendecasyllable

© copyrighted in the National Library,Brazil

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