sexta-feira, 28 de dezembro de 2012



Imperfect synchronicity, divine gear.

Without modesty, with leftover love

Written words, spoken for life.

Feeling all your energy

Sensualíssima symphony

Dance, poetry and charm.

Its curves, guidelines,

For sin, for joy.

For living, for life.

Pablo Danielli

Golden Fool

Golden Fool

I wish to know

That fool's gold,

It was not made ​​for us.

Knowing that tomorrow

There will back

And our life will be like an old film

On the overhead projector,

In a corner of a movie any.

Under boos and cheers from the crowd,

From an empty stage.

Done loose phrases of an old book,

Yellow, stored,

In the dust of the TV stand.

Chosen for you

To make an impact,

To change the situation.

Done illusion

Circus show,

Saved to us.

As wax dolls

Hidden world,

Trying to live.

Pablo Danielli

quinta-feira, 27 de dezembro de 2012

Of nature (human?). , Der Natur (Mensch?).

Of nature (human?).



Unrealistic, irrational,



Tumbled, cut,

Shaped dick!

Sheet, the earth.

The tear

That drops,

The face of the sky,

Hope caste!

The raw truth

Green, lo! Resist!

Even immolated,

Delivered with gift

In the eyes of unbelievers.

The animal life, vegetation,

Even having as sina

The human being lives!

Pablo Danielli

Der Natur (Mensch?).

Unrealistische, irrational,
Trommelsteine​​, schneiden,
Shaped dick!
Sheet, die Erde.
die Träne
Daß abfällt,
Das Gesicht des Himmels,
Hoffe Kaste!
The Raw Truth
Grün, lo! Widerstehen!
Selbst geopfert,
Geliefert mit Geschenk
In den Augen der Ungläubigen.
Das Tierleben, Vegetation,
Selbst die als sina
Der Mensch lebt!

Pablo Danielli

quarta-feira, 26 de dezembro de 2012

To run where the tears, of joy in soils.

To run where the tears, of joy in soils.

The sound of rain falling was the only reminder of a gray afternoon that united us, the sound of silence were the words that made us feel so close. Just sitting side by side on a couch cold, watching the drops run by leaves almost dead, a drought that insisted on staying.
And so, together we understood so far, nothing but memories of something that never was, was more than enough to fill the sun that day, had promised to leave and not come out, like something stuck in my throat, trying to break the sync and many barely spoken lies, which sometimes saved some of our lives.
Our souls are facing into an abyss that we allowed to jump and die, often the same day that the cross our eyes, climbed again and again, again and again. Repeating what has never been done, babbling sounds that we did not know and did not hear because of the falling droplet on earth stifled any attempt to approach, a couch that's so small, most seemed to be in a desert of emotions.
Everything seemed much more explained that, as a tragic poem of one stanza only, where the beginning and end is meaningless, as is the feeling of the poet who wrote it, who killed writes about love, who left to let him live. Leaving the dream to live the real space split by two people no longer dream, when silence becomes real.
Only memories remain, in footnotes, where they stood out in bold the phrase "moments of joy", almost muffled by sheets and blank pages, something that still waits to be written. The happily ever after was perhaps for another book, or another story, latest, new, for a new beginning or a sad ending, where we discover that what we feel and swear at the end is deadly.
But all around there being what it was, when we look and listen to the rain wet, as we share our silence and our intimacy on a piece of the world, sitting in an empty couch.

Pablo Danielli

Para aonde as lagrimas correm, em solos de alegria.

O barulho da chuva caindo era a única lembrança de uma tarde cinza que nos unia, o som do silêncio eram as palavras que faziam nos sentir tão próximos. Apenas sentados, lado a lado em um sofá frio, observando as gotas correrem pelas folhas quase mortas, de uma seca que insistia em ficar.

E assim, juntos tão distantes nos entendíamos, nada além das lembranças de algo que nunca foi, era mais que suficiente para preencher o sol que naquele dia, havia prometido sair e não saiu, assim como alguma coisa presa na garganta, que tentava quebrar a sincronia de muitas e mal ditas mentiras, que por vezes salvaram um pouco de nossas vidas.

Nossas almas se enfrentavam em um abismo que permitíamos pular e morrer, muitas vezes no mesmo dia, que ao cruzar nossos olhos, escalávamos, novamente e outra vez, outra vez e outra vez. Repetindo o que nunca foi feito, balbuciando sons que não conhecíamos e que não ouvíamos, pois o cair da gota na terra abafava qualquer tentativa de aproximação, um sofá que de tão pequeno, nos parecia mais ser um deserto de emoções.

Tudo parecia muito mais que explicado, como um poema trágico de uma estrofe só, aonde o inicio e fim não tem sentido, assim como o sentimento do poeta que o escreveu, que morto escreve sobre o amor, que partiu para deixá-lo viver. Saindo do sonho para viver o real, um espaço dividido por duas pessoas deixa de ser sonho, quando o silêncio se torna real.

Somente as lembranças ficaram, em notas de rodapé, aonde destacavam-se em negrito a frase “momentos de alegria”, praticamente abafado por folhas e paginas em branco, de algo que ainda espera para se escrever. O felizes para sempre talvez tenha ficado para outro livro, ou outra história, mais recente, nova, para um novo começo ou um triste final, aonde descobrimos que o que sentimos e juramos no final é mortal.

Mas tudo volta há ser o que era, quando nos olhamos e ouvimos a chuva molhar, enquanto compartilhamos nosso silêncio e nossa intimidade em um pedaço do mundo, sentados no vazio de um sofá.

Pablo Danielli

quarta-feira, 19 de dezembro de 2012

What is this friend?

What is this friend?

I see no reason

It makes no sense!

Suffering in anticipation,

Wanting to die of grief.

Leave aside this fashion,

Accepted that it is all nonsense,

Fashion homemade utopia of little people.

Follow the road, define your destiny,

Do not let yourself feel diminished,

The comments are nothing more than small buzzing

In our fragile ears.

Do not worry baby, it's pure jealousy,

Intrigue and dissatisfaction,

Azar theirs who do not know,

Not imagine what living with heart.

Pablo Danielli

O que sabem? they know

What these people know,
What do you do?

they know
What do they feel?

Imagine what is real?
They think they live?
Or just spend their days
Simply pretend to know.

filling gaps
With false desires
Trying not be

Pablo Danielli


Que esse povo sabe,

O que faz?


Que sabem

O que sentem?

Imaginam o que é real?

Eles pensam que vivem?

Ou apenas passam os dias

Simplesmente fingem saber.

Preenchendo lacunas

Com falsos desejos

Tentando não serem


Pablo Danielli

segunda-feira, 17 de dezembro de 2012

Screen Caspar David Friedrich - Tree of Crows, 1822

Tela de Caspar David Friedrich - Árvore dos Corvos, 1822

sexta-feira, 14 de dezembro de 2012

Absurdities, Absurditäten


Silence absurd

Penetrates like a knife

In solitude!


Their certainties,

Expounding on the table

His restlessness.

The falling rain

The drip from your faucet

Break the vacuum,


With the fury annoying

Hours of walking.

a mirror

That the despised,

Leftover wine

On a scratched glass.


Of doubt,


Close your eyes

Open mind

Life punching bag,

There are those who pretend to hold on.

tragic end


In another being,

As so many people.

The light that shines

It's just a reflex,

From the darkness that makes

As this.

Pablo Danielli


Schweigen absurd
Dringt wie ein Messer
In der Einsamkeit!
Ihre Gewissheiten,
Darlegung auf dem Tisch
Seine Unruhe.
Die fallende regen
Die Tropf aus Ihrem Wasserhahn
Brechen Sie das Vakuum,
Mit der Wut ärgerlich
Stunden zu Fuß.
Ein Spiegel
Dass die verachtet,
Leftover Wein
Auf einer zerkratzten Glas.
Schließen Sie Ihre Augen
Leben Boxsack,
Es gibt diejenigen, die auf Halten vorgeben.
Das tragische Ende
In einem anderen Wesen,
Wie so viele Menschen.
Das Licht, das glänzt
Es ist nur ein Reflex,
Aus dem Dunkel, das macht
Da dies.

