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"masi" poems
Sons of the soil. Daughters of the soil. Wake up and rejoice, for its the day of your heritage. Celebrate your culture, for it is your privilege. You are Africa, Africa is you. A nation so diverse and true. A real rainbow nation. Deeply rooted in our tradition. Nna ke mo Tswana, ebile ke motlotlo ka bo Tswana bame. Nna ke mo Pedi, ebile ka ikgantsha ka go nna mo Pedi. Mna ndi ngum Xhosa, ubona nje, ndiyazi dla ngo buXhosa bam. Mina ngi ngum Zulu qobo, futhi ngiyazi qhenya. On this day, remember who you are. On this day, commemorate who you are. Take pride in your true identity. Let there be peace and serenity. In South Africa our land. Together may we all stand. Le ga ole moTswana wa Afrika. Noba ungu m'Xhosa wase Afrika. Le ha ole mo Sotho wa Afrika Borwa. Are rataneng. Masi thandaneni. On this day, speak your mother tounge. On this day, sing your clan song. A moTswana eme a kgibe. UmXhosa maka phakame axhentse. UmZulu maka sukume agide. A moPedi a emelle bine. Sons of the soil. Daughters of the soil. Wake up and rejoice, for its the day of your heritage. Celebrate your culture, for it is your privilege.
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Sep 24, 2019
Sep 24, 2019 at 5:57 AM UTC
Happy Heritage Day South Africa
Atomori mi, Like any iyawo eyan, girlfriend eni, aburo eni, ore eni, ololufe eni yan, olugboran okan eni, my expectations for you are so high, lofty and grandoise! I have however grown to learn that my commitment to you cannot be hinged on attainments or by anyone. So regardless of whoever that doesnt accept you, or how high you fly, how far you go, or how much you accoomplish. Females might have walked away for a reason or two, but you can be rest assured that I Adebola will always be at your corner, cheering you on. Owo le masi, but fulfilling happiness I can offer with good food for your belly and your thought, Ko si ikan ti ole yawa, ju iku ati yourself (ara e). I have your back anytime; anyday. Also, I have grown to trust you,and that my sweet is one key to a successful relationship. With every beat of my life; Olatokunbo Gabriel Atomori Awoga, you are all I love ♡♡♡♡ {WEBOMLYAAIL} I adore, love and cherish you! Happy New Year, ife mi ! Debola Oluyomi copyright © 2014
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Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 11:19 AM UTC
A note of Love to my man!
golden threads this autumn bears waves of thin despair at your iron door Show Time, says Fosse, heart on the floor when sunlit window gently flares a crispy wind, a frivolous sunrise oh, dance along, your fragile neck so white Show Time, says Fosse, aglow with light please, dance with me, and look into my eyes golden threads this autumn bears in every leaf, in every grain of dust Show Time, says Fosse, it's my final lust melancholy's dripping venom deadly glares. "Autunno, se vuoi cogliere la frutta della mia anima, ti prego di non esaurire ancora il sole, il filo d'oro della vita, il filo d'oro della danza." - Gianluca Masi, known as the Dancing Alchemist, Firenze, the second half of the XVI-th century
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Nov 4, 2021
Nov 4, 2021 at 6:25 PM UTC
golden threads
Atomori mi,                  Like any iyawo eyan, girlfriend eni, aburo eni, ore eni, ololufe eni yan, olugboran okan eni, my expectations for you are so high, lofty and grandoise! I have however grown to learn that my commitment to you cannot be hinged on attainments or by anyone ( ko si eni ke ni ).  So regardless of whoever that doesn't accept you, or how high you fly, how far you go, or how much you accomplish. Women might have walked away for a reason or two, but you can be rest assured that I Adebola will always be at your corner, cheering you on. Owo le masi, but fulfilling happiness I can offer with good food for that of your belly and thought, Ko si ikan ti ole yawa, ju iku ati yourself (ara e). I have your back anytime; any day. Also, I have grown to trust you,and that my sweet is one key to a successful relationship. With every beat of my life; Olatokunbo Gabriel Atomori Awoga, you are all I love ♡♡♡♡ {WEBOMLYAAIL} I adore, love and cherish you!  Always & Forever is our logo, isn't it??? Happy New Year, ife mi ! Opemipo "Debola Oluyomi" Oluwole copyright © 2014
