Love.... Italian Style

I really enjoyed reading your Pearl Jam related poem.... Thank you for sharing

cosa succede se si avesse toccato di più, baciato più, Love ... (More)
forse lei dovrebbe amato di più forte
appriciated l'unità
avrebbero durato più a lungo ....

Se lei aveva spesso detto "la sua voi che adoro
sareste ancora con lei
E se queste parole dovrebbero di stati parlate più ...

Se solo lei ti aveva trattato come migliori amici
forse il dolore di essere soli andrei strappare il suo cuore
come l'amore sbiadito - finisce finalmente ...

se solo lei non ha avuto da dire - "se solo" ...


what if you had touched more, kissed more, Love... ( more )
maybe she should of loved stronger
appreciated the unity
would they have lasted longer....

If she had often said to you " its you who I adore
would you still be with her now
what if those words should of been spoken more...

If only she had treated you as best friends
maybe the grief of being alone wouldn't tear her heart out
as love faded - it finally ends...

if only she didn't have to say - "if only"...

Agguato nel profondo, ombre che cercano di catturare
Non lasciarli nei pressi di non avvicinarsi
Tenuta a distanza, persistente e tentazioni ovunque
non è possibile, io non permette di controllare


Io sono la mia persona, importante, combattendo le mie battaglie
non mi ha mai sconfiggere, la sicurezza, la mia vita vale la pena di libertà
non più di reclusione .....



Lurking deep inside, shadows they try and capture
I won't let them near, do not approach
keeping distance, persistent and temptations everywhere
you can't, I won't let you control


I am my own person, important, fighting my own battles
never defeat me, security, my life is worth freedom
no longer imprisoned .....

by Roy Croft... 'To my Friend'

I love you, not for what you are, but what I am, when I am with you. I love you not only for what you have made of yourself, but what you are making of me. I love you for the part of me that you bring out.

I love you for putting your hand into my heaped up heart and passing over all the frivolous and weak things that you cannot help seeing there, and for drawing out into the light all the beautiful and radiant things that no one else has looked quite far enough to find...

I love you because you have done more than any creed could have done to make me good, and more than any fate could have done to make me happy.

You have done it without a touch, without a word, without a sign. You have done it by being yourself. Perhaps that is what being a friend means after all....

The Lady of Shalott....

Sung by - Loreena Mckennit ( words have been changed slightly from poem ) http://youtu.be/i52e-BKgrYk



The Lady of Shalott (1832) By Alfred, Lord Tennyson


On either side the river lie

Long fields of barley and of rye,

That clothe the wold and meet the sky;

And thro' the field the road runs by

To many-tower'd Camelot;

The yellow-leaved waterlily

The green-sheathed daffodilly

Tremble in the water chilly

Round about Shalott.


Willows whiten, aspens shiver.

The sunbeam showers break and quiver

In the stream that runneth ever

By the island in the river

Flowing down to Camelot.

Four gray walls, and four gray towers

Overlook a space of flowers,

And the silent isle imbowers

The Lady of Shalott.


Underneath the bearded barley,

The reaper, reaping late and early,

Hears her ever chanting cheerly,

Like an angel, singing clearly,

O'er the stream of Camelot.

Piling the sheaves in furrows airy,

Beneath the moon, the reaper weary

Listening whispers, ' 'Tis the fairy,

Lady of Shalott.'


The little isle is all inrail'd

With a rose-fence, and overtrail'd

With roses: by the marge unhail'd

The shallop flitteth silken sail'd,

Skimming down to Camelot.

A pearl garland winds her head:

She leaneth on a velvet bed,

Full royally apparelled,

The Lady of Shalott.


Part II

No time hath she to sport and play:

A charmed web she weaves alway.

A curse is on her, if she stay

Her weaving, either night or day,

To look down to Camelot.

She knows not what the curse may be;

Therefore she weaveth steadily,

Therefore no other care hath she,

The Lady of Shalott.


She lives with little joy or fear.

Over the water, running near,

The sheepbell tinkles in her ear.

Before her hangs a mirror clear,

Reflecting tower'd Camelot.

And as the mazy web she whirls,

She sees the surly village churls,

And the red cloaks of market girls

Pass onward from Shalott.


Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,

An abbot on an ambling pad,

Sometimes a curly shepherd lad,

Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad,

Goes by to tower'd Camelot:

And sometimes thro' the mirror blue

The knights come riding two and two:

She hath no loyal knight and true,

The Lady of Shalott.


