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Very slowly,
very gently,
very sweetly,
a slow song.

I want my time,
in the soft calm,
to hear a song,
that doesn't have to rush.

I looked back, and I discovered,
that everything I wished for, I had,
small wishes that were fulfilled.

In the miracle of having everything I wished for,
in that river that now carries happy pain,
in the beautiful music of living by a miracle.

Now I just want to hear my song slowly,
a tiny song, that is like a river.
A small river, of a small life,
a soundtrack, of the day to day.

Amid the hustle and bustle in my life,
a little parsimony,
let's calm our lives.

Let's listen a little,
to the silence of the soul,
that echoes within us,
in this song.

Simple song,
slow, very slow.
Song of life,
miracle of everything,
of hearing the heartbeats,
the sound of my river,
is the blood of living.


----
https://soundcloud.com/carlos-863906007/vidnoz_aisong-2025-08-3
NON SONO IL TUO FIUME

https://soundcloud.com/carlos-863906007

Non conosci il mio dolore,
non sono il tuo fiume,
lasciami.
Lascia,
lascia che io soffra,
lascia che il mio fiume scorra,
non sono il tuo fiume, non sono te.
Dimentica,
dimentica ogni cosa mia,
lascia che me ne vada lontano,
lontano da tutto, e che affoghi.
Lasciate che affoghi nella vita,
lasciate che tutto continui,
nel fiume sinuoso.
Non sono tuo,
lascia che il mio fiume continui,
lascia che il mio fiume scorra libero,
lascia che affoghi nelle sue acque.
Lascia che canti,
che canti in italiano,
che faccia le cose sbagliate, sono mie.
Lascia che abbia la mia vita.
Voglio sbagliare
la mia vita è così,
affogherò,
e sopravvivrò.
E il fiume scorrerà,
un altro giorno in calma,
dopo la tempesta,
delle mie acque.
È il mio fiume,
non sono il tuo fiume,
non sono tuo,
nel mio fiume.
vivo ancora,
vivo,
E se soffro,
è un bene,
perché così mi sento.
Mi sento così vivo galleggiando,
nella mia corrente d'acque
nelle acque del mio fiume,
che va e viene,
e se affogo,
tornerò a galla,
più forte,
Il dolore,
è parte,
di me.,
E poi,
canterò,
riderò forse.
nel mio fiume vivo.
E se canto, è un bene,
questa è la mia canzone d'acque,
acqua dei miei fiumi nelle mie vene.
Questo è il fiume della canzone della mia vita.



----

No sabes mi dolor,

no soy tu río,

déjame.

Deja,

deja que sufra,

deja que mi río corra,

no soy tu río, no soy tú.

Olvida,

olvida todo lo mío,

deja que me vaya lejos,

lejos de todo, y me ahogue.

Dejad que me hunda en la vida,

dejad que todo continúe,

en el río sinuoso.

No soy tuyo,

deja que siga mi río,

deja que corra mi río libre,

deja que me ahogue en sus aguas.

Deja que cante,

que cante en italiano,

que haga mal las cosas, son mías.

Deja que tenga mi vida.

Quiero equivocarme

es mi vida así,

me ahogaré,

y sobreviviré.

Y el río correrá,

otro día en calma,

tras la tempestad,

de mis aguas.

Es mi río,

no soy tu río,

no soy tuyo,

En mi río.

aun vivo,

vivo,

Y si sufro,

eso es bueno,

porque así me siento.

Me siento tan vivo flotando,

en mis corriente de agas

en las aguas de mi río,

que va y viene,

y si me ahogo,

saldré a flote,

más fuerte,

El dolor,

es parte,

de mí.,

Y luego,

cantaré,

reiré quizás.

en mi río vivo.

Y si cantó, es bueno,

esta es mi canción de aguas,

agua de mis ríos en mis venas.

Este es el río de la canción de mi vida.

....

I AM NOT YOUR RIVER

You don't know my pain,
I am not your river,
let me be.
Let,
let me suffer,
let my river run,
I am not your river, I am not you.
Forget,
forget everything about me,
let me go far away,
far from everything, and drown.
Let me drown in life,
let everything continue,
in the winding river.
I am not yours,
let my river follow its course,
let my river run free,
let me drown in its waters.
Let me sing,
sing in Italian,
do things badly, they are mine.
Let me have my life.
I want to make mistakes
my life is this way,
I will drown,
and I will survive.
And the river will run,
another day in calm,
after the storm,
of my waters.
It is my river,
I am not your river,
I am not yours,
in my river.
I am still alive,
alive,
And if I suffer,
that is good,
because that is how I feel.
I feel so alive floating,
in my current of waters
in the waters of my river,
that comes and goes,
and if I drown,
I will float back up,
stronger,
The pain,
is part,
of me.,
And then,
I will sing,
I will laugh perhaps.
in my living river.
And if I sing, it is good,
this is my song of waters,
water of my rivers in my veins.
This is the river of the song of my life.

