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 ESPAÑOL PORTUGUÊS |
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It’s a fever of the soul
It’s a body suffering
for love.
It’s the madness that cools down,
moves and eats.
It’s the Anguish, the wish,
that involves the pleasure.
A violent tumor,
that kills and absorbs.
A rebellion
that doesn’t go.
It’s a never-ending try
to stop a hunger.
It’s an illness, it’s misunderstanding.
It’s the end of the meaning.
It’s love without destiny,
that hurt love.
A restrained passion.
It’s the whole pleasure,
once more in a refrain.
It’s to bring out the wound.
It’s to be born again in summer.
NotE: From the book Bolas de Sabão ( Soap Bubbles) and Diário de Uma Jovem em Israel ( Diary of a Young Woman in Israel) by Beti Rozen.
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