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He who ignores discipline despises himself, but whoever heeds correction gains understanding.

in Bible
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The Interpretation of Nature and

I.

MAN, being the servant and interpreter of Nature, can do and understand so much and so much only as he has observed in fact or in thought of the course of nature: beyond this he neither knows anything nor can do anything.


II.

Neither the naked hand nor the understanding left to itself can effect much. It is by instruments and helps that the work is done, which are as much wanted for the understanding as for the hand. And as the instruments of the hand either give motion or guide it, so the instruments of the mind supply either suggestions for the understanding or cautions.

III.

Human knowledge and human power meet in one; for where the cause is not known the effect cannot be produced. Nature to be commanded must be obeyed; and that which in contemplation is as the cause is in operation as the rule.

IV.

Towards the effecting of works, all that man can do is to put together or put asunder natural bodies. The rest is done by nature working within.

V.

The study of nature with a view to works is engaged in by the mechanic, the mathematician, the physician, the alchemist, and the magician; but by all (as things now are) with slight endeavour and scanty success.

VI.

It would be an unsound fancy and self-contradictory to expect that things which have never yet been done can be done except by means which have never yet been tried.

VII.

The productions of the mind and hand seem very numerous in books and manufactures. But all this variety lies in an exquisite subtlety and derivations from a few things already known; not in the number of axioms.

VIII.

Moreover the works already known are due to chance and experiment rather than to sciences; for the sciences we now possess are merely systems for the nice ordering and setting forth of things already invented; not methods of invention or directions for new works.

IX.

The cause and root of nearly all evils in the sciences is this -- that while we falsely admire and extol the powers of the human mind we neglect to seek for its true helps.

X.

The subtlety of nature is greater many times over than the subtlety of the senses and understanding; so that all those specious meditations, speculations, and glosses in which men indulge are quite from the purpose, only there is no one by to observe it.

XI.

As the sciences which we now have do not help us in finding out new works, so neither does the logic which we now have help us in finding out new sciences.

XII.

The logic now in use serves rather to fix and give stability to the errors which have their foundation in commonly received notions than to help the search after truth. So it does more harm than good.

XIII.

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Francis Bacon
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Bring Them Home(song)

verse1:
oh how I tried
to change this evil
that's taking over

too many crow
squawkin' freely
they have to go

we need to
take back the earth
and claim it for the humble

greedy hyenas
laughing with their money
creating more weaklings

the price of life
is too expensive
even the fittest will die

chorus1:
how can you ask
me to understand

your greedy tendencies
I am human too

your mistakes
need correction

need correction
need correction

verse 2:
what do you want
you need to be more practical

what do you need
it can't be greed

because you are sending life
bring them home

bring
them
home

bring
them

[...] Read more

poem by Cokbod Lodwogo
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Stuck In The Middle And Feeling Sad

What is it that you need,
To interrupt your love for suffering?

Do you need a lot of...
Discipline.
Would you like a little...
Motivation?

Stuck in the middle of indecision,
You lack motivation.
Stuck in the middle and feeling sad,
You lack a discipline

Stuck in the middle of indecision,
You lack motivation.
Stuck in the middle and feeling sad,
You lack a discipline.

What is it that you need,
To interrupt your love for suffering?

You're stuck in the middle of indecision,
You lack motivation.
You're stuck in the middle and feeling sad,
You lack a discipline.

Do you need a lot of...
Discipline.
Would you like a little...
Motivation?

What is it that you need,
To interrupt your love for suffering?

You're stuck in the middle of indecision,
You lack motivation.
You're stuck in the middle and feeling sad,
You lack a discipline.

You're stuck in the middle of indecision,
You lack motivation.
You're stuck in the middle and feeling sad,
You lack a discipline.