Pablo Danielli

quarta-feira, 12 de dezembro de 2012

segunda-feira, 10 de dezembro de 2012

Desejo comum, Common desire

Common desire

Desolate heart
Mutilated by society,
Insane hopes to cultivate!
Pain that exudes through your sad eyes.
Only one more moment
Of anguish, pain, death,
Caminhas without knowing why?
Living without knowing it!
Afraid to speak, afraid to listen, afraid to look,
Fear only to be noticed
With another, it is common!
Loser for not having the smile
Loser for not looking at the navel.
Reveal your desires to the world
Exposes your weakness before the inevitable
Common destiny!
Being more than a shadow
Being present and not absent,
Being people, instead of indigent!

 Pablo Danielli

Desejo comum

Desolado coração

Mutilado pela sociedade,

Insano por cultivar esperanças!

Dor que exala pelos teus tristes olhos.

Somente mais um momento

De angustia, dor, de morte,

Caminhas sem saber o por quê?

Viver sem saber para que!

Medo de falar, medo de ouvir, medo de olhar,

Medo apenas de ser notado

Com mais um, ser comum!

Fracassado por não ter o sorriso

Perdedor por não olhar o próprio umbigo.

Revela teus desejos ao mundo

Expõe tua fraqueza diante do inevitável,

Destino comum!

Ser mais que uma sombra

Estar presente e não ausente,

Ser gente, ao invés de indigente!

Pablo Danielli

quinta-feira, 6 de dezembro de 2012

Chance, oportunidad

strange invisible
As time passes,
Without notice.
daily forgotten
In his memoirs,
Neglected so despicable.
Acute pendulum of indifference
What ever the whole round,
Just to delight
Death to chance
The chance for the faceless,
The chaos for those who have never had
Stories, or old addresses.
The order for hypocrisy
Just as unhappiness
For those already
You have no life.

Pablo Danielli


Strange Invisible
A medida que pasa el tiempo,
Sin previo aviso.
Daily olvidado
En sus memorias,
Olvidadas tan despreciable.
Péndulo aguda de la indiferencia
Lo que alguna vez toda la ronda,
Sólo para deleitar
Muerte al azar
La oportunidad para los sin rostro,
El caos para aquellos que nunca han tenido
Reportajes, o direcciones antiguas.
El orden para la hipocresía
Así como infelicidad
Para aquellos que ya
Usted no tiene la vida.

Pablo Danielli

terça-feira, 4 de dezembro de 2012

Feira do livro! Book Fair

Amanha, Tomorrow


This unhappy again
Conformed to his passivity,
Waiting fall from sky
Replies impossible.
For questions ever made
For wills ever had,
To dreams that never made​​!
Lost in his footsteps
Feeling empty space with both,
Wearing his invisibility cloak
Abhors the brightness inside,
Stifles his feelings for nothing.
Only one shadow
Only a wry smile,
A look at the lost horizon.
The reality check
For him yet and unfortunately
Do not come!


Esta novamente infeliz

Conformado com sua passividade,

Esperando cair do céu

Respostas impossíveis.

Para perguntas que nunca fez

Para vontades que nunca teve,

Para sonhos que nunca realizou!

Perdido em seus passos

Se sentindo vazio com tanto espaço,

Vestindo sua capa de invisibilidade

Abomina o brilho dentro de si,

Sufoca os seus sentimentos à toa.

Apenas uma sombra

Somente um sorriso torto,

Um olhar perdido no horizonte.

O choque de realidade

Para ele ainda e infelizmente,

Não chegou!

Pablo Danielli

segunda-feira, 3 de dezembro de 2012

Espirito natalino / Christmas spirit

Christmas spirit

The desire
Superficial in windows
Children dropped,
Small gifts shattered
In wide and empty sidewalks.
Music and soft words
Fake spirit of peace,
With expiration date stamped!
smiles disguised
By contempt.
Among other a hug and
Dusting the strange
Bold traveling!
For better or for worse
It's Christmas!

Pablo Danielli

Espirito natalino

O desejo

Superficial nas vitrines

Crianças largadas,

Pequenos presentes despedaçados

Em largas e vazias calçadas.

Musicas e palavras suaves

Falso espirito de paz,


Com prazo de validade estampado!

Sorrisos disfarçados

Pelo desprezo.

Entre um abraço e outro

Tirar o pó do estranho,

Ousado itinerante!

Para o bem ou para o mal

Mais uma vez

É natal!

Pablo Danielli

sexta-feira, 30 de novembro de 2012

Love overcomes all

Love overcomes all

Like two lovers,

We walked the streets, between the city walls defaced,

Contemplating all inequality,

With the sky and witness the tears of our love.

Through the dark alleys, notorious,

Homeless and hungry, observe

The pride, fulness of our love.

The stench of the gutters,

This no longer disturbs us most,

And so we walk through broken squares,

Poorly lit and deserted.

We contemplate the beauty of being different,

In a universe equal.

And potholed sidewalks, we reached our final destination,

For we love the sound of bullets crossed,

In my apartment twenty meters frames,

Distributed between living room and bedroom,

On the outskirts of town.

Pablo Danielli

Sun Spring

We all have a spring sunshine in your life, the basic difference is that some hotter than others, sometimes we feel safer or more nostalgic receiving light from the sun.

Among the Romantics maybe there is another season that set as well as the meaning of love this season because it is where nature flourishes to toast our eyes to the beauty of the world, where we feel we can be more human than we are and so generally, gradually without realizing it, open our hearts and stay at the mercy of a beam of light that can bring us warmth and life into our everyday life.

Everyone wants to have one day a life touched by this light and every woman wants to be heated in its days of greatest heat for his loneliness. It is much more than a feeling, it is a variable and fickle change, to which all are sooner or later ready to live.

And what delights would be if everyone could have this spring sun touching their hearts and warming their souls, like a beautiful sunrise or a beautiful afternoon, where their happiness, not only is the song of birds, but also in the brightness of the gaze one who knows that found its sun, its source of positive energy and love, as well as vital as water need love to live.

The heart always shows us clearly about what it is to live with a spring sun today, this inspiration can have various sizes, can have many colors, but usually gives us the same feeling, joy and love. So simple gesture can change anyone, gets to go unnoticed in the course of days and fly in the second, it is not always that we understand the delicacy of that time, those who feel lucky, happy those who take advantage.

Pablo Danielli

quinta-feira, 22 de novembro de 2012

To be both

To be both

In many certainties

Streets are empty of doubt.

With pride

Hearts are empty of forgiveness.

So much greed

The city is poor in spirit.

In both individualism

The bars are full of loneliness.

In both want

The world is full of poor people.

In both suffer

All die, because we are missing.

Pablo Danielli

quarta-feira, 21 de novembro de 2012

Bend your knees

Bend your knees

One more piece

The rest of our humanity

Deserted streets.

Another sigh, a tear,

Falling without anyone knowing

The world seems so far away,

Faced with eyes that never

The felt so real.

Another day, just another night

For those passes without being seen,

The knee bends only

To join what is dropped,

What takes its place

Continues to fill its space.

The burden is heavy for more

To resolve an affluent society,

Faced with such indifference

It soon becomes lost among men and beings around.

The mind is a little more to absorb the knowledge,

And why not have the necessary humility to learn

Many continue to die.

Pablo Danielli

terça-feira, 20 de novembro de 2012

The aisles, Pelos corredores

With so many lives exposed
Gambling, to learn,
What's the first falling.
With so plenty of vanity
Cracked Mirrors,
By half-truths
Hide lies,
The aisles.
Bocas delusional
In search of tranquilizers,
To escape from anything
Purporting to be a pain.
Abstract Figures in picture frames
Something related to the past,
A future that someday
Ever wished.

Pablo Danielli

Pelos corredores

Com tantas vidas expostas

Apostas, para saber,

Qual a primeira que cai.

Com tanta sobra de vaidade

Espelhos trincados,

Por meias verdades

Escondem mentiras,

Pelos corredores.

Bocas delirantes

Em busca de calmantes,

Para fugir de qualquer coisa

Que se apresente como a dor.

Figuras abstratas em porta retratos

Algo relacionado ao passado,

Um futuro que em algum dia

Já se desejou.

Pablo Danielli

Imagine the pantry

Imagine the pantry

Imagine hospitals
The posts healths,
Queues service!
Imagine the dead in traffic
The lack of honesty of politicians
The money going to the drains!
Imagine assaults
Insecurity, closed signs,
Imagine death lurking!
The lack of structure
The lack of investment in education,
The divestment of a nation!
Imagine now a phrase
Imagine a staff,
Capable of being a laughingstock!
Now imagine all this
In the Cup!

Pablo Danielli

Imagina na copa

Imagina os hospitais

Os postos de saúdes,

As filas de atendimento!