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Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 11:34 AM UTC
A note of love for him
terbalas pertemuan singkat tadi siang dengan sedikit berdebah dengan ego malu menukik dan gemetar beramai gaduh sulit juga, berjuang dengan lara yang kian runyam kian dalam kian menepis dalam malam aku yakin dia bertanya "kenapa dia?" haha.. apa aku harus jawab aku rindu aku rindu seperti dulu bukan apa-apa tidak ada lugas kata atau tindakannya hanya saja aku sudah terlajur menyukainya menyukai derap langkahnya lemah gemulai tubuhnya beradu dengan udara sekitar aku juga suka saat matanya bertemu dengan mataku sisi lainnya muncul lebih hangat dari yang kubayangkan bolehkah juga aku berseru ? aku menyukaimu ! sangat.. lungai sudah jika itu terucap pasrah.. tapi tenang, aku masi pandai menyimpan masih pandai menukik ego tapi tetap aku rindu,.,.,.,. -rindu,mengenang-
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May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 12:18 PM UTC
Rindu
Risveglio Nel risveglio della mente, trovo la pace che cercavo da sempre. Ogni pensiero si dissolve nel vento, ogni parola si perde nel silenzio. Eppure, nel cuore, c’è una verità che non ha bisogno di essere detta. Perché nel risveglio, ci si incontra davvero, nel profondo. — Masi Roberto © 2025 --- Awakening In the awakening of the mind, I find the peace I had always sought. Every thought dissolves in the wind, every word is lost in silence. And yet, within the heart, there is a truth that needs no words to be spoken. For in awakening, we truly meet, in the depths. — Masi Roberto © 2025
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Sep 27, 2025
Sep 27, 2025 at 5:16 AM UTC
Risveglio / Awakening
Quando il cuore pesa Quando il cuore pesa e i giorni sembrano vuoti, ricorda che anche il cielo si veste a volte di nuvole scure. Non sei solo nel silenzio, la tua voce è un filo sottile che ancora lega la vita alla luce che non smette mai di brillare. Ogni respiro è un passo, ogni lacrima un seme: dentro al dolore cresce una nuova speranza. Non avere fretta, la vita fiorisce piano. E nel tuo cuore stanco c’è già il germoglio del domani. Masi Roberto © 2025 --- When the Heart Feels Heavy When the heart feels heavy and days seem empty, remember that even the sky sometimes wears dark clouds. You are not alone in silence, your voice is a fragile thread that still ties life to a light that never ceases to shine. Each breath is a step, each tear a seed: within the sorrow a new hope begins to grow. Do not be in haste, life blossoms slowly. And in your weary heart the seed of tomorrow is already there. Masi Roberto © 2025
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Sep 22, 2025
Sep 22, 2025 at 6:18 PM UTC
Quando il cuore pesa / When the Heart Feels Heavy
Scrivo perché l’anima non conosce silenzi, perché l’amore e il dolore diventano parole. I write because the soul cannot remain silent, because love and pain become words. Ogni verso è un cammino, ogni parola un respiro che cerca di incontrare cuori e occhi lontani. Each verse is a journey, each word a breath seeking to meet hearts and distant eyes. Se queste poesie parlano a te, sappi che il mio viaggio vive anche in libri che custodiscono le stesse voci. If these poems speak to you, know that my path also lives in books that guard the same voices. 📖 [Amazon – Roberto Masi](https://www.amazon.com/Roberto-Masi/e/B0F8QZ997M) Masi Roberto © 2025