You're stuck in the middle of indecision,
You lack motivation.
You're stuck in the middle and feeling sad,
You lack a discipline.
You lack a discipline.
You lack a discipline.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Discipline

Discipline can stop my hunger
Discipline can quench my thirst
Discipline can make me stronger
If it doesnt kill me first
Im gonna pump it up
Gotta keep my body from falling apart
I gotta keep it up
Discipline can stop my hunger
Discipline can quench my thirst
Discipline can make me stronger
If it doesnt kill me first
Im gonna tie you up
Gonna keep you begging for the key to my heart
I gotta keep it up
But tonight Im gonna be my only slave
Put on my cd of the sound of waves
And drift away
til another day . . .
Discipline can stop my hunger
Discipline can quench my thirst
Discipline can make me stronger
If it doesnt kill me first

song performed by Joe Jackson
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Task: Book II. -- The Time-Piece

Oh for a lodge in some vast wilderness,
Some boundless contiguity of shade,
Where rumour of oppression and deceit,
Of unsuccessful or successful war
Might never reach me more! My ear is pained,
My soul is sick with every day's report
Of wrong and outrage with which earth is filled.
There is no flesh in man's obdurate heart,
It does not feel for man. The natural bond
Of brotherhood is severed as the flax
That falls asunder at the touch of fire.
He finds his fellow guilty of a skin
Not coloured like his own, and having power
To enforce the wrong, for such a worthy cause
Dooms and devotes him as his lawful prey.
Lands intersected by a narrow frith
Abhor each other. Mountains interposed,
Make enemies of nations who had else
Like kindred drops been mingled into one.
Thus man devotes his brother, and destroys;
And worse than all, and most to be deplored
As human nature's broadest, foulest blot,
Chains him, and tasks him, and exacts his sweat
With stripes, that mercy with a bleeding heart
Weeps when she sees inflicted on a beast.
Then what is man? And what man seeing this,
And having human feelings, does not blush
And hang his head, to think himself a man?
I would not have a slave to till my ground,
To carry me, to fan me while I sleep,
And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth
That sinews bought and sold have ever earned.
No: dear as freedom is, and in my heart's
Just estimation prized above all price,
I had much rather be myself the slave
And wear the bonds, than fasten them on him.
We have no slaves at home. - Then why abroad?
And they themselves, once ferried o'er the wave
That parts us, are emancipate and loosed.
Slaves cannot breathe in England; if their lungs
Receive our air, that moment they are free,
They touch our country and their shackles fall.
That's noble, and bespeaks a nation proud
And jealous of the blessing. Spread it then,
And let it circulate through every vein
Of all your empire! that where Britain's power
Is felt, mankind may feel her mercy too.

Sure there is need of social intercourse,
Benevolence and peace and mutual aid

[...] Read more

poem by William Cowper
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My Direction

Perfection is my direction
Even if thats all I had
Its not like I need no correction,
I just know that lifes not so bad
Picture this, everyday,
Kids that just cant find a way,
Stuck in this erect,
Cant find hope for better days
Its our 2 generation,
Our child of frustration
In the last 30 years teenage suicide has increased 300% in north america & is the 2nd major continent attached to canada.
Perfection is my direction
Even if thats all I had
Its not like I need no correction,
I just know that lifes not so bad
When will all my problems disappear?
Am I just going crazy from the fear?
Oh why am I going far past the break
The bridge is like a way,
And I still cant think straight.
Perfection is my direction
Even if thats all I had
Its not like I need no correction,
I just know that lifes not so bad
I met my destination
Whats life to complain about?
All these aggrivations
Building till the sea fall out
Im running by, no lie,
When every time I lie,
(dont tell me without a doubt this new found luck has all run out [repeat])
Perfection is my direction
Even if thats all I had
Its not like I need no correction,
I just know that lifes not so bad

song performed by Sum 41
Added by Lucian Velea
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Knyghthode and Bataile

A XVth Century Verse Paraphrase of Flavius Vegetius Renatus' Treatise 'DE RE MILITARI'

Proemium.
Salue, festa dies
i martis,
Mauortis! auete
Kalende. Qua Deus
ad celum subleuat
ire Dauid.

