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Someday, Paris

poetry, dance and love. How incomprehensible! And yet they are fed bits of beauty that every day. Sometimes seek perfect love, the perfect poem, perfect motion, but all that eludes us. There are those perfect eternal, but only those moments of beauty and perfection: a crane, breaking the blue sky and the moon in the afternoon, hanging wires and two birds standing on them, the static flight of hummingbirds, the patience of a cat against its prey, the precision of one word with another. This will form the sentences of my life, full of moments of pure perfection, the rest are just ideas.

And yet, unable to translate this poem "perfect" ("perfect for what? Perfect for whom?) I found a rare jewel as it does today, but perfect, it should be. Today nothing is out of place, everything is beautiful, now the sun shines and the moon rises in the east, is now perfect. And although the physical absence of someone to grieve, but the hugs and kisses not materialize, today is perfect.

Paris someday be ours. Dance till you drop. For now there remains only a memory. E infinite thanks for sharing your moments of beauty. E ste you want is a real moment, as 12 years ago, and within many more.

Dance me to the end of love

by Leonard Cohen (song)

Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin.

Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in.

Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove.

Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to the end of love

let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone.

let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon.

show me slowly what I only know the limits of.

Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on.

Dance me very tenderly and dance me very long.

We're both of us beneath our love, we're both of us above.

Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to the children who are asking to be born.

Dance me through the curtains that our kisses have outworn.

Raise a tent of shelter now, though every thread is torn.

Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin.

Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in.

Touch me with your naked hand or touch me with your glove.

Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to the end of love