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Sep 19, 2025
Sep 19, 2025 at 1:56 PM UTC
La mia voce / My Voice
Untuk yang merindukan Rumah, lebih dari apapun. Rumah bukan lah tentang bangunan, ruang, pintu-pintu yang kokoh, atau jendela-jendela yang ditata. Bukan tentang jenis kayu apa yang digunakan untuk pintu-pintu, jendela-jendela, entah itu jati, sigi atau mahoni. Ini tentang apa yang hidup di dalam sana. Aku pernah memiliki rumah, dan selalu ingin kembali pulang kesana, tapi seseorang yang memiliki peranan sangat penting di rumah, pergi meninggalkan, anggaplah ia sebagai jantungnya, dan ketika jantung tersebut sudah berhenti berdetak, mati lah yang akan kau temukan. Barangkali ia sudah menemukan rumah barunya, dan benar saja. Baginya aku dan ibu hanyalah tamu, dan kau tidak pernah benar-benar menerima tamu, mereka lalu lalang disana, ia menemukan rumah barunya, bukan aku bukan juga ibu. Saat aku berusaha sekuat tenaga untuk kembali pulang dan mengingat-ingat jalan menuju rumah, aku menemukannya, namun rumah itu sudah terkunci sangat rapat, aku megetuknya, tak juga si pemilik membukakan pintunya, beberapa waktu aku masi mencobanya, mungkin tidur di teras rumah ini dan berharap suatu waktu pintunya akan dibuka oleh sang pemilik, namun waktu yang ku tunggu itu tak pernah datang. Aku mencoba mengintip lewat jendela-jendela yang kokoh, aku melihat seorang anak kecil laki-laki berlarian di ruang tengah dekat perapian. Aku tersingkir. Hujan turun dengan derasnya, bukan dari langit, melainkan dari pelupuk mataku, sepertinya awan hitam menyelimuti seluruh ruang hatiku, aku tersadar bahwa ia sudah benar-benar pergi meninggalkan rumah lamanya, dan sudah benar-benar juga menemukan rumah barunya. Saat ini aku sedang mencoba untuk membangun rumah yang lebih kuat, kokoh, dan indah. Aku tidak akan kembali pulang atau kembali mengingat-ingat jalan menuju rumah lamaku. Aku akan membuatnya sendiri, dan semoga rumah baruku tidak pergi lagi.
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Apr 25, 2019
Apr 25, 2019 at 5:39 AM UTC
Rumah
Untuk yang merindukan Rumah, lebih dari apapun. Rumah bukan lah tentang bangunan, ruang, pintu-pintu yang kokoh, atau jendela-jendela yang ditata. Bukan tentang jenis kayu apa yang digunakan untuk pintu-pintu, jendela-jendela, entah itu jati, sigi atau mahoni. Ini tentang apa yang hidup di dalam sana. Aku pernah memiliki rumah, dan selalu ingin kembali pulang kesana, tapi seseorang yang memiliki peranan sangat penting di rumah, pergi meninggalkan, anggaplah ia sebagai jantungnya, dan ketika jantung tersebut sudah berhenti berdetak, mati lah yang akan kau temukan. Barangkali ia sudah menemukan rumah barunya, dan benar saja. Baginya aku dan ibu hanyalah tamu, dan kau tidak pernah benar-benar menerima tamu, mereka lalu lalang disana, ia menemukan rumah barunya, bukan aku bukan juga ibu. Saat aku berusaha sekuat tenaga untuk kembali pulang dan mengingat-ingat jalan menuju rumah, aku menemukannya, namun rumah itu sudah terkunci sangat rapat, aku megetuknya, tak juga si pemilik membukakan pintunya, beberapa waktu aku masi mencobanya, mungkin tidur di teras rumah ini dan berharap suatu waktu pintunya akan dibuka oleh sang pemilik, namun waktu yang ku tunggu itu tak pernah datang. Aku mencoba mengintip lewat jendela-jendela yang kokoh, aku melihat seorang anak kecil laki-laki berlarian di ruang tengah dekat perapian. Aku tersingkir. Hujan turun dengan derasnya, bukan dari langit, melainkan dari pelupuk mataku, sepertinya awan hitam menyelimuti seluruh ruang hatiku, aku tersadar bahwa ia sudah benar-benar pergi meninggalkan rumah lamanya, dan sudah benar-benar juga menemukan rumah barunya. Saat ini aku sedang mencoba untuk membangun rumah yang lebih kuat, kokoh, dan indah. Aku tidak akan kembali pulang atau kembali mengingat-ingat jalan menuju rumah lamaku. Aku akan membuatnya sendiri, dan semoga rumah baruku tidak pergi lagi.
