segunda-feira, 28 de janeiro de 2008

Aquela Senhora tem um Piano



Aquela senhora tem um piano
Que é agradável mas não é o correr dos rios
Nem o murmúrio que as árvores fazem ...


Para que é preciso ter um piano?
o melhor é ter ouvidos
E amar a Natureza.


Alberto Caeiro



("At the Piano", James Whistler -1858-59)

The Piano


Começa a Haver Meia-Noite


Começa a haver meia-noite, e a haver sossego,
Por toda a parte das coisas sobrepostas,
Os andares vários da acumulação da vida...

Calaram o piano no terceiro andar...
Não oiço já passos no segundo andar...
No rés-do-chão o rádio está em silêncio...

Vai tudo dormir...

Fico sozinho com o universo inteiro.
Não quero ir à janela:
Se eu olhar, que de estrelas!
Que grandes silêncios maiores há no alto!
Que céu anticitadino!...

Antes, recluso,
Num desejo de não ser recluso,
Escuto ansiosamente os ruídos da rua...
Um automóvel — demasiado rápido! —
Os duplos passos em conversa falam-me...
O som de um portão que se fecha brusco dói-me...

Vai tudo dormir...

Só eu velo, sonolentamente escutando...
Esperando
Qualquer coisa antes que durma...
Qualquer coisa...
Álvaro de Campos

Michael Nyman - The Promise

domingo, 27 de janeiro de 2008

Apanhador de Desperdícios - Manoel de Barros

Livro Sobre Nada


"Com pedaços de mim eu monto um ser atônito."

Manoel de Barros

sexta-feira, 25 de janeiro de 2008

Even in Kyoto


Even in Kyoto,
how I long for Kyoto
when the cuckoo sings.

Basho (1644-94)

terça-feira, 22 de janeiro de 2008

Bush - Little Things

Celebrate the Little Things


Lamb - Little Things (Live)

Ces Petits Riens


Mieux vaut ne penser à rien que de pas penser dutout,
Rien c'est déja, rien c'est déja beaucoup,
On se souvient de rien et puisqu'on oublie tout,
Rien c'est bien mieux que tout.
Mieux vaut ne penser à rien que de pas penser à vous,
Ca ne me vaut rien, ca ne me vaut rien dutout
Mais comme si de rien était je pense à tout,
Ces petits riens qui me venaient de vous,
Si c'était trois fois rien, trois fois rien entre nous,
Evidemment ca ne fait pas beaucoup,
Ce sont ces petits riens que j'ai mis bout à bout,
Ces petits riens qui me venaient de vous.
Mieux vaut pleurer de rien que de rire de tout,
Pleurer pour un rien c'est déja beaucoup,
Mais vous, vous n'avez rien dans le coeur déja vous,
Je vous envie, je vous en veux, beaucoup,
Ce sont ces petits riens qui me venaient de vous,
Les voulez vous tenez que voulez vous,
Moi je ne veux pour rien au monde plus rien de vous,
Pour être à vous faut être à moitié fou.

Serge Gainsbourg

sábado, 19 de janeiro de 2008

Beatsteaks - Hand in Hand

Mãos Dadas


Não serei o poeta de um mundo caduco.
Também não cantarei o mundo futuro.
Estou preso à vida e olho meus companheiros.
Estão taciturnos mas nutrem grandes esperanças.
Entre eles, considero a enorme realidade.
O presente é tão grande, não nos afastemos.
Não nos afastemos muito, vamos de mãos dadas.

Não serei o cantor de uma mulher, de uma história,
não direi os suspiros ao anoitecer, a paisagem vista da
[ janela,
não distribuirei entorpecentes ou cartas de suicida,
não fugirei para as ilhas nem serei raptado por serafins.
O tempo é a minha matéria, o tempo presente, os
[ homens presentes,
a vida presente.


Carlos Drummond de Andrade

sexta-feira, 18 de janeiro de 2008

quarta-feira, 16 de janeiro de 2008

This Week´s Special:


Mountain Travel


Far away on Cold Mountain,
a stone path leads upwards.
Among white clouds people´s homes reside.
Stopping my carriage I must,
as to admire the maple forest at nights fall.
In awe of autumn leaves
showing more red than even flowers of early spring.


Du Mu - 803-852

terça-feira, 15 de janeiro de 2008

The Telephone


'When I was just as far as I could walk
From here to-day,
There was an hour
All still
When leaning with my head against a flower
I heard you talk.
Don't say I didn't, for I heard you say--
You spoke from that flower on the window sill-
Do you remember what it was you said?'

'First tell me what it was you thought you heard.'

'Having found the flower and driven a bee away,
I leaned my head
And holding by the stalk,
I listened and I thought I caught the word--
What was it? Did you call me by my name?
Or did you say--
Someone said "Come" -- I heard it as I bowed.'

