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Friday, November 12, 2010
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
sadness
sadness is real, cold and dark as a cloudy sky, it dwarfs you like a tall, clean wall, stops you from seeing beyond and you know you have to run around it…
Sadness makes you very tired, is a river that carries you, little as an egg,
Sadness is a lesson you aren’t ready to learn yet, you sunk deep into its pit and only late you find it is bottomless
Sadness makes you sharp, attuned, but you have to sing its music with all your being
“She was gentle, shy, quiet and delicate. A little bit depressive”
they both live through dreamers eyes...
a tristeza
a tristeza é um cansaço, um rio de lágrimas dos teus olhos e tu ficas pequeno como um ovo, ofegando contra a muralha, ignorante dos seus limites
a tristeza é uma lição e tu não estás preparado para a aprender, vais bebendo da sua taça e tarde descobres que não tem fim
a tristeza exige táctica e alianças, a tristeza aguça-te e afina-te, mas para isso precisas de ser um com a tristeza, cantar a sua música com todo o teu ser
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
burning olive groves
Time magazine can be trusted on this...
With so many atrocities going on, I just don't know why this one stroke me the most...
rouxinol e papoila
Monday, November 8, 2010
The Floating Man
The Floating Man
by Katharine Towers
In this experiment of Ibn-Sina, I must float
for as long as it takes to forget the sweating desert
and the sifting streets of Hamadan.
for as long as it takes to forget the sweating desert
and the sifting streets of Hamadan.
No part of me may touch another body part.
My hands are spread so wide, each finger
thinks it is the only finger in the world.
My hands are spread so wide, each finger
thinks it is the only finger in the world.
My head is shaved, lest a stray hair
tickle my ear, or remind me that I'm beautiful.
I must take care not to hear my own heart beating.
tickle my ear, or remind me that I'm beautiful.
I must take care not to hear my own heart beating.
When the time comes, you will ask me
who on earth I am. Shall I say a man or a thought,
or a man thinking about deserts and cities?
who on earth I am. Shall I say a man or a thought,
or a man thinking about deserts and cities?
Sky folds me in. I'm as lonely as a spent star
calling into the darkness. Now ask again.
calling into the darkness. Now ask again.
(From The Floating Man by Katharine Towers, published by Picador
l'affaire Dreyfus
curta
tudo o que passa é relativo
cabe um mundo no intervalo entre o cais e a carruagem
passeias um cão alheio como se fosse teu, envelheces dentro do teu roupão grosso,
andas pela rua sem querer saber de nada, o pano defende-te do tempo que faz e dos olhares que te deitam
sais mesmo é pelo cão - para ele fazer as necessidades e arejar um pouco...espairecer
dias mais felizes, todos já tivemos dias mais felizes
(everything that vanishes is relative
a world fits in the gap between the carriage and the platform
you walk another person's dog as your own, getting older inside your thick robe,
you go through the streets not caring for a thing, the cloth hides you from the wheather and the staring
you are out only for the dog - for him to release his belly, take some air...relax
happier days, we all had happier days before)
Friday, November 5, 2010
Villanelle
William Empson: Villanelle
It is the pain, it is the pain endures.
Your chemic beauty burned my muscles through.
Poise of my hands reminded me of yours.
Your chemic beauty burned my muscles through.
Poise of my hands reminded me of yours.
What later purge from this deep toxin cures?
What kindness now could the old salve renew?
It is the pain, it is the pain endures.
What kindness now could the old salve renew?
It is the pain, it is the pain endures.
The infection slept (custom or changes inures)
And when pain’s secondary phase was due
Poise of my hands reminded me of yours.
And when pain’s secondary phase was due
Poise of my hands reminded me of yours.
How safe I felt, whom memory assures,
Rich that your grace safely by heart I knew.
It is the pain, it is the pain endures.
Rich that your grace safely by heart I knew.
It is the pain, it is the pain endures.
My stare drank deep beauty that still allures.
My heart pumps yet the poison draught of you.
Poise of my hands reminded me of yours.
My heart pumps yet the poison draught of you.
Poise of my hands reminded me of yours.
You are still kind whom the same shape immures.
Kind and beyond adieu. We miss our cue.
It is the pain, it is the pain endures.
Poise of my hands reminded me of yours.
Kind and beyond adieu. We miss our cue.
It is the pain, it is the pain endures.
Poise of my hands reminded me of yours.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
tender is the night
lost age/jazz age
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Friday, October 29, 2010
Um fato
Um fato
Chegas de fato e toda a gente sabe que a tua vida mudou - adquiriu um peso e uma gravidade diferentes.
(Ainda te ris da mesma maneira desconjuntada de rapaz e gastas serões agarrado à Playstation, contudo...).
O dia está escuro e quieto, antes de entrar para o Metro, reparo num veleiro de três mastros ancorado no cais.
Quando minutos mais tarde saio do Metro, as folhas rodopiam pelo ar e grossas gotas de chuva começam a cair...toda a gente corre para chegar enxuto ao destino.