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Poem (IT): ** amato anche nel dolore, quando il cuore tremava e le notti sembravano eterne. Ogni ferita era un’eco che bruciava in silenzio, ma nel silenzio nasceva una forza che non conoscevo. L’amore non cancella il dolore, lo attraversa, lo abbraccia, lo trasforma in memoria viva. E lì, dove piange l’anima, ** trovato la speranza: non promessa lontana, ma luce che resiste, fiamma che non si spegne. Così il dolore diventa ponte, e l’amore respiro, capace di rialzare anche chi credeva di essere caduto. Masi Roberto © 2025 Poem (EN): I loved even through pain, when the heart was shaking and nights felt endless. Each wound was an echo burning in silence, yet in that silence a strength I never knew was born. Love does not erase pain— it crosses it, embraces it, turns it into living memory. And there, where the soul weeps, I found hope: not a distant promise, but a light that endures, a flame that will not fade. Thus pain becomes a bridge, and love a breath, able to lift again even those who thought they had fallen. Masi Roberto © 2025
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Sep 20, 2025
Sep 20, 2025 at 5:57 AM UTC
Tra le ferite e la luce / Between Wounds and Light
My bubble gum Little plum Fountain of joy She's down With flu and a frown And a hesitant smile It's really hard Breaks my heart To see a little cub cry To endure suffering Crying, not lying but tossing In sheets of discomfort But her fervent eyes show She'll regain her glow Such a tiger, she is, at heart I adore souls like hers Loving, innocent, but terse Every hindrance she'd outsmart
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Aug 24, 2017
Aug 24, 2017 at 3:27 PM UTC
Masi's Angel
Crushed By The Weight of Truth Buried, Under the dusty rubble of fallen bricks From a condemned house of secrets Haunted by betrayal and fear That the skeletons of a heinous crime May fail to turn to dust Suffocated By a the silver electrical tape of pledge confidentiality I am bound to a rocking chair Outside of his empty closet facing the cracked window where the wrecking ball of posthumous justice Has lost its momentum Julia Masi
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Sep 18, 2025
Sep 18, 2025 at 1:25 PM UTC
Crushed By The Weight of His Secret
Il cuore tace, ma dentro urla forte. Ogni silenzio custodisce una verità nascosta. Non servono parole, basta uno sguardo, perché l’anima conosce ciò che la bocca non dice. Masi Roberto © 2025
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Sep 19, 2025
Sep 19, 2025 at 10:33 AM UTC
Il cuore tace
🇮🇹 Notte Buia Nella notte buia c’è chi crede di essere qualcuno, e chi invece si perde tra i silenzi infiniti. Quanti volti ** visto in questa oscurità, ombre di sogni già vissuti, già consumati. Eppure il buio tace, custodendo segreti che nessuna voce osa dire. Masi Roberto © 2025 --- 🇬🇧 Dark Night In the dark night some believe they are someone, while others get lost in endless silences. How many faces I have seen in this darkness, shadows of dreams already lived, already consumed. And yet the darkness is silent, guarding secrets that no voice dares to tell. Masi Roberto © 2025
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Sep 20, 2025
Sep 20, 2025 at 9:22 PM UTC
tte Buia / Dark Night
Masi Majangsisi Sain Noshogung Ni phrang Noh Yahong ha thaglakha.. Sainbili bo jaru phaikha Sain bo gama phairu kha, Noshkao Haa Gajao-Gurmu Khere-Khere Nojaru phaikha Dao-Daomi buthu bo Noshkao Haa Birhi-birhi thaglakha Khere-khere nokhoha khrip bo haprola phaikha Oda Horr Jalanglakha...