'I may have thought as much, but not aloud.'

"Well, so I came.'

Robert Frost

segunda-feira, 14 de janeiro de 2008

Porcelain - Moby

Cantiga de Praia


Estou sozinho na praia,
estou sozinho e não sei.
Que luz adormece a face
se em gritos já me afoguei?

Estou dançando na praia?
Estou dançando? Não sei.
Eu colho com as mãos da ausência
a rosa que não beijei.

Que luz chega do outro lado,
do outro rio, do outro mar?
Estou sozinho na praia...
Ó mundo, vamos dançar!

Alphonsus de Guimaraens Filho

domingo, 13 de janeiro de 2008

Eden in the Rearview Mirror

Evening, and the river.
The longitudes inside you.

You reach in, pocketing a green furred stone.

Change the river,
you change too.

At first the world was yours but you owned nothing.
Sweet tarnished pears.
Dusty plums.

Now, only ache.
The apple’s broken skin.
Small bitter bite.

You’re sick from this fruit.
What you might need now.

The horizon in you starts to climb.
Up. Away.

Everything left behind
in dust—

tiger lilies by the back fence,
empty lawn chair on the porch,
stuttering whirr of an old Singer.

The sheer silk of the river wrinkling
salmon-pink in last-ditch sunlight.

You’re already gone.
The way a mountain’s deckled edges disappear in rain.

Susan Elbe

http://www.blackbird.vcu.edu/v5n2/poetry/elbe_s/eden.ram

Eden in the Rearview Mirror


Evening, and the river.
The longitudes inside you.


You reach in, pocketing a green furred stone.


Change the river,
you change too.


At first the world was yours but you owned nothing.
Sweet tarnished pears.
Dusty plums.


Now, only ache.
The apple’s broken skin.
Small bitter bite.


You’re sick from this fruit.
What you might need now.


The horizon in you starts to climb.
Up. Away.


Everything left behind
in dust—


tiger lilies by the back fence,
empty lawn chair on the porch,
stuttering whirr of an old Singer.


The sheer silk of the river wrinkling
salmon-pink in last-ditch sunlight.


You’re already gone.
The way a mountain’s deckled edges disappear in rain.


Susan Elbe

sábado, 12 de janeiro de 2008


Tédio


Passo pálida e triste. Oiço dizer :
" Que branca que ela é ! Parece morta ! "
E eu que vou sonhando, vaga, absorta,
Não tenho um gesto, ou um olhar sequer...

Que diga o mundo e a gente o que quiser !
-- O que é que isso me faz ? O que me importa ?
O frio que trago dentro gela e corta
Tudo que é sonho e graça na mulher !

O que é que me importa ? ! Essa tristeza
É menos dor intensa que frieza,
É um tédio profundo de viver !

E é tudo sempre o mesmo, eternamente...
O mesmo lago plácido, dormente...
E os dias, sempre os mesmos, a correr...

Florbela Espanca

sexta-feira, 11 de janeiro de 2008

Tiësto - Bright Morning Star

Estrela da Manhã


Eu quero a estrela da manhã.

Onde está a estrela de manhã?

Meus amigos, meus inimigos, procurem a estrela da manhã!

Ela desapareceu, estava nua.

Desapareceu com quem?

Procurem por toda parte.

Digam que sou um homem sem orgulho, um homem que aceita tudo. Que me importa? Eu quero a estrela da manhã.

Três dias e três noites fui assassino e suicida. Ladrão, pulha, falsário.

Virgem mal-sexuada, atribuladora dos aflitos, girafa de duas cabeças! Pecai por todos, pecai com todos.

Pecai com os malandros, pecai com os sargentos, pecai com os fuzileiros navais. Pecai de todas as maneiras. Com os gregos e com os troianos, com o padre e com o sacristão, com o leproso e depois comigo.

Te esperarei com mafuás, novenas, cavalhadas. Depois, comerei a terra e direi coisas de uma ternura tão simples, que desfalecerás.

Procurem por toda parte.

Pura ou degradada até a última baixeza, eu quero a estrela da manhã.


Manuel Bandeira

quinta-feira, 10 de janeiro de 2008

Chico Buarque - Construção

Construção Tardia


Acordamos tarde para a tarefa
de juntar as partes da vida,
jogo de armar em mãos inábeis.

Demasiado próximos da seiva,
enxergamos pouco.
Quem disse que é tão simples
dividir a vida em frases?
(ó infância rasurada!)
Só tempos fases.

A vida invade o tempo
(e não o oposto)
e nos atordoa
com sua face leve,
sedução e jogo,

ó vida, vida,
construção tardia:
acordamos tarde nessa arquitetura.