But in her web she still delights

To weave the mirror's magic sights,

For often thro' the silent nights

A funeral, with plumes and lights

And music, came from Camelot:

Or when the moon was overhead

Came two young lovers lately wed;

I am half sick of shadows,' said

The Lady of Shalott.


Part III

A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,

He rode between the barley-sheaves,

The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,

And flam'd upon the brazen greaves

Of bold Sir Lancelot.

A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd

To a lady in his shield,

That sparkled on the yellow field,

Beside remote Shalott.


The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,

Like to some branch of stars we see

Hung in the golden Galaxy.

The bridle bells rang merrily

As he rode down from Camelot:

And from his blazon'd baldric slung

A mighty silver bugle hung,

And as he rode his armour rung,

Beside remote Shalott.


All in the blue unclouded weather

Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather,

The helmet and the helmet-feather

Burn'd like one burning flame together,

As he rode down from Camelot.

As often thro' the purple night,

Below the starry clusters bright,

Some bearded meteor, trailing light,

Moves over green Shalott.


His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;

On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;

From underneath his helmet flow'd

His coal-black curls as on he rode,

As he rode down from Camelot.

From the bank and from the river

He flash'd into the crystal mirror,

'Tirra lirra, tirra lirra:'

Sang Sir Lancelot.


She left the web, she left the loom

She made three paces thro' the room

She saw the water-flower bloom,

She saw the helmet and the plume,

She look'd down to Camelot.

Out flew the web and floated wide;

The mirror crack'd from side to side;

'The curse is come upon me,' cried

The Lady of Shalott.


Part IV

In the stormy east-wind straining,

The pale yellow woods were waning,

The broad stream in his banks complaining,

Heavily the low sky raining

Over tower'd Camelot;

Outside the isle a shallow boat

Beneath a willow lay afloat,

Below the carven stern she wrote,

The Lady of Shalott.


A cloudwhite crown of pearl she dight,

All raimented in snowy white

That loosely flew (her zone in sight

Clasp'd with one blinding diamond bright)

Her wide eyes fix'd on Camelot,

Though the squally east-wind keenly

Blew, with folded arms serenely

By the water stood the queenly

Lady of Shalott.


With a steady stony glance—

Like some bold seer in a trance,

Beholding all his own mischance,

Mute, with a glassy countenance—

She look'd down to Camelot.

It was the closing of the day:

She loos'd the chain, and down she lay;

The broad stream bore her far away,

The Lady of Shalott.


As when to sailors while they roam,

By creeks and outfalls far from home,

Rising and dropping with the foam,

From dying swans wild warblings come,

Blown shoreward; so to Camelot

Still as the boathead wound along

The willowy hills and fields among,

They heard her chanting her deathsong,

The Lady of Shalott.


A longdrawn carol, mournful, holy,

She chanted loudly, chanted lowly,

Till her eyes were darken'd wholly,

And her smooth face sharpen'd slowly,

Turn'd to tower'd Camelot:

For ere she reach'd upon the tide

The first house by the water-side,

Singing in her song she died,

The Lady of Shalott.


Under tower and balcony,

By garden wall and gallery,

A pale, pale corpse she floated by,

Deadcold, between the houses high,

Dead into tower'd Camelot.

Knight and burgher, lord and dame,

To the planked wharfage came:

Below the stern they read her name,

The Lady of Shalott.


They cross'd themselves, their stars they blest,

Knight, minstrel, abbot, squire, and guest.

There lay a parchment on her breast,

That puzzled more than all the rest,

The wellfed wits at Camelot.

'The web was woven curiously,

The charm is broken utterly,

Draw near and fear not,—this is I,

The Lady of Shalott.'

Kisses... sending angel kisses your way - someone who cares about you very much is sending you a kiss...
kissing has the power to heal, give you power and hope - just like a wonderful great big hug...

Takes away troubles ( at least for awhile ) :-*

quando meno te lo aspetti - cioè quando l'amore accade
i tuoi occhi caldi, la tua risata, la sincerità quando si parla di me ...
la gentilezza nel contatto, nel modo che mostri

come spiegare e apriamo, scopro più gioia e vita davanti
lentamente, senza saperlo - si sta trovando un posto nel mio cuore



when you least expect it - that is when love happens
your warm eyes, your laughter, the sincerity when you speak to me...
the kindness in your touch, the way you show it

as we unfold and open up, I discover more joy and life ahead
slowly without knowing - you are finding a place in my heart...


:-*