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Oct 22, 2020
Oct 22, 2020 at 4:45 AM UTC
Sainbli (Dimasa poem) by Shyamal Bodosa
ACH-NAH Gli uomini camminano liberi, tra il bene e il male, ognuno guida la propria vita senza comprendere il mistero. Il corpo soffre, l’anima custodisce, ma non è questo il loro compito: non sanno guarire, non sanno rivelare. Solo lo Spirito conosce, solo lo Spirito attende, e quando si risveglia si fa voce, si fa guida, si fa luce per l’anima smarrita. ACH-NAH non è parola, è la potenza che apre immensi mondi: chi l’ascolta troverà comprensione, guarigione, cammino. Masi Roberto © 2025 --- ACH-NAH (English Version) Humans walk in freedom, between good and evil, each one steering their own life without grasping the mystery. The body suffers, the soul contains, but this is not their task: they cannot heal, they cannot reveal. Only the Spirit knows, only the Spirit waits, and when it awakens it becomes voice, it becomes guide, it becomes light for the lost soul. ACH-NAH is not a word, it is the power that opens immense worlds: whoever listens to it will find understanding, healing, and a path. Masi Roberto © 2025
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Sep 24, 2025
Sep 24, 2025 at 3:12 PM UTC
ACH-NAH
La verità è sopravvalutata La verità è sopravvalutata: non sempre illumina, a volte acceca, a volte brucia. Ci sono verità che feriscono più di mille menzogne, parole che si dicono non per liberare, ma per colpire. Eppure, nel silenzio di un abbraccio o nello sguardo di chi ama, c’è una luce più sincera di qualsiasi confessione. Non sempre la verità salva: a volte è il cuore, a volte è il perdono, a volte è il semplice tacere a ridare respiro alla vita. Masi Roberto © 2025 --- Truth is Overrated Truth is overrated: it does not always enlighten, sometimes it blinds, sometimes it burns. There are truths that wound more than a thousand lies, words spoken not to free, but to strike. Yet, in the silence of an embrace or in the gaze of one who loves, there is a light more honest than any confession.
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Sep 23, 2025
Sep 23, 2025 at 6:17 AM UTC
La verità è sopravvalutata / Truth is Overrated
🇮🇹 Quando l’amore chiude il dolore Ci sono ferite che gridano in silenzio, ombre che abitano il cuore e sembrano non voler andar via. Ma l’amore arriva come carezza, non cancella il passato, lo fascia con mani di luce, lo trasforma in memoria che respira. Quando l’amore chiude il dolore, non è oblio ma rinascita: il pianto diventa seme, il vuoto si riempie di speranza, la notte si apre al giorno. — Masi Roberto © 2025 --- 🇬🇧 When Love Closes Pain There are wounds that scream in silence, shadows that dwell in the heart and seem unwilling to leave. But love comes like a caress, it does not erase the past, it wraps it with hands of light, it turns it into breathing memory. When love closes pain, it is not forgetting but rebirth: tears become seeds, emptiness fills with hope, the night opens to day. — Masi Roberto © 2025
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Sep 29, 2025
Sep 29, 2025 at 8:26 PM UTC
Quando l’amore chiude il dolore / When Love Closes Pain
I prefer my sisters' children to call me Maasi, Rather than aunt. Aunty can be anybody, Maasi specifies me, As mother's sister, And only a maasi can love like a mother. 28/2/2020
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Feb 28, 2020
Feb 28, 2020 at 2:31 PM UTC
Masi
I sit, the world around me a blur, Masi talks, but I’m lost in a stir. Then, the call—unexpected, sharp and bright, My heart leaps, racing into the night. Why her, why now? My thoughts collide, A hundred questions swirl, but none I can hide. Should I pick up? Should I dare? Her voice, her presence, it’s too much to bear. The call drops—disconnected, left to wonder, My heartbeat thunders like distant thunder. Then the text, a playful jest, "Yes, Your Highness," my chest does protest. She replies, “I need to show you something,” My pulse quickens, anticipation thumping. A mystery, a pull, but I can't resist, I pick up the phone, nervous, clenched fist. She speaks, her voice like an old, sweet song, And I hear laughter, where I belong. But there’s more—Her friend by her side, And their boyfriends, caught in the tide. My heart skips—Romantic rival stands, so near, And I can’t look away, trapped in fear. She tells him to shut up, her voice a command, And I watch, helpless, as life slips from my hand. She turns, showing her saree’s glow, A princess in pink, stealing my soul. And I ask, “Are you at Lawgate?” with a smile, She teases, “MBA,” for just a while. “I’ll come back too,” I say, trying to play, But inside I ache, like I’ve gone astray. Her image haunts me, her beauty remains, A moment lost, wrapped in chains. Her voice soft, “Later,” she says with a sigh, And I stand there, watching her leave, asking why. She’s with him now, and I’m here, lost, Her laughter echoes, my heart pays the cost. We never were, yet we shared it all, In the same PG, memories that call. The quiet nights, the shared glances, the unsaid truth, Now lost in time, like forgotten youth. Her image stays, as vivid as then, A beauty, a mystery, forever my friend. Yet she walks with him, and I stand apart, A stranger to her, with a broken heart. Her smile, her saree, the memories remain, But my heart races, lost in the pain. Romantic, yes, but sadistic too, For I loved her then, and still do.
