Speak up Your MIND

Our life is twofold; Sleep hath its own world, A boundary between the things misnamed Death and existence: Sleep hath its own world, And a wide realm of wild reality, And dreams in their development have breath, And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy; They leave a weight upon our waking thoughts, They take a weight from off waking toils, They do divide our being; they become A portion of ourselves as of our time, And look like heralds of eternity; They pass like spirits of the past—they speak Like sibyls of the future; they have power— The tyranny of pleasure and of pain; They make us what we were not—what they will, And shake us with the vision that's gone by, The dread of vanished shadows—Are they so? Is not the past all shadow?—What are they? Creations of the mind?—The mind can make Substances, and people planets of its own With beings brighter than have been, and give A breath to forms which can outlive all flesh. -George (Lord) Byron [complete

This one is dedicated to one great city -Lisbon and also to lots of those foreigners who have been here and stayed way longer than they had planned. With love and regards to the great city!! And also one great poem that i just found by Fernando Pessoa O que me dói não é O que há no coração Mas essas coisas lindas Que nunca existirão… São as formas sem forma Que passam sem que a dor As possa conhecer Ou as sonhar o amor. São como se a tristeza Fosse árvore e uma a uma, Caíssem suas folhas Entre o vestígio e a bruma *** What hurts me is not What is in the heart But those beautiful things Which will never be. They are the forms without form That go by without pain Being able to know Or love to dream them They are as if sadness Were a tree and one by one, Its leaves were falling Between the trace and the mist.