Sobras, scraps

Scraps


And leftovers are just that
Time, hope, disbelief
Food, of dreams, of curse.

Of humanity, dignity, kindness,
Offered to pigs, rats so despised.

Skins decaying, looks crooked
Buildings crumbling, corrupt society.

Evil sayings, which bring the old new!
An archaic idolatry pruning what is haunting.

And every shadow feels the pain of a soul colored
Even if it is wrapped in black bags
To protect themselves from the bitter fingers of fate.

They are remnants of stories, blending classic popular
Ignorance, indifference, distraction, corruption,
Ingredients of a weak socialization.

Pablo Danielli



Sobras


São sobras e apenas isto
De tempo, esperança, descrença
De comida, de sonhos, de maldição.

De humanidade, dignidade, bondade,
Oferecida aos porcos, ratos tão desprezados.

Peles em decomposição, olhares tortos
Prédios em ruínas, sociedade corrompida.

Mal dizeres, que trazem as velhas novas!
Uma idolatria arcaica que poda o que é assombro.

E toda sombra sente a dor de uma alma colorida
Mesmo que seja envolto de sacos pretos
Pra se proteger dos azedos dedos do destino.

São restos de histórias, mistura clássica popular
Ignorância, indiferença, distração, corrupção,
Ingredientes de uma fraca socialização.

Pablo Danielli

Dictating fashions and trends,

Dictating fashions and trends


And the victims of hunger here? The country is heading towards a dark side, where the people are achincalhado by unscrupulous politicians and without the slightest sense of ethics possible. How many times in the morning when you open the newspaper we encounter on our news preposterous "noble and rich country," such as political marriage, vote buying, corruption, corruption and more corruption, but not dear readers, for it is not the politicians enough, have to do more harm to the Brazilian people, have to confront even more common sense on the part of whoever is in charge has to have the fun, the slap in the face of the people.
Unsurprisingly for anyone with the total neglect notorious in Brazil, the population has no health, no job, and no study, but it has purse or bag that works more or less like this, and I'll pay you in calms his corner, and elections still give me a forcinha! But still they dare to challenge us, to see how far this will go into the Brazilian people vegetate in front there is a television, just seeing, hearing and saying: My God! Again! Or simply, no way, everything is lost.
Yes that is right, we're passive corruption, we are part of it, because we know of its existence and not take any action, we are corrupt as our government, but the fashion of our commanders is now another kind, because they are making the policy a catwalk, always throwing "trends", and the new season features the wave of charity to other countries, as or more corrupt than ours. Now turn a country "holy", which helps poor people from other countries notorious, simple as that.
Our dear president with his utopian vision, to be seen as a good steward for the world, now donates millions to our neighbors, to our neighbor who is not, or who only says "friend", it's amazing how they discovered the vocation of kindness in Brazil, are a kind of bank friend, who lends and gives without expecting to get anything back, but ask for a Brazilian citizen go to a bank and ask for money back home in a straitjacket, given how crazy this is the sense of justice of our rulers.
But Brazil today according to our leaders is a first world country, not much better than this, because first world countries do not give the way our country is lovely, surely there must be a lot of people laughing at people Brazilian, because instead of taking care of our problems, we agree that there are many, our politicians prefer to take care of another country, well, this should be another trend of the season, one more fashion, to be paraded on the catwalk of impunity, corruption and inequality our kind in Brazil.

