Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Come live with me and be my love
Christopher Marlowe

Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
Woods or steepy mountain yields.

And we will sit upon the rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;

A gown made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of th purest gold;

A belt of straw and ivy buds,
With coral clasps and amber studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me and be my love.

The shepherds' swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love.

The Passionate Shepherd to His Love
Christopher Marlowe

I Am Not Yours

Poem lyrics of I Am Not Yours by Sarah Teasdale.

I am not yours, not lost in you,
Not lost, although I long to be
Lost as a candle lit at noon,
Lost as a snowflake in the sea.

You love me, and I find you still
A spirit beautiful and bright,
Yet I am I, who long to be
Lost as a light is lost in light.

Oh plunge me deep in love - put out
My senses, leave me deaf and blind,
Swept by the tempest of your love,
A taper in a rushing wind.

Saturday, November 11, 2006

Prayer to St. Catherine

St Catherine, St. Catherine, O lend me thine aide,
And grant that I never may die an old maid.

A husband, St. Catherine,
A good one, St. Catherine;
But arn-a-one better than
Narn-a-one, St. Catherine.

Sweet St. Catherine,
A husband, St. Catherine,
Handsome, St. Catherine,
Rich, St. Catherine.


Thursday, November 09, 2006


"Pensa numa estrela devagar,
Escuta a voz da vida, meu amor.
O mundo inteiro é teu,
não ha lugar,
a mais ninguém em mim,
seja onde for."

Monday, November 06, 2006

Fazer um céu com pouco a gente faz;
basta uma estrela,
uma estrela e nada mais.
Pra ter na mão o mundo,
basta uma ilusão.
Um grão de areia,
é o mundo em nossa mão;
Sonhar é dar à vida nova cor
dar gosto bom às lágrimas de dor.
O sol pode apagar, o mar perder a voz;
Mas nunca morre um sonho dentro de nós.

Mário Lago