Hail, halyday deuout! Alhail Kalende
Of Marche, wheryn Dauid the Confessour
Commaunded is his kyngis court ascende;
Emanuel, Jhesus the Conquerour,
This same day as a Tryumphatour,
Sette in a Chaire & Throne of Maiestee,
To London is comyn. O Saviour,
Welcome a thousand fold to thi Citee!

And she, thi modir Blessed mot she be
That cometh eke, and angelys an ende,
Wel wynged and wel horsed, hidir fle,
Thousendys on this goode approche attende;
And ordir aftir ordir thei commende,
As Seraphin, as Cherubyn, as Throne,
As Domynaunce, and Princys hidir sende;
And, at o woord, right welcom euerychone!

But Kyng Herry the Sexte, as Goddes Sone
Or themperour or kyng Emanuel,
To London, welcomer be noo persone;
O souuerayn Lord, welcom! Now wel, Now wel!
Te Deum to be songen, wil do wel,
And Benedicta Sancta Trinitas!
Now prosperaunce and peax perpetuel
Shal growe,-and why? ffor here is Vnitas.

Therof to the Vnitee 'Deo gracias'
In Trinitee! The Clergys and Knyghthode
And Comynaltee better accorded nas
Neuer then now; Now nys ther noon abode,
But out on hem that fordoon Goddes forbode,
Periurous ar, Rebellovs and atteynte,
So forfaytinge her lyif and lyvelode,
Although Ypocrisie her faytys peynte.

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Romantic Understandings

You've got me on a tightrope and trembling too!
This is not...
Romantic understanding.

You've got me so uptight I don't know what to do.
This is not...
Romantic understanding.

Tell me why,
Romantic understanding...
You aint got hip to yet!
Tell me why,
Romantic understandings...
From you I might not get.

Tell me why,
There's no romantic understanding.
Why...
There's no chance for romance.

And,
Tell me why...
There's no romantic understanding.
Or a chance for romance!

You've got me on a tightrope and trembling too!
You've got me so uptight I don't know what to do.

Tell me why,
There's no romantic understanding.
Why...
There's no chance for romance.

You've got me on a tightrope and trembling too!
You've got me so uptight I don't know what to do.
Can you.
Can you.
Can you...
I bet you can,
Tell me why,
There's no romantic understanding.
Why...
There's no chance for romance.

Tell me why,
Romantic understanding...
You aint got hip to yet!

Tell me why,
Romantic understandings...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Against Stale Current

Essential is it to unite
to pressing questions answers which
may open roads to knowledge, might
prepare fulfillment shared and rich.

Unused to being understood,
his insight into others bores,
the trees he sees, ignores not wood
nor would - for blinkers he abhors.

A sense of purpose has withstood
positions frozen, - chosen doors
open on mission, inner good
opposing pride and rotten cores.

Against stale 'current', with hale stream
of light and life he'd soar serene,
is it surprising that such gleam
untouched remains, unshared.

(25 December 1997 robi03_0859_robi03_0000 XXX_JXX)

Lonely One Wanders
Lonely, one wanders through cowed crowd,
awaiting some supportive rays,
with warmth, complicity endowed -
beamed circlet lighthouse dream replays.
Absent present, head in cloud,
through surface calm true strength displays
both strong emotions, soul unbowed,
balm soothing offers, hope relays.

One threads paths strange, by most unploughed,
transforming fallow fields in ways
astonishing to assets vowed
as fertile, fruitfulness which stays
abundant, want, waste disavowed.
Prosperity which rich repays
time, trouble, taken, cries aloud
for friendship solitude allays.

Perception, seldom understood,
with insight into others bores,
trees, wood unsawed seen, both bad, good,
subjective blinkers lack bed, board.
Enlightenment misdeeds withstood,
to ploughshare turns destructive sword,
should’s soon converted into would,
hermit crabbiness abhorred.

