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

Magia, Magic

magic


All eyes are turned upwards,
Almost not see, that delicate line
And in it, the beautiful acrobat seems to float, fly, hover in midair.


Hearts in the hands,
Thoughts, will it succeed or not?
With its beautiful white linen, silver umbrella,
Looks frightened,
Will he fall?


It's like someone who does not fear death,
And live in the moment lucky
Does she know,
What is your great love to see him?


Just waiting to be able to see him,
And with flowers you receive,
Does it get balancing anger is passion?


It will not make her heart, Ring, line and song,
As a beautiful artist, living a passion
Can she, hovering in the air, without seeing you,
Balancing another heart?

Pablo Danielli


Magia

Todos os olhos estão voltados para cima,
Quase não enxergam, aquela delicada linha,
E nela, a linda equilibrista parece flutuar, voar, pairar no ar.

Corações nas mãos,
Pensamentos, será que irá conseguir ou não?
Com sua linda roupa branca, guarda-chuva prateado,
Olhares assustados,
Será que irá cair?

É como quem não teme a morte,
E vive o momento na sorte,
Será que ela sabe,
Que seu grande amor está a lhe ver?

Somente esperando, para poder lhe ver,
E com flores te receber,
Será que ela ira conseguir equilibrar está paixão?

Não fará ela do coração, Picadeiro, linha e canção,
Como uma linda artista, vivendo uma paixão,
Conseguirá ela, pairar no ar, sem te ver,
Equilibrando mais um coração?
Pablo Danielli

These are days impossible

These are days impossible

No time to heal,

Tears that wash

And that hatred lasts.




There is no smiling

That persists!

Goodness that does not fail,

Night without jealousy.




And all sun

He has left

Insists on living

In a hurry!




Pablo Danielli

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

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
Lippe-Service,
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