Imagina os mortos no transito

A falta de honestidade dos políticos,

O dinheiro indo pelos ralos!

Imagina os assaltos

A insegurança, os sinais fechados,

Imagine a morte a espreita!

A falta de estrutura

A falta de investimento na educação,

A alienação de uma nação!

Imagine agora uma frase

Imagine um bordão,

Capaz de ser motivo de chacota!

Agora imagine tudo isso

Na copa!

Pablo Danielli

quarta-feira, 14 de novembro de 2012

Bendito o livro

Uma salva de palmas

Para o livro que geme,

O que fala e o que viaja,

O livro que te faz sonhar!

Sorte da pessoa e do ser

Que se deixar, por ele encontrar,

Iluminar por suas paginas.

Preencher sua mente

Com palavras, sabedoria!

Deixar de ser mais um na multidão

Para poder viver, mesmo que por instantes,

No mundo da imaginação.

Pablo Danielli

quinta-feira, 8 de novembro de 2012



The gulf that exists between the smile and the tear

It is so tenuous as to the silk that covers your body.

The light will not let me see and sometimes blind

Enough to confuse me with your brilliance,

While not light my way tonight.

Still, my mind wanders,

In the mysteries of darkness.

Pablo Danielli


Die Kluft, die zwischen dem Lächeln und dem Riss vorhanden ist
Es ist so dünn wie die Seide, die Ihren Körper bedeckt.
Das Licht wird nicht zulassen, mich zu sehen und manchmal blind
Genug, um mir mit eurem Leuchten zu verwirren,
Während leuchtet nicht mein Weg heute Abend.
Dennoch wandert mein Geist,
In die Geheimnisse der Finsternis.

Pablo Danielli

More machine than man, Mehr Maschine als Mensch

More machine than man

Sleep Awake

From your ignorance,

Untie such we

That bind you so much futility.

Let your mind be free

Not only the body but the soul

Let her be a whole imagination, intelligence.

So not suffer fleeting beauty

So do not take down the evil of consumerism,

So give value to ideas and books

And with a little luck you will be more man than machine.

Pablo Danielli

Mehr Maschine als Mensch

Schlaf Awake
Von Ihrer Unwissenheit,
Bindet wie wir
Das bindet Sie so viel Sinnlosigkeit.
Lassen Sie Ihren Geist frei sein
Nicht nur der Körper, sondern die Seele
Lassen Sie sie eine ganze Vorstellungskraft, Intelligenz sein.
So nicht leiden vergängliche Schönheit
So nehmen Sie nicht den bösen des Konsums,
So geben Wert, um Ideen und Bücher
Und mit ein wenig Glück werden Sie mehr Mann als Maschine.

Pablo Danielli

Más máquina que hombre

Sueño Despierto
A partir de su ignorancia,
Desata tal,
Que te atan futilidad tanto.
Deje que su mente esté libre
No sólo el cuerpo sino el alma
¡Que sea una imaginación toda inteligencia,.
Así que no sufren belleza fugaz
Así que no acabar con el mal del consumismo,
Así que dar valor a las ideas y los libros
Y con un poco de suerte será más hombre que el de la máquina.

Pablo Danielli


quarta-feira, 7 de novembro de 2012

The political trickster

The political trickster is in Brazil, cut spending before the election, the government lowers prices, tax burden, now last election returned to normal, worse! Are further increasing the taxes for the people! It's ridiculous the way that politics is done in this country is ridiculous to hear that politicians do not have any instructions above command the machine public money, so they are trying to manipulate the media, and rebuke the people! lack little to turn dictatorship again!

Pablo Danielli

Die politische Trickster ist in Brasilien, Senkung der Staatsausgaben vor der Wahl, senkt die Regierung die Preise, Steuerbelastung, jetzt letzten Wahl wieder normal, schlimmer! Sind eine weitere Erhöhung der Steuern für die Menschen! Es ist lächerlich, die Art und Weise, dass die Politik in diesem Land geschehen ist, ist lächerlich, zu hören, dass die Politiker haben noch keine Hinweise obigen Befehl die Maschine öffentlichen Geldern, so dass sie versuchen, die Medien zu manipulieren und strafe die Leute! fehlt wenig, um die Diktatur wieder einzuschalten!

Pablo Danielli

El embaucador político está en Brasil, recortar el gasto antes de las elecciones, el gobierno reduce los precios, la carga tributaria, ahora las últimas elecciones volvió a empeorar normal! ¿Está aumentando aún más los impuestos para el pueblo! Es ridículo la forma en que la política se hace en este país es ridículo escuchar que los políticos no tienen ninguna instrucción sobre el comando de la máquina de dinero público, por lo que están tratando de manipular a los medios de comunicación, y reprenderá a la gente! falta poco para encender de nuevo la dictadura!

Pablo Danielli

The identity of a country

The identity of a country

Brazil is a country lagged culturally, we live only last a short past, today we are a cluster without any artistic expression. A country with such dimensions and so many people just should not be the breadbasket of the world's food, but also be a storehouse of ideas for all, we breathe art and culture, the streets would be full of events and people showing their talents.

Although we have some prominent artists and when I say this I do not mean the music, what is missing is to recognize and hone new talent and this leads us to the teaching, that through no fault of the teachers that are there, operating daily minor miracles with what little has on hand. Yes, the lack of structure of our schools, the lack of real investment in education, we have adopted the full teaching two shifts of classes not only basic, but insert beyond the programmed contents, arts classes, philosophy, sociology, among many other cultural and sporting activities to mold the character of students, preparing for life makes them better citizens.

The duty of a ruler is to fight for the people who elected him to be free to think, speak and act, not be dependent on one or two people, thinking beings must develop and pedantic. But although theories and arguments presented for such facts, everything goes through school, elementary school to higher education should think not as something highly lucrável, but as an opportunity to create new talent, shaping a strong identity for Brazil.

And all this neglect reflects on our present, and will interfere in our future, it can not be surprising if the success of products considered absolutely banal because it is creating a society extremely banal, in order to act, think and speak.

I put a challenge to the mind, in a fast, memory fetch as many artists, painters, writers, choreographers, among many other art forms, culture readily we can remember, I am not referring to the consecrated decades ago, but the days.

We are a nation without culture, people are not programmed to develop thoughts and not seek to engage with such clever ways of life. The few that stand out today, should be proclaimed heroes of the resistance, as live art these days at least in this country called Brazil is an act of bravery, hope and dedication. While our leaders in teimem say no.

Pablo Danielli

Sonnet illusion.

Sonnet illusion.

If this is still it's any consolation

Brazil is a country that less bosal,

Since there are so many marginal

Scattered throughout our country, made ​​of carnivals.

This at least is what the newspapers say.

Our politicians with advertisements,

Deceive the people like everything,

A great program for the weekend.

And we're always walking a tightrope,

Be in the usual robbery,

Or just the threats routine

But yes we are, the more "normal".

Perhaps for this reason, there are no more protests

For this all alone in our Congress,

There are no more dishonest politicians,

He is at peace, our soul of country of samba.

Pablo Danielli

Soneto ilusión.

Si esto es aún te sirve de consuelo
Brasil es un país que menos bozal,
Puesto que hay tantos marginal
Diseminados por todo nuestro país, hecho de carnavales.

Esto al menos es lo que dicen los periódicos.
Nuestros políticos con anuncios,
Engañar a la gente le gusta todo,
Un gran programa para el fin de semana.

Y estamos siempre en la cuerda floja,
Estar en el robo de costumbre,
¿O sólo la amenaza de rutina
Pero sí somos, más "normal".

Quizás por esta razón, hay protestas no más
Sólo por esto todos en nuestro Congreso,
No hay más políticos deshonestos,
Él está en paz, el alma del país de la samba.

Pablo Danielli



In winter you embrace, you warm up,

In the summer I walk away, you wag at most,

In autumn walk in the park

And in the spring take care of our garden

To live power stations in a love without end.

Pablo Danielli

The loneliness suddenly caught, La soledad de repente atrapado

The loneliness suddenly caught

Loneliness caught suddenly

Surprised by always having friends,

But out of nowhere, she found herself alone.

He lacked a piece,

No friendship, but the emptiness of his heart,

It was only his feelings,

He was alone with his regrets.

He lacked the butterflies,

The famous shiver down the spine,

Or the pure and simple fear of trying.

Other mouths kissed in vain

For all seemed empty

He played other bodies, in vain,

For none to meet,

And so she lived.