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Death of Rebellion (Narrative)

She was a sweet young girl
The apple of her father's eyes
Her long hair blessed with curls
She was adored by all the guys.

Her father tried to set rules
His attempts at discipline,
To guide her from home to school
And to watch where she had been.

But the young Miss felt quite fenced
And rebelled like all young people,
With repeated lies and offense
She made her father miserable.

Now the young woman had a boyfriend
A fellow classmate with whom she went,
The young man she'd always defend
When with rules her father was bent.

One day without his knowledge,
The young sweethearts went for a date.
The days searching left him on edge,
When they found her, it was rather too late.

Any father will melt at the horror
Of finding his daughter so dead,
Twenty stab wounds from her young lover
Whose drug-crazed mind was addicted.

Yes the father loved her so much
But his child was warped in rebellion.
He could only grieve and watch
As she swallowed her own destruction.

'A fool spurns his father's discipline, but whoever heeds correction
shows prudence.'

Proverbs 15: 5
.........................................
August 4,2009
Tarlac City
Philippines

poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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The Golden Age

Long ere the Muse the strenuous chords had swept,
And the first lay as yet in silence slept,
A Time there was which since has stirred the lyre
To notes of wail and accents warm with fire;
Moved the soft Mantuan to his silvery strain,
And him who sobbed in pentametric pain;
To which the World, waxed desolate and old,
Fondly reverts, and calls the Age of Gold.

Then, without toil, by vale and mountain side,
Men found their few and simple wants supplied;
Plenty, like dew, dropped subtle from the air,
And Earth's fair gifts rose prodigal as prayer.
Love, with no charms except its own to lure,
Was swiftly answered by a love as pure.
No need for wealth; each glittering fruit and flower,
Each star, each streamlet, made the maiden's dower.
Far in the future lurked maternal throes,
And children blossomed painless as the rose.
No harrowing question `why,' no torturing `how,'
Bent the lithe frame or knit the youthful brow.
The growing mind had naught to seek or shun;
Like the plump fig it ripened in the sun.
From dawn to dark Man's life was steeped in joy,
And the gray sire was happy as the boy.
Nature with Man yet waged no troublous strife,
And Death was almost easier than Life.
Safe on its native mountains throve the oak,
Nor ever groaned 'neath greed's relentless stroke.
No fear of loss, no restlessness for more,
Drove the poor mariner from shore to shore.
No distant mines, by penury divined,
Made him the sport of fickle wave or wind.
Rich for secure, he checked each wish to roam,
And hugged the safe felicity of home.

Those days are long gone by; but who shall say
Why, like a dream, passed Saturn's Reign away?
Over its rise, its ruin, hangs a veil,
And naught remains except a Golden Tale.
Whether 'twas sin or hazard that dissolved
That happy scheme by kindly Gods evolved;
Whether Man fell by lucklessness or pride,-
Let jarring sects, and not the Muse, decide.
But when that cruel Fiat smote the earth,
Primeval Joy was poisoned at its birth.
In sorrow stole the infant from the womb,
The agëd crept in sorrow to the tomb.
The ground, so bounteous once, refused to bear
More than was wrung by sower, seed, and share.

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Austin
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The Friar's Tale

This worthy limitour, this noble Frere,
He made always a manner louring cheer* *countenance
Upon the Sompnour; but for honesty* *courtesy
No villain word as yet to him spake he:
But at the last he said unto the Wife:
'Dame,' quoth he, 'God give you right good life,
Ye have here touched, all so may I the,* *thrive
In school matter a greate difficulty.
Ye have said muche thing right well, I say;
But, Dame, here as we ride by the way,
Us needeth not but for to speak of game,
And leave authorities, in Godde's name,
To preaching, and to school eke of clergy.
But if it like unto this company,
I will you of a Sompnour tell a game;
Pardie, ye may well knowe by the name,
That of a Sompnour may no good be said;
I pray that none of you be *evil paid;* *dissatisfied*
A Sompnour is a runner up and down
With mandements* for fornicatioun, *mandates, summonses*
And is y-beat at every towne's end.'
Then spake our Host; 'Ah, sir, ye should be hend* *civil, gentle
And courteous, as a man of your estate;
In company we will have no debate:
Tell us your tale, and let the Sompnour be.'
'Nay,' quoth the Sompnour, 'let him say by me
What so him list; when it comes to my lot,
By God, I shall him quiten* every groat! *pay him off
I shall him telle what a great honour
It is to be a flattering limitour
And his office I shall him tell y-wis'.
Our Host answered, 'Peace, no more of this.'
And afterward he said unto the frere,
'Tell forth your tale, mine owen master dear.'

