me ...

My thoughts are a mess. And try to order them, make them not to run. The uncontrolled spread and whether this time can bring order. Or if you must.
I know the sound of these lines. As my thoughts.
Wait. Long and endless waiting.

And I remember Charels Baudelaire's poetry...

You said: "Where you come strange sorrow
It grows as big on a rocky shore?
-When the heart has finished picking, we're
A disease is life .This secret all knows. "

Strange sorrow in my eyes still stands as a silent shadow of memories, of a desire. For continuing to be a smile and a tear. In my thoughts are a and a tear. Both are mines.

In my eyes was always a smile and a tear.
Feeling the pressure. Inside and outside. Where am I in this scene? Playing my life, my playing it and I just found myself not me anymore. A moment for myself is an ideal.
La chiridai rromela ...
And let a tear to trickle slowly on the cheek. I know not last, just first. I know another one will follow .. and then another one ...
Why? For whom? Why?
Which is what I feel? What hurts so much? Why not see the light? Why all roads seem dark? And me ... me where?

UMRAO JAAN

You can call me ...
... is the voice of a broken heart
I am the instrument
... contains all the songs.
Who are, you are ...
... for who they are alive ...
... myself do not understand ...
... tell me this secret.

So begins. One song away, a life story ...

I was born in Faizabad and my name was Ameeran ...

Kidnapped from his parents' house is sold and forced to prepare for a future life of courtesan. Pleasant by nature, gets a new name - Umrao-and with the advent of the first Mujra is being courted by one of the richest men , becoming Jaan (beloved ). But as any courtesan, not allowed to love. Despite all, it loved Nawab Sultan. For the man loved she will be selled again, though he swears that he will be only. And received as much love as a woman can get any woman. Not a courtesan, but a woman. But the footprint of another man was something I could not accept the Nawab Sultan.
Alone, abandoned by lover , returns home, as Ameeran. Just as there no longer expect anything ...

Tell me, have you seen one so good bye?
Motherless, fatherless, without brother.
There is no one there.
Tears are the decoration and palanquin suffering.
The gates were closed behind me.
Stop back here, not even in your dreams.
Stop back here, not even in your dreams.
Dont bring me back to the next life as a daughter.
Whatever you have done now, Oh Lord! Do not do it again.
Dont bring me back to the next life as a daughter.

I was born

I was born ... where the fire is lit in the evening, where gypsies dance in the firelight, where Gypsies twisted his mustache and pull the pipe, where the sun shines so beautiful, where children grow up free, where love and hate with passion ... where you live freely, where violin playing and soul hurts, where tears and smile is as strong ...where can smile in the morning sun, where the song accompanies each step through the grass... where can I love singing, dancing where inseparable, where my feet walking through grass, where barefoot, living. Where have courage to walk forward without regret moment was past, where they can steal that moment so much I wanted one. Where can I fly and wings will never be broken. Where have the courage to get high to the sky as I expected. Where an agreement violins caressing my soul when it hurts. Where I to feel pain, because it's part of me. Where let blood flow so that only I seem possible moment will come... where there is fear. ... where the fire burns and learn where to walk on it barefoot. Where water wash my grief. Where dare to love, to smile. Where I to feel that pain without fear. Where have courage to complain without fear. Where have courage to face life and death alike. I was born where I learned to be me, so. I was born in Satra. Its ME !