Pablo Danielli


Ditando modas e tendências


E as vitimas da fome daqui? O país caminha para um lado sombrio, aonde o povo é achincalhado por políticos sem escrúpulos e sem o menor senso de ética possível. Quantas vezes pela manhã ao abrir o jornal nos deparamos com noticias estapafúrdias sobre nosso “nobre e rico país”, tais como políticos casados, compra de votos, corrupção, corrupção e mais corrupção, mas não caros leitores, isto para os políticos não é o suficiente, tem que se fazer mais para prejudicar o povo brasileiro, tem que se afrontar ainda mais o bom senso, da parte de quem esta no comando tem que ter o sarro, o tapa na cara do povo.
Não é novidade para ninguém o total desleixo com os famigerados no Brasil, a população não tem saúde, não tem emprego, e não tem estudo, mas tem bolsa isso ou bolsa aquilo, funciona mais ou menos assim, eu pago e você fica quietinho no seu canto, e nas eleições ainda me da uma forcinha! Mas ainda assim eles ousam em nos desafiar, em ver até aonde vai essa vontade do povo brasileiro em vegetar em frente há um aparelho de televisão, apenas vendo, ouvindo e dizendo: Meu deus! Mais uma vez! Ou simplesmente, não tem jeito, esta tudo perdido.
Sim é isto mesmo, estamos passivos com a corrupção, fazemos parte dela, pois sabemos da sua existência e não tomamos qualquer atitude, somos corruptos tanto quanto nossos governantes, mas a moda dos nossos amáveis comandantes agora é outra, porque estão fazendo da política uma passarela, sempre lançando “tendências”, e a nova estação apresenta a onda de caridade para outros países, tão ou mais corruptos que o nosso. Agora viramos um país “santo”, que ajuda os pobres coitados famigerados de outros países, simples assim.
Nosso querido presidente com sua visão utópica, por ser visto como um bem feitor pelo mundo, agora doa milhões, para nossos vizinhos, para quem não é nosso vizinho, ou para quem apenas se diz “amigo”, é incrível como descobriram a vocação da bondade no Brasil, somos uma espécie de banco amigo, que empresta e dá, sem esperar receber nada de volta, mas peça para um cidadão brasileiro ir até um banco e pedir dinheiro, volta para casa em uma camisa de força, dado como louco, este é o senso de justiça dos nossos governantes.
Mas o Brasil hoje de acordo com nossos governantes é um país de primeiro mundo, não muito melhor que isto, pois países do primeiro mundo não fazem doações da forma que o nosso amável país faz, com toda a certeza deve haver muita gente rindo do povo brasileiro, pois ao invés de cuidar dos nossos problemas, convenhamos que são muitos, nossos políticos preferem cuidar de outro país, bom, esta deve ser mais uma tendência da estação, mais uma moda, para ser desfilada na passarela da impunidade, desigualdade e corrupção no nosso bondoso Brasil.

Pablo Danielli

O velho e o Garoto, The old man and the boy

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

O velho e o garoto



Certa vez, sentado, a beira de um lago, um garoto tentava escrever uma carta romântica para sua amada, pensava ele que devia ser fácil, pois é só postar algumas palavras bonitas e frases de impacto, que tudo sairia de modo que as palavras fluiriam naturalmente de sua boca, mas se caso isso não acontecer bastava fazer algumas cópias de livros e tudo estaria resolvido, embora pensasse assim o garoto sabia que o que ele estaria escrevendo não seria dele e nem sairia do seu sentimento.

Mas ao observar ao seu redor, viu que naquele lago havia um velho com aparência muito serena, um ancião por assim dizer, o garoto percebera que o velho olhava para o lago, para as folhas e rabiscava algo em um papel que trazia consigo, o modo com que fazia e a naturalidade com que fazia lhe chamaram a atenção do garoto, pois como pode ele (o velho) olhar para qualquer coisa e escrever sem parar, em pedaços de papel que em momentos lhe chegavam a faltar-lhe por culpa de sua imaginação.

O garoto começou a pensar consigo mesmo, até em alguns momentos achando haver algo errado com ele, pois escrever uma carta não poderia ser tão difícil assim, já que todos o fazem, por que ele, justo ele não faria também?

A tarde passava junto com a paciência do garoto, que se desesperava com sua própria mente e seu coração, pois se nada conseguia tirar de bom deles, por que haveria sentido em viver? Ao entardecer, um lindo por do sol se estendia pelo lago, refletindo todo esplendor da linda tarde que com uma suave brisa derrubava algumas folhas amarelas e outras marrons de suas arvores, em uma perfeita tarde de outono, junto com as folhas caia também por terra toda a esperança que havia no garoto, então olhou novamente para o velho e viu um sorriso que a muito não via no rosto de uma pessoa, um sorriso simples e puro que fazia contraste com sua barba e cabelos brancos, feito neve.

Ao ver tal coisa, o jovem levantou-se e caminhou contornando o lago em direção ao velho, em passos ritmados, sem pressa, pensando no que iria dizer-lhe e como faria para explicar o que acontecia com ele, ao se aproximar do velho, o garoto senta ao seu lado num vasto gramado que cerca o lago, em num gesto de humildade lhe dá a mão lhe falando boa tarde.

O silêncio pairava no ar, o velho não lhe respondera o cumprimento, então o garoto começou a pensar no que dizer, pois havia se tornado em uma situação embaraçosa, juntando seus papeis e seu lápis, o garoto começa a se levantar para sair, de repente não mais que de repente em um momento inesperado ouve um amistoso boa tarde do velho.

O garoto volta a sentar, abrindo um sorriso que a muito não fazia, e o velho com toda a sua sabedoria e maestria que só o tempo pode lhe dar, pergunta ao garoto que tanto lhe atormentava, já que havia percebido descrença e temor em suas palavras.