THE TALE.

Whilom* there was dwelling in my country *once on a time
An archdeacon, a man of high degree,
That boldely did execution,
In punishing of fornication,
Of witchecraft, and eke of bawdery,
Of defamation, and adultery,
Of churche-reeves,* and of testaments, *churchwardens
Of contracts, and of lack of sacraments,
And eke of many another manner* crime, *sort of
Which needeth not rehearsen at this time,
Of usury, and simony also;

[...] Read more

poem by Geoffrey Chaucer
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Peace Love And Understanding

As I walk through
This wicked world
Searchin' for light in the darkness of insanity.
I ask myself
Is all hope lost?
Is there only pain and hatred, and misery?
And each time I feel like this inside,
There's one thing I wanna know:
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding?
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding?
And as I walked on
Through troubled times
My spirit gets so downhearted sometimes
So where are the strong
And who are the trusted?
And where is the harmony?
Sweet harmony.
'Cause each time I feel it slippin' away, just makes me wanna cry.
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding?
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding?
So where are the strong?
And who are the trusted?
And where is the harmony?
Sweet harmony.
'Cause each time I feel it slippin' away, just makes me wanna cry.
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding?
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding?
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding?

song performed by A Perfect Circle
Added by Lucian Velea
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Peace, Love And Understanding

As i walk through
This wicked world
Searchin' for light in the darkness of insanity.
I ask myself
Is all hope lost?
Is there only pain and hatred, and misery?
And each time i feel like this inside,
There's one thing i wanna know:
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding? ohhhh
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding?
And as i walked on
Through troubled times
My spirit gets so downhearted sometimes
So where are the strong
And who are the trusted?
And where is the harmony?
Sweet harmony.
'cause each time i feel it slippin' away, just makes me wanna cry.
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding? ohhhh
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding?
So where are the strong?
And who are the trusted?
And where is the harmony?
Sweet harmony.
'cause each time i feel it slippin' away, just makes me wanna cry.
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding? ohhhh
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding? ohhhh
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding?

song performed by Elvis Costello
Added by Lucian Velea
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Peace, Love & Understanding

As I walk through
This wicked world
Searchin for light in the darkness of insanity.
I ask myself
Is all hope lost?
Is there only pain and hatred, and misery?
And each time I feel like this inside,
Theres one thing I wanna know:
Whats so funny bout peace love & understanding? ohhhh
Whats so funny bout peace love & understanding?
And as I walked on
Through troubled times
My spirit gets so downhearted sometimes
So where are the strong
And who are the trusted?
And where is the harmony?
Sweet harmony.
cause each time I feel it slippin away, just makes me wanna cry.
Whats so funny bout peace love & understanding? ohhhh
Whats so funny bout peace love & understanding?
So where are the strong?
And who are the trusted?
And where is the harmony?
Sweet harmony.
cause each time I feel it slippin away, just makes me wanna cry.
Whats so funny bout peace love & understanding? ohhhh
Whats so funny bout peace love & understanding? ohhhh
Whats so funny bout peace love & understanding?

song performed by Elvis Costello
Added by Lucian Velea
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Peace, Love & Understanding