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Apr 1, 2025
Apr 1, 2025 at 6:14 AM UTC
A sudden unexpected call.....
I sit, the world around me a blur, Masi talks, but I’m lost in a stir. Then, the call—unexpected, sharp and bright, My heart leaps, racing into the night. Why her, why now? My thoughts collide, A hundred questions swirl, but none I can hide. Should I pick up? Should I dare? Her voice, her presence, it’s too much to bear. The call drops—disconnected, left to wonder, My heartbeat thunders like distant thunder. Then the text, a playful jest, "Yes, Your Highness," my chest does protest. She replies, “I need to show you something,” My pulse quickens, anticipation thumping. A mystery, a pull, but I can't resist, I pick up the phone, nervous, clenched fist. She speaks, her voice like an old, sweet song, And I hear laughter, where I belong. But there’s more—Her friend by her side, And their boyfriends, caught in the tide. My heart skips—Romantic rival stands, so near, And I can’t look away, trapped in fear. She tells him to shut up, her voice a command, And I watch, helpless, as life slips from my hand. She turns, showing her saree’s glow, A princess in pink, stealing my soul. And I ask, “Are you at Lawgate?” with a smile, She teases, “MBA,” for just a while. “I’ll come back too,” I say, trying to play, But inside I ache, like I’ve gone astray. Her image haunts me, her beauty remains, A moment lost, wrapped in chains. Her voice soft, “Later,” she says with a sigh, And I stand there, watching her leave, asking why. She’s with him now, and I’m here, lost, Her laughter echoes, my heart pays the cost. We never were, yet we shared it all, In the same PG, memories that call. The quiet nights, the shared glances, the unsaid truth, Now lost in time, like forgotten youth. Her image stays, as vivid as then, A beauty, a mystery, forever my friend. Yet she walks with him, and I stand apart, A stranger to her, with a broken heart. Her smile, her saree, the memories remain, But my heart races, lost in the pain. Romantic, yes, but sadistic too, For I loved her then, and still do.
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Italiano C'è un silenzio che non grida, ma si vede. È negli occhi di chi ha amato troppo, di chi ha creduto che bastasse il cuore per non essere lasciato indietro. Uno sguardo che trattiene il cielo, ma che piange pioggia dentro, senza far rumore. La tristezza negli occhi non sempre chiede aiuto. A volte, vuole solo essere vista, senza domande, senza fretta. Perché chi porta luce spesso ha attraversato notti senza stelle. E quegli occhi, così stanchi e profondi, raccontano storie che le labbra non sanno più dire. — Masi Roberto © 2025 --- English There is a silence that doesn't scream, but can be seen. It lives in the eyes of those who loved too much, of those who believed that the heart alone could keep them from being left behind. A gaze that holds the sky, but cries rain within, without a sound. Sadness in the eyes doesn't always ask for help. Sometimes, it just wants to be seen, without questions, without haste. Because those who carry light have often walked through starless nights. And those eyes, so tired and deep, tell stories that lips can no longer speak. — Masi Roberto © 2025
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Oct 5, 2025
Oct 5, 2025 at 5:42 PM UTC
Tristezza negli occhi / Sadness in the Eyes
Masa dear, Your ever smiling, loving face I will always cherish. Assisting you during family ills, to them nourish In your cute ways your patients, you did admonish. And I enjoyed playing your secretary. Calling Soli Dad " mari chalti halti sugar factory"; And Khutu Mama, the Doc of your car. I shall always remember Masi n you as bright stars. Sarosh Yazad panahbaad Armin Dutia Motashaw
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Oct 7, 2019
Oct 7, 2019 at 3:10 PM UTC
Dr Hoshang Edibam