fauve

check it here

Nesta curva...

Oklahoma by Bernard Plossu

Nesta curva tão terna e lancinante

Nesta curva tão terna e lancinante
que vai ser que já é o teu desaparecimento
digo-te adeus
e como um adolescente
tropeço de ternura
por ti.

Paisley

...a minha camisa favorita tinha cornucópias e era de um azul como nunca mais vi, a minha camisa favorita perdi-a, agora tenho muitas mas nenhuma de um azul assim...

Femme assise sous un arbre (cliché)

Femme assise sous un arbre - Braila - 23 Octobre 1918 - Crédit photo: © André Kertesz /Culture.gouv.fr/Médiathèque de l'Architecture & du Patrimoine

I keep finding you,
I bump into you – I bump into you in all kinds of places, places so different from the wood where I found you. Where we found each other.

I keep finding you,
But it isn’t you anymore – it isn't you that I keep finding at all those places, places so different from our wood of shadow and light.

The past is a place we forgot how to reach.

Femme assise sous un arbre (cliché)

Femme assise sous un arbre - Braila - 23 Octobre 1918 - Crédit photo: © André Kertesz /Culture.gouv.fr/Médiathèque de l'Architecture & du Patrimoine

Continuo a encontrar-te,
continuo a tropeçar em ti - tropeço em ti em toda a espécie de lugares, lugares tão diferentes do bosque onde te encontrei. Onde nos encontrámos.

Continuo a encontrar-te,
mas não és mais tu - não é mais a ti quem eu encontro nestes outros lugares, tão diferentes do nosso bosque de luz e sombra.
O passado é um lugar ao qual não sabemos como regressar.

apanhar o comboio

silence geometry

Vermeer

Vermeer
by Wislawa Szymborska, translated from the Polish by Stanislaw Baranczak, Clare Cavanagh

So long as that woman from the Rijksmuseum
in painted quiet and concentration
keeps pouring milk day after day
from the pitcher to the bowl
the World hasn’t earned
the world’s end.

a season to die

um lugar para descansar

*

Tony Judt

R.I.P. Tony Judt

color america

excelent read

dreams roots

It's the peak of summer, a heat wave
All around everything is dry, colored in ochre
Trees alone, are the testimonials of life
Green balm against the oppressive heat.

Trees tear through the earth with their roots
They search for subterranean veins of water, ancient lakes
Buried under the sterile mineral earth,
Life-feeding sources.

Through hot nights, we sleep agitated sleep
Filled with dreams, we chase chimeras, we live tales
Alternate lives, dreams are our roots
Piercing through time, searching for life beyond life.

peinture

Visto na Gulbenkian

moorsoldaten

"History is the poisoned well, seeping into the groundwater. It’s not the unknown past we’re doomed to repeat, but the past we know. Every recorded event is a brick of potential, of precedent, thrown into the future. Eventually the idea will hit someone in the back of the head. This is the duplicity of history: an idea recorded will become an idea resurrected. Out of fertile ground, the compost of history."

Anne Michaels, Fugitive Pieces

sonhos raízes

Pino do Verão, vaga de calor
Tudo está seco e ocre em redor,
Sós, as árvores são os únicos testemunhos de vida
Bálsamo verde para o calor que tudo oprime.

As árvores rasgam a terra com as suas raízes
Buscam fundo os veios de água subterrâneos, os lagos antigos
Que existem sob a terra mineral e estéril,
Mananciais donde se alimenta a vida.

Pelas noites quentes, dormimos sonos agitados
Povoados de sonhos, perseguimos quimeras, vivenciamos histórias
Vidas alternativas, os sonhos são as nossas raízes
Rasgando o tempo, em busca de vida, para lá da vida.

baile

final fantasy

"Iris"
by Yoshitaka Amano



"Tale Of Genji III"
by Yoshitaka Amano

joy in settling

site here

Words

“When I use a word,” Humpty Dumpty said, in rather a scornful tone, “it means just what I choose it to mean—neither more nor less.” “The question is,” said Alice, “whether you can make words mean so many different things.”

found here

Russia fire

WHY

WHY POETRY?

Why poetry?
Why?
Why sunsets?
Why trees?
Why birds?
Why seas?
Why you?
Why me?
Why friends?
Why families?
Why laugh?
Why cry?
Why hello?
Why good-bye?
Why poetry?

That’s why!

Lee Bennett Hopkins
(Reprinted with permission of Curtis Brown Ltd.)


Good Books, Good Times

Good books, good times
Good stories
Good rhymes
Good beginnings
Good ends
Good people
Good friends
Good fiction
Good facts
Good adventures
Good acts
Good stories
Good rhymes
GOOD books
GOOD times

(Lee Bennett Hopkins)
encontrado no blog Abrupto

Home defence

Mojo

magical charm

cane

Eventually you’ll need a cane to walk around…

The beautiful chick walking next to your favorite neighbor
Will be her granddaughter, but then you won't pay much attention.
You will look puzzled at football cards “- What’s this for ?...” and you won't notice either
That another World championship has come and gone.

You will sit at a favorite bench not noticing that you are alone
Rummaging through the same conversation, day in day out
Eventually you’ll need a cane to walk around…

One day people will carry you and you will worry no more
(as if you still did…)

Salomé

Franz von Stuck, Salomé, 1903, Lenbachaus, Munique

Ondine