With something on the head,

With another person by whom,

His lungs filled,

So out of nowhere, slowly she suffered.

Although he knew what he should do,

His fear prevented her from living,

Be poor, few chose to die.

Pablo Danielli

Die Einsamkeit plötzlich gefangen

Einsamkeit gefangen plötzlich
Überrascht von immer mit Freunden,
Aber wie aus dem Nichts, fand sie sich allein.
Ihm fehlte ein Stück,
Keine Freundschaft, sondern die Leere seines Herzens,
Erst seine Gefühle,
Er war allein mit seiner Reue.
Ihm fehlte die Schmetterlinge,
Der berühmte Schauer über den Rücken,
Oder schlicht und einfach Angst vor zu versuchen.
Andere Mund umsonst geküßt
Für alle schien leer
Er spielte anderen Einrichtungen, vergebens,
Denn keiner zu treffen,
Und so lebte.
Mit etwas auf dem Kopf,
Mit einer anderen Person, von wem,
Seine Lungen gefüllt,
So wie aus dem Nichts, sie langsam gelitten.
Obwohl er wusste, was er tun sollte,
Seine Angst hinderte sie leben,
Arm sein, wählte einige zu sterben.

Pablo Danielli

La soledad de repente atrapado

La soledad de repente atrapado
Sorprendido por siempre tener amigos,
Pero de la nada, ella se encontró sola.
Le faltaba una pieza,
Sin la amistad, pero el vacío de su corazón,
Fue sólo sus sentimientos,
Estaba solo con su pena.
Carecía de las mariposas,
El temblor famoso por la espina dorsal,
O el miedo puro y simple de tratar.
Otras bocas besadas en vano
Por todo parecía vacío
Jugó otros órganos, en vano,
Porque ninguno de reunirse,
Y así vivió.
Con algo en la cabeza,
Con otra persona por la cual
Sus pulmones se llenaron,
Entonces, de la nada, poco a poco ella sufrió.
A pesar de que sabía lo que debía hacer,
Su miedo le impedía estar,
Ser pobre, pocos eligió morir.

Pablo Danielli

Black blood

While the U.S. is renewed hope with the re-election of President Obama, in Brazil everything is going down the drain, some of the money that comes from the black blood, taken from our sea, was to be allocated to education and health. Past elections have changed the political game and say that nothing will be allocated for education! this is the country we want? Increasingly alienated creating? cli-up faces but the game remains the same, neither government that is worthy of our shame!

Während die US-Hoffnung mit der Wiederwahl von Präsident Obama, in Brasilien erneuert wird alles den Bach runter, war etwas von dem Geld, das aus dem schwarzen Blut, aus unserem Meer entnommen wird, um Bildung und Gesundheit zugeordnet werden. Letzten Wahlen haben die politischen Spiel verändert und sagen, dass nichts für die Bildung zugeteilt werden! dies ist das Land, das wir wollen? Zunehmend entfremdeten Erzeugen? cli-up Gesichter, aber das Spiel bleibt das gleiche, weder Regierung, die es wert unserer Schande ist!

Mientras que los EE.UU. se renueva la esperanza con la reelección del presidente Obama, en Brasil todo se va por el desagüe, una parte del dinero que proviene de la sangre negro, tomado de nuestro mar, iba a ser destinado a la educación y la salud. Elecciones pasadas han cambiado el juego político y decir que nada se destinará a la educación! este es el país que queremos? Cada vez más alienados creando? cli-up caras, pero el juego sigue siendo el mismo, ni el gobierno que merece nuestra vergüenza!

Pablo Danielli

terça-feira, 6 de novembro de 2012

I've been barefoot

I've been barefoot

No stones in hand,

I come with calloused hands,

With pain in my heart.

I bring the tired mind

Hope and a little illusion.

Hunger no longer makes a difference

For those who cry at night,

Begging for death

At the dawn of loneliness.

Pain, being invisible

And only just hurts my heart.

Have not I bring in my eyes sure

That better days will come at some point.

Poor me indigent,

That surviving on the margins of society,

Begging for mercy, water and bread.

Pablo Danielli


Scars of Life

They are just noises
Passing, that disappear,
But leaving marks
No end in our souls.
Tears are drying
With the wind, in time.
But the spirit that wash
they feel helpless,
For the pain of one who is gone.
These are moments spent
As present, the pain,
My pain does not let go.
They are silent, your words
That in my ears will no longer play.
Only your memory and nothing more,
That will soften with time.
But the scar of your life
Have this on me,
And now more there to heal.

Pablo Danielli

Scars of Life

Sie sind nur Geräusche

Passing, die verschwinden,

Aber Spuren zu hinterlassen

Kein Ende in unsere Seelen.

Tränen trocknen

Mit dem Wind im Laufe der Zeit.

Aber der Geist, waschen

sie fühlen sich hilflos,

Für den Schmerz eines Menschen ist verschwunden.

Das sind Momente verbracht

Da derzeit die Schmerzen,

Meine Schmerzen nicht gehen lassen.

Sie sind leise, deine Worte

Das in meinen Ohren nicht mehr spielen.

Nur Ihr Gedächtnis und nichts mehr,

Das wird mit der Zeit zu mildern.

Aber die Narbe Ihres Lebens

Lassen Sie sich diese auf mich,

Und jetzt gibt es zu heilen.

Pablo Danielli

No son más que ruidos
Pase, que desaparecen,
Pero dejando marcas
No hay final en nuestras almas.
Las lágrimas se secan
Con el viento, en el tiempo.
Pero el espíritu que lavar
se sienten impotentes,
Para el dolor de alguien que se ha ido.
Estos son momentos vividos
En la actualidad, el dolor,
Mi dolor no le deja ir.
Son silenciosos, sus palabras
Que en mis oídos ya no jugar.
Sólo su recuerdo y nada más,
Esto suavizará con el tiempo.
Pero la cicatriz de su vida
Tenga esto en mí,
Y ahora, más allá de curar.

Pablo Danielli

É sexta feira!

The bread on the table, El pan en la mesa, Das Brot auf dem Tisch

The bread on the table

The bread on the table

No dessert, just bread,

At the table, without pleasantries.

Hunger in chairs

Occupying empty seats,

The space, which overflows

Echoes the cry of the wind

In the empty plate, shaking,

Hunger, cold.

Pablo Danielli

El pan en la mesa

El pan en la mesa
No hay postre, sólo pan,
En la mesa, sin bromas.
El hambre en sillas
Ocupando asientos vacíos,
El espacio, que se desborda
Hace suyo el grito del viento
En el plato vacío, temblores,
El hambre, el frío.

Pablo Danielli

Das Brot auf dem Tisch

Das Brot auf dem Tisch
Kein Dessert, nur Brot,
Auf dem Tisch, ohne Höflichkeiten.
Hunger auf Stühlen
Besetzen leere Sitze,
Der Raum, der überläuft
Echoes den Schrei des Windes
In der leeren Teller, Schütteln,
Hunger, Kälte.

Pablo Danielli

Teary eyes, Ojos llorosos, Tränen in den Augen

Teary eyes

Before my eyes teary
The stones that prevail, shocked!
But not impede walking.
So far only and are
The words you want to hear,
But the scars of life
They make the air, often with the wind, penetrate.
In the body, the mind, the loneliness as this,
A confused look
A conflict that haunts,
But there reigns!
While I can love.

Pablo Danielli

Ojos llorosos

Ante mis ojos llorosos
Las piedras que prevalecen, sorprendido!
Sin embargo, no impiden caminar.
Hasta la fecha únicamente y
Las palabras que quieres oír,
Pero las cicatrices de la vida
Ellos hacen que el aire, a menudo con el viento, penetrar.
En el cuerpo, la mente, la soledad como este,
Una mirada confusa
Un conflicto que atormenta,
Pero allí reina!
Mientras yo pueda amar.

Pablo Danielli

Tränen in den Augen

Vor meinen Augen Tränen
Die Steine, die herrschen, schockiert!
Aber nicht behindern Fuß.
Bisher ist nur und sind
Die Worte, die Sie hören wollen,
Aber die Narben des Lebens
Sie machen die Luft, oft mit dem Wind, eindringen.
In den Körper, den Geist, die Einsamkeit wie diese,
Ein verwirrter Blick
Ein Konflikt, dass spukt,
Aber es herrscht!
Während ich lieben kann.

Pablo Danielli

And the child smiled, Y el niño sonrió

And the child smiled

And the child smiled,

In the beauty of your sim,

In his play to be innocent,

And the purity of his gaze.