O conhecido louco indiferente a tudo, continua o seu arengar na esquina...
Tanta gente, tantas histórias, podemos ignorar, deixar apenas o silêncio que as regras de conduta ditam imperar e então de todas as histórias, saberemos apenas uma ínfima parte, a ignorância é sempre mais confortável e acomodada. Ou podemos ser loucos, diferentes do louco que vive a sua mania apenas e querer abarcar o mundo e os outros, escutar histórias, como corações que batem, batem de mansinho nos nossos peitos recatados.
Chegas de fato e vais conquistar o mundo, o mais certo é ires coçar o fato numa secretária habitual, numa tarefa sempre igual, mas agora o fato é novo, como a tua ilusão e reparamos nele e em ti.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Lingua
As línguas nasceram quando as comunidades humanas viviam separadas umas das outras, agora que vivemos todos juntos na aldeia global vamos falar só uma língua ?
To enter in these bonds is to be free
John Donne: To His Mistress Going to Bed
Come, madam, come, all rest my powers defy,
Until I labour, I in labour lie.
The foe oft-times having the foe in sight,
Is tired with standing though he never fight.
Off with that girdle, like heaven’s zone glistering,
But a far fairer world encompassing.
Unpin that spangled breastplate which you wear,
That th’eyes of busy fools may be stopped there.
Unlace yourself, for that harmonious chime
Tells me from you that now it is bed time.
Off with that happy busk, which I envy,
That still can be, and still can stand so nigh.
Your gown going off, such beauteous state reveals,
As when from flowery meads th’hills shadow steals.
Off with your wiry coronet and show
The hairy diadem which on you doth grow:
Now off with those shoes: and then safely tread
In this love’s hallowed temple, this soft bed.
In such white robes heaven’s angels used to be
Received by men; thou, Angel, bring’st with thee
A heaven like Mahomet’s Paradise; and though
Ill spirits walk in white, we easily know
By this these Angels from an evil sprite:
Those set our hairs, but these our flesh upright.
License my roving hands, and let them go
Before, behind, between, above, below.
O my America! my new-found-land,
My kingdom, safeliest when with one man manned,
My mine of precious stones, my empery,
How blest am I in this discovering thee!
To enter in these bonds is to be free;
Then where my hand is set, my seal shall be.
Full nakedness! All joys are due to thee,
As souls unbodied, bodies unclothed must be,
To taste whole joys. Gems which you women use
Are as Atlanta’s balls, cast in men’s views,
That when a fool’s eye lighteth on a gem,
His earthly soul may covet theirs, not them:
Like pictures, or like books’ gay coverings made
For lay-men, are all women thus arrayed.
Themselves are mystic books, which only we
(Whom their imputed grace will dignify)
Must see revealed. Then, since that I may know,
As liberally as to a midwife, show
Thyself: cast all, yea, this white linen hence,
There is no penance due to innocence:
To teach thee, I am naked first; why than,
What need’st thou have more covering than a man?
Until I labour, I in labour lie.
The foe oft-times having the foe in sight,
Is tired with standing though he never fight.
Off with that girdle, like heaven’s zone glistering,
But a far fairer world encompassing.
Unpin that spangled breastplate which you wear,
That th’eyes of busy fools may be stopped there.
Unlace yourself, for that harmonious chime
Tells me from you that now it is bed time.
Off with that happy busk, which I envy,
That still can be, and still can stand so nigh.
Your gown going off, such beauteous state reveals,
As when from flowery meads th’hills shadow steals.
Off with your wiry coronet and show
The hairy diadem which on you doth grow:
Now off with those shoes: and then safely tread
In this love’s hallowed temple, this soft bed.
In such white robes heaven’s angels used to be
Received by men; thou, Angel, bring’st with thee
A heaven like Mahomet’s Paradise; and though
Ill spirits walk in white, we easily know
By this these Angels from an evil sprite:
Those set our hairs, but these our flesh upright.
License my roving hands, and let them go
Before, behind, between, above, below.
O my America! my new-found-land,
My kingdom, safeliest when with one man manned,
My mine of precious stones, my empery,
How blest am I in this discovering thee!
To enter in these bonds is to be free;
Then where my hand is set, my seal shall be.
Full nakedness! All joys are due to thee,
As souls unbodied, bodies unclothed must be,
To taste whole joys. Gems which you women use
Are as Atlanta’s balls, cast in men’s views,
That when a fool’s eye lighteth on a gem,
His earthly soul may covet theirs, not them:
Like pictures, or like books’ gay coverings made
For lay-men, are all women thus arrayed.
Themselves are mystic books, which only we
(Whom their imputed grace will dignify)
Must see revealed. Then, since that I may know,
As liberally as to a midwife, show
Thyself: cast all, yea, this white linen hence,
There is no penance due to innocence:
To teach thee, I am naked first; why than,
What need’st thou have more covering than a man?
Monday, October 25, 2010
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