Welcome to Daedalus' Labyrinth

This blog has been created with the intention of posting online some ideas, points of view, histories, stories, tales and anything else that its creators want to write about.

The posts will be signed as from "Daedalus" or from "Uranus", therefore, differenciation will be easily noticed.

Wednesday, June 10, 2015

I'm glad you're not burning for me - мне нравится что вы больны не мной


I'm glad you're not burning for me

I'm glad I'm not burning for you
As we step upon the heavy Earth,
Its solidness shall never drift beneath us.
I'm glad I don't have to flirt,
That I can be relaxed with no need for word plays,
No suffocating blush, no calculated moves
After accidentally touching our sleeves or randomly eye gazing.
...
I thank you from the bottom of my heart; 
For you -- whether you know it or not! -- 
love me; for peaceful nights of sleep,
For our few dates in twilight dimness,
For not walking under the moonlight, 
For the rising Sun we will never witness,
For the fact that I -- alas! -- am not burning for you,
For fact that you -- alas! -- are not burning for me..


Translation - readaptation of:

мне нравится что вы больны не мной  - original (literally translated into English) text by: Евгения Саркисьянц.


Мне нравится, что Вы больны не мной,
Мне нравится, что я больна не Вами,
Что никогда тяжелый шар земной
Не уплывет под нашими ногами.
Мне нравится, что можно быть смешной
Распущенной-и не играть словами,
И не краснеть удушливой волной,
Слегка соприкоснувшись рукавами

Мне нравится еще, что Вы при мне
Спокойно обнимаете другую,
Не прочите мне в адовом огне
Гореть за то, что я не Вас целую.
Что имя нежное мое, мой нежный, не
Упоминаете ни днем ни ночью — всуе...
Что никогда в церковной тишине
Не пропоют над нами: аллилуйя!

Спасибо Вам и сердцем и рукой

За то, что Вы меня — не зная сами! —
Так любите: за мой ночной покой,
За редкость встреч закатными часами,
За наши не-гулянья под луной,
За солнце не у нас на головами,
За то, что Вы больны — увы! — не мной,
За то, что я больна — увы! — не Вами.


Thursday, April 30, 2015

All Things Bloom in Spite of Us

You, reader, human or highly developed dolphin. Have you noticed that sometimes when you're having the shittiest day, the Sun shines in the sky and birds sing mash-ups and even bees seem to be having fun?


I think it's something between a mockery and a poetic life lesson. I mean, God must be too bored to be willing to teach us whatever without being a huge pain in the ass or without making us (especially me) cry in outraged Spanish.



Let's make a list of situations:

- you just got fired, yet there are no clouds in the sky and your closest friends are bragging about traveling to a place you've always dreamed to visit but which you won't be able to afford because you just god fired.

- or, more like me, you're in a moral hangover in the middle of spring. Your closest friends and current special one are moving abroad within a few months (or even less), you're in angst because you don't know whether you should graduate in time or take things easier... but you could just take things easier if you weren't dying to get a job and become fully financially independent, plus you don't know where the hell you're going to be two years from now, and let's just make it clear you're not the homecoming kind.

End of the list

So, to whomever it may concern, a moral hangover is very similar to the one related to alcohol. Your head aches, your stomach aches, your sleep schedules get f*cked up and so does your stamina to get through the day. Also, according  to Urban Dictionary: a feeling of intense regret and personal worthlessness.



The thing is that, notwithstanding it all, everything blossoms, blooms and perishes around you in spite of you. I may be feeling like shit, sort of stressed and feeling cast aside, but I still have to study, work, dress up, eat, do right, see my friends and be more thankful for what I do got.

There's a song I like which says something like: "If we pulled the alarm for personal matters, no trains would ever run".

So there you are, defeated, second best, looking like you got run over by a truck, all out of luck and faith in people. Maybe the flowers, rapping birds, workaholic bees, relatively warm weather and a fair bright side to things are there for a reason. Well, you, unlikely like me, might think the universe should know better and just teach those stupid lessons to someone like Paris Hilton (whose life is awesome and pretty much like my dream of living on tanning by the pool, eating sushi and traveling around more often), but instead the universe is trying to teach those lessons to you, or maybe you're just as odd as I am for thinking it works that way, or that Karma might actually exist.

In conclusion, just dust yourself off, say sashay away to your sorrow and remember pressure makes diamonds.







Monday, April 6, 2015

Quiçá

O que eu vejo em você
Só em você eu vejo

mas não tenho certeza
que você mereça
que eu escreva por escrever

uma prosa, um poema
ou uma história bem clichê

eu tenho medo das coisas darem certo
e depois darem errado

de mostrar demais e me sentir enganado

eu quero você perto, mesmo tão longe assim
por isso mantenho você distante
pra que queira ficar bem perto de mim


Tuesday, February 10, 2015

Fantasie Impromptu

Still alive
And something burns through my veins
Something instinctive
Micromanaging
Aggressive, dominant, hideously beautiful
I am my own rival
I cannot read your mind
I cannot decode your thoughts
micromanaging circumstances
acting in false submission
will my perfume draw your attention
so will my eyes? lips? hair? skin?
will your saliva slide down my throat?
sweetest venom, priceless victory
I am craving passionately
to see if the pieces of our puzzle will come together
will they fit?
will I despise you?
will you avoid me?
will we leave the puzzle undone?
will we dance around mechanical lights
like moths drawn to the same flame
your name is written on my wings
you are reflected on my many eyes
but I can but glimpse you
the light of my feelings is too bright
it nearly blinds me
Will I prove myself wrong trying to prove myself right?
delightful be the meantime