In charm so apparent,

Perhaps in discovering life, latent

So maybe get a kiss gift.

A nice hug and a thank you

By being heard,

Caution and loved.

Sons, nephews and friends,

Small soldiers,

Trained to overcome the pain,

Spread the love and paint the world

With a beautiful color.

Pablo Danielli

Y el niño sonrió

Y el niño sonrió,
En la belleza de tu sim,
En su obra de teatro que es inocente,
Y la pureza de su mirada.
En tanto encanto aparente,
Tal vez en el descubrimiento de la vida, latente
Así que tal vez conseguir un regalo beso.
Un abrazo agradable y un agradecimiento
Al ser escuchado,
Precaución y amado.
Hijos, sobrinos y amigos,
Pequeños guerreros,
Entrenados para superar el dolor,
Difundir el amor y pintar el mundo
Con un color hermoso.

Pablo Danielli

segunda-feira, 5 de novembro de 2012

Amar, Love

“As pessoas tem a necessidade de se sentir amadas, mas elas se esquecem de primeiro conseguir amar”.

Pablo Danielli

"People have a need to feel loved, but they forget getting first love."

Pablo Danielli

They are just names, No son más que nombres, Sie sind nur Namen

They are just names

They are just names

Said lip service,

No faces or feelings

They're just names.

Are unknown hopeless

It is the lack of a smile, the death of life,

Torn on the corners, no rhymes.

Are mutilated bodies on the floor

Pieces of dreams crumbled,

For needles, rocks and dust.

They are puppets in the wrong hands

Are looks lost at dawn

In search of the false pleasure,

That always ends in pain, the emptiness, the nothingness.

Fallen tears are not sprout

Empty without filling the heart,

Families are finished, unstructured,

Roles with small projects, thrown away.

They are just names

Forgotten by time,

Thrown to the wind.

They are just feelings

Forgotten, somewhere,

Waiting for salvation

For someone to hand them.

They are just friends, brothers

Lost, consumed by fear

They are just names

Said lip service.

Pablo Danielli

Sie sind nur Namen

Sie sind nur Namen
Keine Gesichter oder Gefühle
Sie sind nur Namen.

Unbekannt sind hoffnungslos
Es ist der Mangel eines Lächelns, der Tod des Lebens,
Hin-und hergerissen an den Ecken, keine Reime.

Sind verstümmelten Leichen auf dem Boden
Pieces of dreams zerbröckelte,
Für Nadeln, Gestein und Staub.

Sie sind Marionetten in den falschen Händen
Sind sieht Dawn verloren
Auf der Suche nach der falschen Vergnügen,
Das endet immer im Schmerz, die Leere, das Nichts.

Gefallene Tränen nicht sprießen
Leere ohne Füllung des Herzens,
Familien fertig sind, unstrukturierte,
Rollen mit kleinen Projekten, weggeworfen.

Sie sind nur Namen
Passwort von Zeit,
Geworfen, um den Wind.

Sie sind nur Gefühle
Vergessen, irgendwo,
Warten auf Erlösung
Für jemanden, übergeben sie.

Sie sind nur Freunde, Brüder
Verloren, verzehrt von der Angst
Sie sind nur Namen
Said Lippenbekenntnis.

Pablo Danielli

No son más que nombres

No son más que nombres
Dicho servicio de labios,
No hay caras o sentimientos
Son sólo nombres.

Se desconocen sin esperanza
Es la ausencia de una sonrisa, la muerte de la vida,
Dividida en las esquinas, sin rimas.

Están mutilados cuerpos en el suelo
Los pedazos de sueños se derrumbó,
Por agujas, rocas y polvo.

Son marionetas en las manos equivocadas
¿Se parece perdido en la madrugada
En busca del placer falso,
Eso siempre termina en el dolor, el vacío, la nada.

Lágrimas no brotan Caídos
Vacío sin llenar el corazón,
Las familias están acabados, no estructurada,
Roles con proyectos pequeños, desechados.

No son más que nombres
Olvidado por el tiempo,
Lanzado al viento.

No son más que sentimientos
Olvidado, en algún lugar,
Esperando a la salvación
Para alguien a entregarlos.

Ellos son sólo amigos, hermanos
Lost, consumidos por el miedo
No son más que nombres
Dicho servicio de labios.

Pablo Danielli

Destes versos, These verses eternal, Diese Verse ewigen

These verses eternal

New wood carvings

Earned time for company.

Even the wind and so little rain,

Were not able to fading

The sense in which it was drawn, sculpted.

Neither our absence, so our little heat

Along with bits and scraps was seen.

This feeling that I declared to the world

Marked for life form in nature

Won the sunlight as shelter.

Not harsh words, even slitter blade,

Were able to lose the beauty,

Whenever these verses

Are your ears.

Pablo Danielli

Destes versos eternos

Talhados em madeira nova

Ganhou o tempo como companhia.

Mesmo o vento e tão pouco a chuva,

Não foram capazes de fazer esmorecer

O sentimento no qual foi tirado, esculpido.

Tão pouco nossa ausência, tão pouco nosso calor,

Junto com pedaços e sobras foi visto.

Deste sentimento que declarei ao mundo

Marcado em forma de vida na natureza

Ganhou a luz do sol como abrigo.

Nem as palavras duras, nem mesmo lamina da talhadeira,

Foram capazes de fazer perder a beleza,

Toda vez que estes versos

Encontram teus ouvidos.

Pablo Danielli

Diese Verse ewigen

New Holzschnitzereien

Bekommen Zeit für Unternehmen.

Selbst der Wind und so wenig regen,

Konnten nicht verblassen

Der Sinn, in dem es erstellt wurde, gemeißelt.

Weder unserer Abwesenheit, so dass unsere wenig Wärme

Zusammen mit Bits und Fetzen gesehen wurde.

Dieses Gefühl, dass ich der Welt erklärt,

Kennzeichnung für Lebens Form in der Natur

Gewann das Sonnenlicht als Unterschlupf.

Nicht harte Worte, auch Schlitzmesser,

Konnten, um die Schönheit zu verlieren,

Wenn diese Verse

Sind Ihre Ohren.

Pablo Danielli

Estos versos eternos

Tallas de madera nueva

Tiempo ganado para la compañía.

Hasta el viento y la lluvia tan poco,

No fueron capaces de desvanecimiento

El sentido en que se redactó, esculpido.

Ni nuestra ausencia, por lo que nuestro poco calor

Junto con los pedacitos y pedazos fue visto.

Esta sensación de que declaró al mundo

Marcado por la forma de vida en la naturaleza

Ganó la luz del sol como refugio.

Sin palabras duras, incluso la hoja cortadora,

Fueron capaces de bajar de la belleza,

Siempre que estos versos

Son sus orejas.

Pablo Danielli

quarta-feira, 31 de outubro de 2012


‎"Câmara aprova projeto que isenta Fifa de impostos na Copa". Claro quem paga é o povo!

Conquest of Love

Conquest of Love

The Gods of Olympus rise,

And to see who is coming, bend,

Faced with such a feat and accomplishment unmatched.

The heavens celebrate his arrival,

The angels receive him with praise and saved.

The Tree of Life celebrates its new fruit

The supreme God to see, does not seem to believe,

Drop a tear of emotion,

Where hope is renewed anyway.

Poets in their sacred stronghold

If inspired, write without stopping,

Sonnets, poems and letters,

Everything for this fact, will be remembered for eternity.

And upon entering the gates of the kingdom of love

With her Aphrodite floats by long fields of joy,

Safe in his arms and his conquest woo him like this

His last day.

And having sun and moon as witnesses

Live intensely your great and true love.

Anesthetizing body and soul

To make your heart feel alive and

The eternal moment is your life.

Amar is sublime, majestic is the moment of two souls

Who join and feel what poets try to describe with words,

And make life a beautiful sonnet.

Sung to the four winds.

Pablo Danielli

Conquest of Love

Los Dioses del Olimpo lugar,
Y a ver quién entra, doble,
Ante tal hazaña y logro sin igual.

Los cielos celebran su llegada,
Los ángeles le recibieron con elogios y salvos.

El Árbol de la Vida celebra su nuevo fruto
El dios supremo de ver, no parece creer,
Suelta una lágrima de emoción,
Cuando la esperanza se renueva todos modos.

Poetas en su reducto sagrado
Si inspirado, escribir sin parar,
Sonetos, poemas y cartas,
Todo lo de este hecho, será recordado por toda la eternidad.