As i walk through this wicked world
searching for light in the darkness of sanity
I ask myself if is all hope lost
Is there only pain and hatred and misery?
And then is time I feel like this feel inside
There's one thing I only know
What's so funny about peace, love and understanding
What's so funny about peace, love and understanding
As I walk on through trouble times
My spirit gets so downhearted sometimes
Oh, where are the strong, and who are the trusted?
And where is that harmony, sweet harmony?
And this time I feel it's slipping away
Just makes me wanna cry
What's so funny about peace, love and understanding
What's so funny about peace, love and understanding
So where are the strong, and who are are the trusted?
And where is that harmony, sweet harmony?
And this time I feel it's slipping away
Just makes me wanna cry
What's so funny about peace, love and understanding
What's so funny about peace, love and understanding
What's so funny about peace, love and understanding

song performed by Wallflowers
Added by Lucian Velea
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Peace, Love & Understanding

As i walk through this wicked world
searching for light in the darkness of sanity
I ask myself if is all hope lost
Is there only pain and hatred and misery?
And then is time I feel like this feel inside
There's one thing I only know
What's so funny about peace, love and understanding
What's so funny about peace, love and understanding
As I walk on through trouble times
My spirit gets so downhearted sometimes
Oh, where are the strong, and who are the trusted?
And where is that harmony, sweet harmony?
And this time I feel it's slipping away
Just makes me wanna cry
What's so funny about peace, love and understanding
What's so funny about peace, love and understanding
So where are the strong, and who are are the trusted?
And where is that harmony, sweet harmony?
And this time I feel it's slipping away
Just makes me wanna cry
What's so funny about peace, love and understanding
What's so funny about peace, love and understanding
What's so funny about peace, love and understanding

song performed by Wallflowers
Added by Lucian Velea
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Understanding and Knowledge

Those who know don’t talk;
Those who talk don’t know;
Those who speak don’t write;
Those who write don’t speak.

Those who think don’t actions;
Those who actions don’t think;
Those who think don’t judge;
Those who judge don’t do.

Small understanding is no match for great understanding;
Small knowledge cannot understand great knowledge knows.
Great wisdom has great understanding;
Great knowledge has wise sayings.

Great knowledge and understanding is wide and vast;
Small knowledge and understanding is trivial and cramped.
Great speech blaze forth as a huge fire;
Small speech is empty and trivial.

We understand what is appropriate;
Because of what we understand to be inappropriate.
We understand right;
Because of our understanding of wrong.

Use the light of wisdom to see,
Beyond the world of right and wrong.
One can only really understand things,
By understanding one’s true self.

(extracted and translated from Tao Te Cheng Book)
© Nov 2011 Lawrence Hiung

poem by Lawrence Hiung
Added by Poetry Lover
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Esperanza

Esperanza dnde vas
Ocultando tu mirada
De tristeza abandonada
En la soledad?
Esperanza, creme:
Yo no quise hacerte mal.
Te suplico me comprendas
Si te defraud.
Esperanza te aseguro
Que sin t hoy nada tengo,
Que sers por siempre el ngel
De mis sueos.
Aqu estoy, ya me ves,
Suplicndote perdn.
Si en verdad te fall,
No fu esa mi intencin.
Clpame y entirrame
En el pecho tu dolor,
Pero no te vayas nunca,
No me ignores, por favor.
Que difcil descubrir
El vaco en tu mirar
Donde arda aquel incendio
Sobrenatural.
Escondida en un rincn
Con el mundo del revs,
Y que todo sea culpa
De mi estupidez.
Aqu estoy, ya me ves,
Suplicndote perdn.
Si en verdad te fall,
No fu esa mi intencin.
Clpame y entirrame
En el pecho tu dolor,
Pero no te vayas nunca,
No me ignores, por favor.
Aqu estoy, ya me ves,
Suplicndote perdn.
Si en verdad te fall,
No fu esa mi intencin.
Clpame y entirrame
En el pecho tu dolor,
Pero no te vayas nunca,
No me ignores, por favor.

song performed by Enrique Iglesias
Added by Lucian Velea
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