Zia

Zia was the last survivor of a small village of the Inca people, in the middle of the jungle in Peru.

Since the day she was alone, Zia continued to make her quipus tellin' her story, the story of her village, not knowing who would read it.

The young maid and the cigarrette...

Once upon a time, there was this maid.
She was sittin' in a bar smokin' this long cigarrette.
People stood by, stared at her..
But there she was, just smokin', probably not noticin' them.
All the way she smoked her long cigarrette very slowly, like she did every day.
Her hair was blonde and her eyes so beautiful... The boys and even the girls fell for her looks.
But she wasn't lookin' at them. She was just lookin'.
I bet she probably was about 30. But no one ever knew.
One day, the maid who used to smoke the long cigarrette met a girl, her name was Lucy.
Since the day the maid met Lucy, she was a different person. She started to talk to people, sayin' goodbye and hello. She not only looked at people passin' by, but also smiled at them.
No one could see it, but the maid was in love.
Lucy used to sit in front of her every day, at the same hour.
She just looked at the maid, smiled at her and held her hands in theirs.
Poor Lucy had gone one day. As she came she had gone.
And the maid stopped talkin' again, her eyes lost their shinin' and she wasn't able ever again to smile.
Now the poor maid cried every day...
No one seemed to care about her.. And there she stood, forgotten, every day, smokin' her long cigarrette.

Sombras de outrora...

Sombras de outrora hoje acordadas em mim.
Sou quem fui, um ser que ainda não esqueci.
Amo, amei, mas sinto-me sozinha.
Hoje as sombras, mostraram-me que estou só.
Sonho com alguém que até hoje não chegou. Sonho, anseio, mas essa pessoa virá?
Estou farta de esperar, houve alturas em que deixei de sonhar.
Há alturas em que não desespero, em que nem penso nisso, mas hoje aqui estou eu a desesperar por alguém...
E esse alguém teima em não aparecer, em fazer companhia ao meu ser.
Desespero por não ter esse alguém do meu lado. Quero tanto, preciso tanto desse amor..
Sentir aquele carinho, que vejo os outros sentirem, tudo me passa ao lado, tudo.
E começo a desesperar, sinto que a minha sombra vagueia por caminhos onde os outros não passam..
Porque estou eu sozinha, eu que preciso tanto de alguém? ...
Queria um abraço, um passar as mãos pelo cabelo, o ficar horas a olhar para a profundidade dos seus olhos..
E escrevo e sinto, como se tudo isto já se tivesse passado comigo, mas não se passou..
E sinto essa falta.. algo que não tem outro modo de se compensar.

18 de Julho de 2007