Y al entrar en las puertas del reino del amor
Con sus carrozas Aphrodite por los campos largos de alegría,
Seguro en sus brazos y su conquista le cortejar como este
Su último día.

Y tener sol y la luna como testigos
Vivir intensamente su gran amor y verdad.
Anestesiar cuerpo y alma
Para hacer que su corazón se sienta vivo y
El momento eterno es tu vida.

Amar es sublime, majestuoso es el momento de dos almas
Que se unen y sentir lo que los poetas tratan de describir con palabras,
Y hacer la vida un hermoso soneto.
Cantado a los cuatro vientos.

Pablo Danielli

Conquest of Love

Die Götter des Olymp steigen,
Und um zu sehen, wer kommt, biegen
Angesichts einer solchen Leistung und Leistung unübertroffen.

Der Himmel feiern seiner Ankunft
Die Engel empfangen ihn mit Lob und gespeichert.

The Tree of Life feiert seinen neuen Frucht
Der oberste Gott zu sehen, scheint nicht zu glauben,
Lassen Sie sich eine Träne der Rührung,
Wo Hoffnung ist ohnehin erneuert.

Poets in ihren heiligen Hochburg
Wenn inspiriert, ohne anzuhalten schreiben,
Sonette, Gedichte und Briefe,
Alles für diese Tat, für die Ewigkeit in Erinnerung bleiben.

Und beim Betreten die Tore des Reiches der Liebe
Mit ihrer Aphrodite schwimmt durch lange Felder der Freude,
Safe in seine Arme und seine Eroberung zu umwerben ihn so
Seine letzten Tage.

Und mit Sonne und Mond als Zeugen
Live-intensiv Ihre große und wahre Liebe.
Betäubende Körper und Seele
Um Ihr Herz lebendig fühlen und
Der ewige Augenblick ist dein Leben.

Amar ist erhaben, majestätisch ist der Moment der zwei Seelen
Wer und kommen Sie fühlen, was Dichter mit Worten zu beschreiben versuchen,
Und das Leben eine schöne Sonett.
Sung in die vier Winde.

Pablo Danielli

Foto poesia


Foto Poesia

terça-feira, 30 de outubro de 2012

To my friend life

To my friend life

Where did you hide in recent years, it seems that decides to take vacation leave or who knows of humanity, since he left, everything changed around here, I do not see the sparkle in people's eyes, all are obsessed by money, forget the past something that is talked about true love. It's true, I have to confess, this increasingly difficult to live, everything is very confusing, people have almost certainly lost their way.

Hope you do not get this with complaint, but that is life, the world today is only confusion, and good news to tell you, I'm afraid there is not. His energy is very much needed in these parts, little by little, here, will be ending the show, it seems that people no longer want to live in goodness, everything has a certain act of wickedness.

There my dear friend, if that tells you is brother killing brother, son killing father, you will not come back, then there seems to me that your escape this place, is in fact, not back, and give him reason to live in a world taken by corruption, banditry and heartless people?

There is no future, there are bad schools, violence this where you used to spend, this death his cousin smiling for nothing, but said this concern, complained of to believe? He said that is loaded on, great service, this being with estafa, sent to tell you that you need, because with so much work, it is difficult to rest.

That'll tell you that not much in our mutual friend the nature of this so stressed ta losing the beauty, no longer tends to give gifts to us, she says that the staff here, ta abusing her, her poor life, told me more time or less time you have an outbreak, clashes, there will not have the holy calm. And give you reason, because people clueless, only destruction, deforestation and planting the poison, she said that it needed a bit of attention.

But I have to confess, watching all this happen, people do not change, I seem that this same world into an abyss of no return, there was so much to live for, so much to feel, so many reasons for me to be present in people's lives . But today I am weak, I no longer have the strength I had, I lack stamina to endure, I fear that there is more room for me in the midst of so many lives lost.

Today there are so many reasons to smile, children do not play anymore, just want to know from TV and computer, as I feel there is a pain, knowing all this, every day I pass, I miss you more and more lives, people need you, your friend and her cousin death nature, and I ask for you more than anyone else miss the time you resolve appear, please do not forget to make me a glance, thanks for reading my palavrada.

From his confidant and dear friend, Joy.

Kisses Joy.

Note: Do not ask for more, but on the way if you can find love and ask him to accompany you.

Pablo Danielli

The old man and the boy, El anciano y el niño

The old man and the boy

Once seated, a lake, a boy trying to write a romantic letter to his beloved, he thought it should be easy because it's just post some nice words and phrases of impact, that everything would come out so that the words would flow course of his mouth, but if that does not happen enough to make some copies of books and everything would be resolved, though he thought the boy well knew what he was writing was not his and neither would your feeling.

But by looking around, he saw that there was an old lake that looks very serene, an elder so to speak, the boy realized that the old man looked at the lake, leaves and scribbled something on a paper he was carrying, the way we did and naturalness with which he made his attention to the boy, for how can he (the old) look for anything and write without stopping, on pieces of paper that came to him in moments you miss your fault imagination.

The boy began to think to himself, until at times thinking there was something wrong with him, for writing a letter could not be that hard, since all they do, why he just would not do it too?

The afternoon went along with the patience of the boy, who despaired with your own mind and your heart, as if nothing could make them good, why should point in living? At dusk, a beautiful sunset stretched across the lake, reflecting the splendor of all that lovely afternoon with a gentle breeze knocked some leaves yellow and brown of his other trees, on a perfect autumn afternoon, along with the leaves fall to the ground also all hope was that the boy then looked back and saw the old man a smile that really had not seen in a person's face, a smile that was pure and simple contrast with his white hair and beard, made snow.

Seeing such a thing, the young man stood up and walked round the lake toward the old, in rhythmic steps, without haste, wondering what you would say and would like to explain what happened to him as he approached the old the boy sitting next to a vast lawn that surrounds the lake, in a gesture of humility gives the hand telling you good afternoon.

Silence hung in the air, the old man had replied compliance, then the boy began to think of what to say, because he had become in an embarrassing situation, gathering his papers and your pencil, the boy begins to rise out of Suddenly no more than suddenly in an unexpected moment hears a friendly afternoon of good old.

The boy to sit back down, opening a smile that was not much, and the old man with all his wisdom and mastery that only time can give you, asks the boy who tormented him much, since he had perceived disbelief and fear in their words .

With the purity of a child the boy tells him what happened, and asks the old advice, because perhaps realized that his vast experience, would ease in making the words flow, looking a little wisdom to be able to write beautiful things for your loved one , the old man stood up and asked the boy to walk with him, the paths that were made along the lake.

Hoarsely punished by time, the old man begins to tell you about the life of everything that follows their fears and virtues, all listening intently looking young annotate every word the old man tells him, to be able to use everything in their texts, but old to realize this, asks the boy drop your pencil and paper and asks you a question to which there should be an immediate response, the old asks what the boy saw what he saw on this journey, what he learned from everything that happened there.

The boy replied that he had paid attention to every word and watched all the old was not to lose any detail, then the old man looked at the boy and said he was not prepared to hear his words, it was takes much more than simply pay attention to his words, it was necessary to understand them.

Not understanding what he wanted to say, the boy asked the old man to help to understand and understand the world the way he saw and not what's thought to be, then the old man told him that it was late and asked the boy to come back the next day, then that would explain what he wanted to know.

Arriving near the same hour the previous day, the boy goes to the lake, the afternoon was cold prevented anything more to meet the old man, who was sitting in the same place and scribbling a few lines on a small piece of paper, when approaching the old man asked the boy to sit down, and asked him the same question again, to see that the boy had not found the old response begins to explain, why the question and what it has to do with his life.

The old man explained that when invited to walk was not paying attention to the people, but in birds, trees, animals that were there, in the air, the sun and sky, interrupting the boy asked him why that old and you spoke, people are just figures that make up a medium are small pieces of a big puzzle and to understand that the boy would have to pay attention to detail that life provides, wonder why things are that way and not another, wondering why life offers us and the power to come and go, feeling, speaking and listening, that when he was called to go to feel the fresh air, take a deep breath and feel the sweet taste of life was to realize that life is made of small moments that together make up worth a whole life, he was to realize that life is not made up only of joy but also of sorrow, nothing is lost, everything is a learning constant and that people who cross our lives are special, the way they are and not for who they are.

He also explained that one can never put aside that moment, give a hug, a kiss like that or have admiration that often we sin not to give value to things simple, because only them that is true happiness, we stopped doing what we think because you think others will find this or that and in fact all have weaknesses.