Com a pureza de uma criança o garoto lhe fala o que aconteceu, e pede conselhos ao velho, pois percebera que talvez por sua vasta experiência, teria facilidade em fazer fluir as palavras, procurando um pouco de sabedoria para poder escrever coisas bonitas para sua amada, o velho levantou-se e convidou o garoto para caminhar com ele, os caminhos que se faziam ao longo do lago.

Com uma voz rouca castigada pelo tempo, o velho começa a lhe falar da vida de tudo que a segue seus temores e virtudes, ouvindo atentamente tudo o jovem procura anotar cada palavra que o velho lhe fala, para poder usar tudo em seus textos, mas o velho ao perceber isso, pede ao garoto que largue seu lápis e papel e lhe faz uma pergunta com a qual deveria haver resposta imediata, o velho lhe pergunta o que o garoto percebeu, o que ele notou nessa caminhada, o que ele aprendeu com tudo o que se passou ali.

O garoto respondeu-lhe que havia prestado atenção em cada palavra dita e que observou tudo que o velho fazia para não perder nenhum detalhe, o velho olhou então para o garoto e falou que ele ainda não estava preparado para ouvir suas palavras, que se fazia necessário muito mais que simplesmente prestar atenção em suas palavras, era necessário compreende-las.

Não entendendo o que ele quis lhe dizer, o garoto pediu ajuda para o velho para poder compreender e entender o mundo da forma que ele via e não da qual pensava ser, o velho então lhe falou que era tarde e pediu ao garoto que voltasse no dia seguinte, que então lhe explicaria o que ele queria saber.

Chegando perto da mesma hora do dia anterior, o garoto vai para o lago, a tarde era fria mais nada impediu de ir ao encontro do velho, que estava no mesmo lugar sentado e rabiscando alguns versos em um pequeno pedaço de papel, ao se aproximar o velho pediu a garoto que sentasse, e lhe fez a mesma pergunta novamente, ao ver que o garoto não havia encontrado resposta o velho começa a lhe explicar, o porquê da pergunta e o que ela tem haver com a sua vida.

O velho lhe explicou que quando o convidou para caminhar não foi para prestar atenção nas pessoas, mas sim nos pássaros, arvores, animais que ali estavam, no ar, no sol e no céu, o garoto interrompendo lhe perguntou o porque disso e o velho lhe falou, que as pessoas são apenas figuras que compõem um meio, são pequenas peças de um grande quebra-cabeça e que para compreender isso o garoto teria que prestar a atenção nos detalhes que a vida oferece, se perguntar o porque das coisas serem daquele jeito e não de outro, se perguntar por que a vida nos oferece o poder e ir e vir, sentir, falar e ouvir, que quando ele o chamou pra caminhar era para sentir o ar puro, respirar fundo e sentir o doce sabor da vida, era para perceber que a vida é feita de pequenos momentos, que juntos se fazem valer por uma vida intera, era pra ele perceber que a vida não é feita só de alegria, mas de tristeza também, que nada se perde, tudo é um aprendizado constante e que as pessoas que cruzam nossas vidas são especiais, da forma que são e não por serem quem são.

Também explicou que nunca se pode deixar de lado aquele momento, de dar um abraço, um beijo em que se gosta ou se tem admiração, que muitas vezes pecamos por não dar valor às coisas simples, pois só nelas que se encontra a verdadeira felicidade, que deixamos de fazer o que pensamos por achar que os outros vão achar isso ou aquilo e na verdade todos têm fraquezas.

O velho lhe falou que ao entender essas palavras, o garoto saberia então o verdadeiro significado da vida e que as palavras sairiam naturalmente de sua cabeça, que então teria sabedoria o suficiente para escrever sobre a vida e sobre o amor, que não importa o que escrevam se não for de coração de nada vale, falou pra valorizar e aproveitar a sua vida, pois o fato de tê-la já é uma dádiva.

O garoto ficou surpreso com tais palavras, ficou mudo por alguns instantes e com os olhos cheios de água falou que aquilo tudo era lindo e que nunca havia passado se quer pensamento parecido com aquilo na sua mente, agradeceu o velho por tais palavras e falou que já poderia escrever a sua carta com sentimento puro e verdadeiro, disse que entendeu o significado de suas palavras.

Falou que aproveitaria a vida, viveria, porém, com responsabilidade sem perder a pureza, e pediu qual era seu nome, o velho, há o velho, com toda sua sabedoria, simplesmente lhe falou: Eu sou o ar, a terra, os pássaros, a vida, a morte, eu garoto, eu sou simplesmente um velho.