---

28- VIII -2025

---
Moments of Gold


In the heat of summer, warm skin.
In the cold of winter, among skins.
In the twilight of everyone's days,
day by day, floating in the gold of living.
In the spring of each day, walking,
among galaxies, among the air of the days.
In the autumn, among the leaves that fly,
between the cold and the heat, unwrapped,
opening the days to discover treasures.
Uncovering the gold that is in everything,
in every season everything vibrates for us,
golden moments to discover.
That time that engulfs and devours us,
those days with moments to discover.
Navigating the gold of being alive,
in the gold of knowing how to discover treasures,
in the chest of each day, pure gold.
In every season, everything to enjoy,
transmuting the days into richness,
the richness of turning everything into gold.
Golden days, precious moments,
in the magic of knowing how to look,
looking beyond the surfaces.
Beyond the limits, flying over,
climbing in the knowledge of living.
Transforming life into liquid gold.
Reconverting everything into treasures,



----

26 - VIII - 2025
STRANGER

Extraterrestrial,
earthling of the world.
Traveler of galaxies,
in my Martian world.
Stranger to myself,
foreigner everywhere.
Pilgrim of life itself,
being of who-knows-where, one,
from nowhere through the world.
Without any country, without roots,
stranger of the globe,
small world.
Foreigner,
stranger to one,
a stranger to myself.
Without an effective nationality,
I am from where I go, without roots.
A strange feeling of not being,
I am from nowhere and everywhere,
born in a country that is not mine.
My country is the world, the entire globe.
My world is the limitless universe,
a navigator through the firmament.
Stranger to myself,
I still don't know who I am,
a strange lunatic,
Martian.
LOVE IN LETTERS

It's hard to live without love,
but sometimes there are miracles.
Feel the cloud of my love,
that sweet and vaporous love.
Let me whisper love to you,
let it be very heavy,
and fill you with my sweet love.
Open your soul and feel me,
between the lines, I will be there,
you and I, and my cloud of love.
A cloying love for you,
love shared in letters.
Poems that melt away,
words to make you fall in love.
That breeze that will fill everything,
hearts that find each other.
Connecting souls, in the air,
in the little heaven of love,
Poems to imagine clouds,
in the sky of love, words,
created and thought to love you.
Discover my secret passion,
you and I alone, always together.
Traveling through verses in love,
in overflowing torrents of love,
between you and me, the secret of love.
In letters, in wrapped whispers,
that love always at hand,
in the moon of love and stars.
Poems to create the magic,
in the fantasy of softness,
Let yourself float in sweet love,
in the softness of feathers,
feathers of love that fly.
Spread your wings and rise to love,
between words and suns, love.
Love in spilled drops,
in my letters for you, my love,
my still unknown love.


-----
AMOR EN LETRAS

Es duro sin vivir sin el amor,
pero a veces hay milagros.
Siente la nube de mi amor,
ese dulce y vaporoso amor.
Deja que te susurre amor,
deja que sea muy pesado,
y te llené de mi dulce amor.
Abre tu alma y siénteme,
entre líneas ahi voy a estar,
tú y yo, y mi nube de amor.
Amor empalagoso para ti,
amor compartido en letras.
Poemas que se deshacen,
palabras para enamorarte.
Esa brisa que lo llenará todo,
corazones que se encuentran.
Conectando alma, en el aire,
en el pequeño cielo del amor,
Poemas para imaginar nubes,
en el cielo del amor, palabras,
creadas pensadas para amarte.
Descubre mi pasión secreta,
tú y yo solos, siempre juntos.
Recorriendo versos enamorados,
en torrentes derramados de amor,
entre tú y yo, el secreto del amor.
En letras, en susurros envueltos,
ese amor que siempre a mano,
en  la luna del amor y estrellas.
Poemas para crear  la magia,
en la fantasía de la suavidad,
Déjate flotar en el dulce amor,
en la suavidad de las plumas,
plumas del amor que vuelan.
Saca tus alas  y sube al amor,
entre palabras y soles, amor.
Amor en gotas derramadas,
en mis letras para ti, mi amor,
mi amor desconocido aún.


----
https://youtu.be/g5bvjUrVObk?si=S9eTAA4FYm9L6UX2

Smokey Robinson - Just To See Her
STRANGELY

Unusual freedom, between walls, between wires,
illuminating poems from a strange mind.
In the joy of navigating thoughts,
without fears, without fears of anything, between walls.
Among thorns, in the free air of the stars,
among brambles, in the disorder, the chaos of living.
No rules for composing, in indifference,
in one's own norms to achieve freedom.
Strange mind in unknown territories.
In the tireless search to reach something more,
that something in the prison of living, in my freedom.
Without fear of the precipice, of my infinite abyss,
at the trigger of the final days of everything.
Between words that are born and remade within me,
in thoughts that fly free on waves.
Like a wingless bird with the miracle of flying,
in the tireless rhythm of beating in the worlds,
those worlds of my own in the world of others.
Strange life, after returning to the protected reality,
wrapped in cotton, with thorns and barbs on the fence.
Walking in the dazzling sun of the world,
anywhere and at any moment, soaring,
among flashes and sparks of being reborn each day.
A Romantic Story

Between brushes, between birds,
life unfolds.
In a place far from everyone's sight.
Among poems of the sea,
on solid ground.
Life,
that life,
that goes away,
in the heat,
of August.
In the summer,
in the sun's heat,
he has a life,
a secret life,
that no one
imagines.
The world,
between walls,
is the life of that man,
a failed,
rich man,
immaterial,
he has everything,
of everything,
and of nothing.
He asks for no more,
with his animals,
that's enough for him, with a walk,
down winding paths.
So much work to be nothing,
getting poorer and happier,
he consumes yesterday's wealth,
happy with the little road left to travel.
A romantic life of love and flowers,
where life is a pure dream,
among delicate poems,
a sublime life,
in misery.
In the end he goes,
the door,
closed,
and no one
felt it.
A failure,
a romantic life,
a dreamer,
now far from everyone,
and finally he flew, without suffering,
to a better place still.
And he never returned,
the sweet dream
of death.
A dead poet,
who wasn't even a poet,
nor lived reality.
And the walls,
closed,
and no one,
returned,
there.
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