The old man told him that to understand these words, then the kid would know the true meaning of life and the words would come out naturally from his head, which then would have wisdom enough to write about life and about love, that no matter what write if not of heart is nothing, spoke to cherish and enjoy your life, because the fact of having it already is a gift.

The boy was surprised with these words, was speechless for a moment and his eyes filled with water said that all that was beautiful and had never thought whether past like that in your mind, thanked the old man and said that such words could already write your letter with feeling pure and true, said he understood the meaning of his words.

He said he would take the life, live, however, with responsibility without losing the purity and asked what his name was, the old, the old man there, with all his wisdom, he simply said: I am the air, the earth, the birds , life, death, I kid, I'm just an old man.

Pablo Danielli

El anciano y el niño

Una vez sentados, un lago, un niño tratando de escribir una carta romántica a su amada, él pensaba que debía ser fácil, ya que acaba de publicar algunas palabras bonitas y frases de impacto, que todo iba a salir para que las palabras fluirían curso de su boca, pero si eso no sucede lo suficiente para hacer algunas copias de libros y todo se resolvería, aunque él pensó que el muchacho sabía muy bien lo que escribía no era suyo y tampoco lo haría su sentimiento.
Pero al mirar a su alrededor, vio que había un antiguo lago que se ve muy sereno, un anciano por decirlo así, el muchacho se dio cuenta de que el anciano miró al lago, hojas y garabateó algo en un papel que llevaba, la como lo hicimos y la naturalidad con la que hizo su atención al niño, porque ¿cómo puede él (el viejo) buscar cualquier cosa y escribir sin parar, en pedazos de papel que vinieron a él en momentos se olvida de su culpa imaginación.
El muchacho comenzó a pensar para sí mismo, hasta que al pensamiento veces que había algo malo en él, por haber escrito una carta no podía ser tan difícil, ya que todo lo que hacen, ¿por qué simplemente no lo haría también?
La tarde estuvo de acuerdo con la paciencia del niño, que desesperaba con su propia mente y su corazón, como si nada pudiera hacerlas bien, ¿por qué debería apuntar en la vida? Al atardecer, una hermosa puesta de sol se extendía por el lago, lo que refleja el esplendor de toda la tarde preciosa, con una suave brisa golpeó algunas hojas amarillas y marrones de sus otros árboles, en una tarde de otoño perfecto, junto con las hojas caen al suelo también toda esperanza era que el muchacho luego miró hacia atrás y vio al anciano con una sonrisa que realmente no había visto en la cara de una persona, una sonrisa que era pura y simple contraste con su pelo blanco y barba, Nevada.
Al ver tal cosa, el joven se puso de pie y caminó alrededor del lago hacia el viejo, en pasos rítmicos, sin prisa, preguntándose qué le diría y me gustaría explicar lo que le sucedió al acercarse a la edad el chico sentado al lado de un gran césped que rodea el lago, en un gesto de humildad da la mano que le dice buenas tardes.
El silencio flotaba en el aire, el anciano había respondido cumplimiento, entonces el muchacho empezó a pensar en qué decir, porque se había convertido en una situación embarazosa, recogiendo sus papeles y su lápiz, el niño comienza a salir de la De repente, no más de repente, en un momento inesperado oye una tarde agradable de buena edad.
El muchacho que volviera a sentarse, abrir una sonrisa que no era mucho, y el viejo con toda su sabiduría y maestría que sólo el tiempo puede dar, le pregunta al chico que le atormentaba mucho, ya que él había percibido la incredulidad y temor en sus palabras .
Con la pureza de un niño, el niño le cuenta lo sucedido, y le pregunta el viejo consejo, tal vez porque se dio cuenta de que su vasta experiencia, lo que aliviaría en el flujo de palabras, buscando un poco de sabiduría para ser capaz de escribir cosas bonitas para su ser querido , el anciano se puso de pie y preguntó al niño a caminar con él, los caminos que se han hecho a lo largo del lago.
Voz ronca castigados por el tiempo, el anciano empieza a contar la vida de todo lo que sigue a sus miedos y virtudes, todos escuchando atentamente buscando jóvenes anotar cada palabra que el viejo le dice que, para ser capaz de utilizar todo en sus textos, sino edad para darse cuenta de esto, se pregunta el chico deje caer su lápiz y papel y le hace una pregunta a la que debe haber una respuesta inmediata, la edad le pregunta lo que el chico vio lo que vio en este viaje, lo que aprendió de todo lo que pasó allí.
El muchacho respondió que había prestado atención a cada palabra y observé todo lo viejo no iba a perder ningún detalle, a continuación, el anciano miró al niño y dijo que no estaba dispuesto a escuchar sus palabras, era necesita mucho más que simplemente prestar atención a sus palabras, había que entenderlos.
No entender lo que quería decir, el muchacho preguntó al anciano para ayudar a comprender y entender el mundo de la manera que él vio y no lo que cree que es, entonces el anciano le dijo que ya era tarde y le pidió al muchacho que volviera al día siguiente, luego que explicara lo que quería saber.
Al llegar cerca de la misma hora del día anterior, el niño va al lago, la tarde era fría impidió nada más para conocer al hombre viejo, que estaba sentado en el mismo lugar y garabatear unas líneas en un pedazo pequeño de papel, cuando se aproxima -preguntó el anciano al niño a sentarse, y le hizo la misma pregunta otra vez, al ver que el chico no había encontrado la respuesta anterior comienza a explicar por qué la pregunta y lo que tiene que ver con su vida.
El anciano explicó que cuando fue invitado a caminar no estaba prestando atención a las personas, pero en las aves, los árboles, los animales que estaban allí, en el aire, el sol y el cielo, interrumpiendo el muchacho le preguntó por qué esa vieja y hablaba, la gente son sólo cifras que componen un medio son pequeñas piezas de un gran rompecabezas y comprender que el niño tendría que prestar atención a los detalles que la vida ofrece, se preguntan por qué las cosas son así y no otro, preguntándose por qué la vida nos ofrece y el poder para ir y venir, sentir, hablar y escuchar, que cuando fue llamado para ir a sentir el aire fresco, tomar una respiración profunda y sentir el dulce sabor de la vida fue darse cuenta de que la vida está hecha de pequeños momentos que componen la pena una vida entera, tenía que darse cuenta de que la vida no se compone sólo de alegría pero también de tristeza, nada se pierde, todo es un aprendizaje constantes y que la gente que se cruzan en nuestras vidas son especiales, la forma en que son y no por lo que son.
También explicó que uno nunca puede dejar de lado ese momento, dar un abrazo, un beso así o admiración que muchas veces pecamos de no dar valor a las cosas simples, porque sólo ellas que es la verdadera felicidad, dejamos de hacer lo que pensamos porque piensas que otros encontrarán esto o aquello y, de hecho, todos tenemos debilidades.
El anciano le dijo que para entender estas palabras, el niño sabría el verdadero significado de la vida y las palabras salían naturalmente de su cabeza, que tendría entonces la sabiduría suficiente como para escribir acerca de la vida y del amor, que no importa lo que escribir si no hay nada de corazón, habló de apreciar y disfrutar de su vida, porque el hecho de tener lo que ya es un regalo.
El joven se sorprendió con estas palabras, se quedó mudo por un momento y sus ojos se llenaron de agua, dijo que todo lo que era hermoso y nunca había pensado que si pasado así en tu mente, dio las gracias al anciano y dijo que esas palabras Ya podía escribir su carta con sentimiento puro y verdadero, dijo que entendía el significado de sus palabras.
Él dijo que iba a quitar la vida, vivir, sin embargo, con responsabilidad, sin perder la pureza y le preguntó cuál era su nombre, la edad, el anciano allí, con toda su sabiduría, él simplemente dijo: Yo soy el aire, la tierra, las aves , la vida, la muerte, no es broma, yo sólo soy un hombre viejo.

Pablo Danielli

segunda-feira, 29 de outubro de 2012

The stone that fell from heaven, Der Stein, der vom Himmel fiel, La piedra que cayó del cielo

The stone that fell from heaven

Sometimes when you have nothing you need to risk everything to win, even if slightly, even crumbs for when your hands are empty, the wind can not be the only weight to carry. Often it takes letting go of all that is superfluous even if it means getting naked, no clothes, but of thoughts, pride, love and hate.