Pablo Danielli

Significados, Meanings

Meanings

Meaning of ridicule

S.F. Mockery, mockery.

Jokes, satire.

Ancient folk song; burlesque ballads.

When observing the news and to browse through the newspapers, corruption cases take much of the headlines. Promises of investigation, punishment and changes take footers along with the credibility of our politicians.
It is no exaggeration to state that superficially Brazil is a nation with great calling for justice, just forget to do it. As forgets to clear the existing rot in Congress, as well as the people do not remember off the election season, as people quickly forget the names of the figures involved in the scandals, which kill thousands of people daily by deviations of funds health, education and security.
We are all familiar with the corruption, not shocked with such unscrupulousness, theft of different shapes became commonplace. The government is working like a machine without brake, announces cut on one side and the other increases, never loses. The use of our taxes is misapplied, it takes more benefits with themselves than with the investment required for the population.
We are all hostages of our silence, our passivity in the face of news that follow, repeat and so we eventually turn us into ridicule, puppets of a few who rely on the sale of many. The question that follows is whether the machine is not at its limit, the gear will support the more the misuse of money and if the population would already be on your tolerance threshold.
With amazing speed and incredible accuracy, politicians of various scales of government are denounced by dubious involvements. Defendants are dismissed from their posts and their successors have assumed office with a strong tendency to leave them in the same way.
Are doing little case of public opinion, are treating people as mere spectators of a novel endless speak scornfully of possible wrongdoing, even with overwhelming evidence and recordings. They laugh with certainty that nothing and absolutely nothing will happen to your image, and shall have the short memory of the Brazilian people.
The only certainty that seems to prevail is that when you open the newspaper headline is a politician involved, whether it is leaving only alderman, congressman, senator or minister. The same excuses, the same versions and same certainty that people soon forgot their names, their suspicions and once again the certainty of impunity in government at any level.


Pablo Danielli

Significados

Significado de Chacota 

s.f. Zombaria, mofa.

Gracejos, sátiras.

Antiga canção popular; trovas burlescas. 

Quando se observa os noticiários e ao folhar os jornais, casos de corrupção tomam grande parte das manchetes. Promessas de investigação, punição e mudanças tomam os rodapés juntamente com a credibilidade de nossos políticos.

Não é exagero afirmar que superficialmente o Brasil é uma nação com grande vocação para justiça, apenas esquece-se de fazê-la. Assim como se esquece de limpar a podridão existente no congresso, assim como não se lembra do povo fora da época de eleição, assim como as pessoas esquecem rapidamente os nomes das figuras envolvidas nos escândalos, que diariamente matam milhares de pessoas pelos desvios de verbas, na saúde, educação e segurança.

Estamos todos familiarizados com a corrupção, não ficamos chocados com tamanha falta de escrúpulos, o roubo de diferentes formas se tornou banal. O governo trabalha como uma maquina sem freio, anuncia corte de um lado e aumenta do outro, nunca perde. O uso de nossos impostos é mal aplicado, se gasta mais com benefícios próprios que com o investimento necessário para a população.

Somos todos reféns de nosso silencio, de nossa passividade diante das noticias que se seguem, de forma repita e acabamos por nos transformar em chacota, marionetes de poucos, que contam com a alienação de muitos. A pergunta que se segue é se a maquina não se encontra em seu limite, a engrenagem suportará o quanto mais do uso inapropriado do dinheiro e se a população já estaria em seu limite de tolerância.

Com a velocidade surpreendente e a veracidade incrível, políticos das mais variadas escalas do governo são denunciados por envolvimentos duvidosos. São acusados destituídos de seus postos e seus sucessores já assumem cargos com uma forte tendência a deixa-los da mesma forma.

Estão fazendo pouco caso da opinião publica, estão tratando as pessoas como meros espectadores de uma novela sem fim, falam com desdém de possíveis atos ilícitos, mesmo com gravações e provas contundentes. Eles riem com a certeza de que nada e absolutamente nada acontecerá com sua imagem, contando ainda com a memoria curta do povo brasileiro.

A única certeza que parece prevalecer é que ao abrir o jornal à manchete será de um politico envolvido, restando apenas saber se é vereador, deputado, senador ou ministro. As mesmas desculpas, as mesmas versões e a mesma certeza de que as pessoas logo esqueceram seus nomes, suas suspeitas e mais uma vez a certeza de impunidade no governo em qualquer escalão.



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

Abyss

Abyss


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

Abgrund


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

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

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

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