Not all our certainties, acquired through endless days in the routine of years, the repetition of errors, not them, not even these few are enough to get us out of ostracism mental, just being caught off guard by the size of our alienation, and we were even more amazed to discover that most enjoy being this way.

There is an almost archaic fable, which was called the stone that fell from the sky, where it shows all alienation of a society, almost primitive by your thinking. The place was taken by nepotism, power was corrupted, there were many flaws in the city and the population was controlled by media banalities.

Everything absolutely everything was a chaotic organization, so all lived, it was established that order. They say that one night, a driver coming back from work was taken by surprise, a loud noise on the hood of your car and everything stopped working. He left scared and ran into a large rock, where the smoke out indicating that it came from the sky!

Ready, was enough for a global hysteria, the media, politicians population, an unprecedented uproar, all questioning and producing absurd theories about this phenomenon. There were weeks and months upon the subject, while society's problems only got worse as the population was definitely sunk in more and more distractions.

Until at a certain time, someone asked, why all this fuss about a rock? Why so much importance on something we have not revealed anything? And so to the first question were taken by others doubt! Seeing that the spotlight was being changed, who has been threatened try to put another way to get attention, new banalities, but the way it was done, there was no turning back and seeing it tried to buy the silence and seeing that the voice was already free in the alleys of the city tried to berate and finally arrest.

The stone was originally distraction instrument in the hand of whoever handles, some people realizing their format, used it to instrument release, as old as the earth, as necessary as air. The stone with its defective form, ugly, unfunny, no color, no voice, just as the person who watched, to open their eyes, became strong, beautiful and essential.

This fable is well our society today, we are alienated, are scattered and we are being manipulated, our stone is just empty programs, the armed circus around things pathetic. We must strip from enforced certainties and the vicious cycle of power. You must tame the stone, learn to use it and with that change society.

Pablo Danielli

Der Stein, der vom Himmel fiel

Manchmal, wenn Sie nichts haben müssen, alles zu riskieren, um zu gewinnen, wenn auch geringfügig, auch Krümel für, wenn Ihre Hände sind leer, der Wind kann nicht die einzige Gewicht zu tragen sein. Oft dauert es loszulassen von allem, was überflüssig ist, auch wenn es immer nackt, keine Kleider, sondern von Gedanken, Stolz, Liebe bedeutet und Hass.
Nicht alle unsere Gewissheiten, durch endlose Tage in der Routine der Jahre erworben hat, die Wiederholung von Fehlern, nicht sie, nicht einmal diese wenigen genug, um uns aus der Ächtung mental, gerade überrascht von der Größe unseres gefangen Entfremdung, und wir waren noch mehr erstaunt zu entdecken, dass die meisten sind auf diese Weise zu genießen.
Es ist eine fast archaische Fabel, die als der Stein, der aus dem Himmel, wo es zeigt alle Entfremdung einer Gesellschaft, fast primitiv Ihr Denken fiel wurde. Der Platz Vetternwirtschaft genommen wurde, Macht korrumpiert wurde, gab es viele Mängel in der Stadt und die Bevölkerung wurde durch Medien Banalitäten gesteuert.
Alles absolut alles war eine chaotische Organisation, so dass alle lebten, wurde festgestellt, dass Ordnung. Sie sagen, dass eine Nacht, ein Fahrer auf dem Rückweg von der Arbeit genommen wurde überrascht, ein lautes Geräusch auf der Motorhaube des Autos und alles funktionierte. Er verließ erschrocken und lief in einem großen Felsen, wo der Rauch aus darauf hinweist, dass es vom Himmel kam!
Ready, war genug für eine globale Hysterie, die Medien, Politiker Bevölkerung, eine beispiellose Aufruhr, alle Fragen und produzieren absurden Theorien über dieses Phänomen. Es waren Wochen und Monaten auf das Thema, während die Probleme der Gesellschaft nur noch schlimmer, da die Bevölkerung war auf jeden Fall in mehr und mehr Ablenkungen versenkt.
Bis zu einem bestimmten Zeitpunkt, fragte jemand, warum all diese Aufregung über ein Felsen? Warum so viel Wert auf etwas, das wir haben nichts offenbart? Und so auf die erste Frage wurden von anderen Zweifel genommen! Zu sehen, dass die Scheinwerfer, die geändert wurde, der bedroht wurde versucht, einen anderen Weg, um die Aufmerksamkeit, neue Banalitäten zu setzen, aber so, wie es geschehen war, gab es kein Zurück mehr und sehen es versucht, das Schweigen zu kaufen und zu sehen, dass die Stimme schon frei in den Gassen der Stadt versucht, zu beschimpfen und schließlich verhaften.
Der Stein war ursprünglich Distraktionsinstrument in der Hand, wer behandelt, einige auch die Realisierung ihres Formats, es instrument Release, so alt wie die Erde, so notwendig wie Luft. Der Stein mit seinen defekte Form, hässlich, unfunny, keine Farbe, keine Stimme, wie die Person, beobachtete ihre Augen zu öffnen, stark, schön und wichtig geworden ist.
Diese Fabel ist gut für unsere heutige Gesellschaft, wir entfremdet sind, sind verstreut und wir werden manipuliert, ist unser Stein nur leere Programme, die bewaffnete Zirkus um Dinge erbärmlich. Wir müssen aus der erzwungenen Gewissheiten und den Teufelskreis der entmachten. Sie müssen zu zähmen den Stein, lernen, es zu benutzen und mit diesem Wandel der Gesellschaft.

Pablo Danielli

La piedra que cayó del cielo

A veces, cuando no tienes nada tiene que arriesgar todo para ganar, aunque ligeramente, incluso migajas para cuando sus manos están vacías, el viento no puede ser el único peso a transportar. A menudo se necesita dejar ir todo lo que es superfluo, incluso si esto significa que se desnudan, sin ropa, sino de los pensamientos, el orgullo, el amor y el odio.
No todas nuestras certezas, adquiridas a través de interminables días en la rutina de los años, la repetición de errores, no ellos, ni siquiera esos pocos son suficientes para salir del ostracismo mental, acaba de ser sorprendido por el tamaño de nuestra alienación, y nos quedamos incluso más sorprendido al descubrir que la mayoría de disfrutar de ser de esta manera.
Hay una fábula casi arcaico, que fue llamada la piedra que cayó del cielo, donde se muestra toda la alienación de una sociedad, casi primitivo por su forma de pensar. El lugar fue ocupado por el nepotismo, el poder se corrompe, hubo muchas fallas en la ciudad y la población estaba controlada por los medios de comunicación banalidades.
Todo absolutamente todo era una organización caótica, así que todo lo vivido, se estableció que el orden. Dicen que una noche, un conductor que viene de vuelta del trabajo fue tomada por sorpresa, un ruido fuerte en el capó de su coche y todo dejó de funcionar. Él dejó asustado y se encontró con una gran roca, donde el humo que indica que vinieron del cielo!
Listo, fue suficiente para que una histeria mundial, los medios de comunicación, la población de los políticos, un escándalo sin precedentes, todo cuestionamiento y la producción de teorías absurdas sobre este fenómeno. Había semanas y meses sobre el tema, mientras que los problemas de la sociedad sólo se agravó cuando la población se hundió definitivamente en distracciones más y más.
Hasta que en un momento determinado, alguien le preguntó, ¿por qué todo este alboroto sobre una roca? ¿Por qué tanta importancia a algo que no hemos revelado nada? Y así, a la primera pregunta se tomaron por la duda a otros! Al ver que el centro de atención era el relevo, que ha sido objeto de amenazas tratan de poner otra manera de llamar la atención, banalidades nuevas, pero la forma en que se hizo, no hubo vuelta atrás y ver que trató de comprar el silencio y viendo que la voz era ya libre en los callejones de la ciudad intentó reprender y detener finalmente.
La piedra era originalmente distracción instrumento en la mano de quien lo maneja, algunas personas darse cuenta de su formato, que solía liberación instrumento, tan viejo como la tierra, tan necesaria como el aire. La piedra con su forma defectuosa, feo, sin gracia, sin color, sin voz, al igual que la persona que vio, a abrir sus ojos, se hizo fuerte, hermoso y esencial.
Esta fábula está muy por nuestra sociedad de hoy, estamos alienados, están dispersos y son manipulados ser, nuestra piedra está a sólo programas vacíos, el circo armado alrededor de las cosas patéticas. Hay que despojar de certezas forzadas y el ciclo vicioso del poder. Usted debe dominar la piedra, aprender a usarlo y con ello cambiar la sociedad.

Pablo Danielli

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