Grande é a gula. Parcas as nascentes.
Mas a garganta molha-se de sede,
procriando espaços de viver.
Maria da Conceição Paranhos

quarta-feira, 9 de janeiro de 2008

Eels - I Need Some Sleep

I Want To Sleep


I want to sleep
Swat the flies
Softly, please.


Masaoka Shiki (1867-1902)

terça-feira, 8 de janeiro de 2008

Tarde O Temprano


I
No tenemos raíces en la tierra.
No estaremos en ella para siempre:
sólo un instante breve.

También se quiebra el jade
y rompe el oro
y hasta el plumaje de quetzal se desgarra.

No tendremos la vida para siempre:
sólo un instante breve.

II
En el libro del mundo Dios escribe
con flores a los hombres
y con cantos
les da luz y tinieblas.

Después los va borrando:
guerreros, príncipes,
con tinta negra los revierte a la sombra

No somos reyes:
somos figuras en un libro de estampas.

III
Dios no fincó su hogar en parte alguna.
Solo, en el fondo de su cielo hueco,
está Dios inventando la palabra.

¿Alguien lo vio en la tierra?

Aquí se hastía,
no es amigo de nadie.

Todos llegamos al lugar del misterio.

IV
De cuatro en cuatro nos iremos muriendo
aquí sobre la tierra.

Somos como pinturas que se borran,
flores secas, plumajes apagados.

Ahora entiendo este misterio, este enigma:
el poder y la gloria no son nada:
con el jade y el oro bajaremos
al lugar de los muertos.

De lo que ven mis ojos desde el trono
no quedará ni el polvo en esta tierra.

José Emilio Pacheco

The Smiths - How Soon is Now?

segunda-feira, 7 de janeiro de 2008

The Rain People


Il Pleure Dans Mon Coeur


Il pleure dans mon coeur
Comme il pleut sur la ville,
Quelle est cette langueur
Qui pénètre mon coeur ?

Ô bruit doux de la pluie
Par terre et sur les toits !
Pour un coeur qui s’ennuie
Ô le chant de la pluie !

Il pleure sans raison
Dans ce coeur qui s’écoeure.
Quoi ! Nulle trahison ?
Ce deuil est sans raison.

C’est bien la pire peine
De ne savoir pourquoi
Sans amour et sans haine
Mon coeur a tant de peine.


Paul Verlaine

domingo, 6 de janeiro de 2008

UNKLE - Burn My Shadow

Alone With Everybody





 
 
 
 

the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.

there's no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.

nobody ever finds
the one.

the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill

nothing else
fills.

Charles Bukowski

sábado, 5 de janeiro de 2008

Miose


David Bowie - Ashes To Ashes

Do you remember a guy that´s been
In such an early song
I´ve heard a rumour from ground control
Oh no, don´t say it´s true

They got a message from the action man
Im happy, hope you´re happy too
I´ve loved all I´ve needed love
Sordid details following

The shrieking of nothing is killing
Just pictures of jap girls in synthesis and I
Ain´t got no money and I ain´t got no hair
But I´m hoping to kick but the planet it´s glowing

Ashes to ashes, funk to funky
We know Major Tom´s a junkie
Strung out in heavens high
Hitting an all-time low

Time and again I tell myself
I´ll stay clean tonight
But the little green wheels are following me
Oh no, not again
I´m stuck with a valuable friend
I´m happy, hope you´re happy too
One flash of light but no smoking pistol

I never done good things
I never done bad things
I never did anything out of the blue, woh-o-oh
Want an axe to break the ice
Wanna come down right now

Ashes to ashes, funk to funky
We know Major Tom´s a junkie
Strung out in heavens high
Hitting an all-time low

My mother said to get things done
You´d better not mess with Major Tom
My mother said to get things done
You´d better not mess with Major Tom
My mother said to get things done
You´d better not mess with Major Tom
My mother said to get things done
You´d better not mess with Major Tom

sexta-feira, 4 de janeiro de 2008

Midríase


Just Jack - Stars in Their Eyes

They'll be making sure you stay amused
They'll fill you up with drugs and booze
Maybe you'll make the evening news

And when you're tripping over your dreams
They'll keep you down by any means
and by the end of the night you'll be stifling your screams

Since you became a VIPerson
It's like your problems have all worsened
Your paranoia casts aspersions
On the truths you know

And they'll just put you in the spotlight
And hope that you'll do alright
Or maybe not

Now why do you wanna go and put starz in their eyes?
Why do you wanna go and put starz in their eyes?
So why do you wanna go and put starz in their eyes?
Now why do you wanna go and put starz in their eyes?
Starz in their eyes?

Remember they said you'd show them all
Emphasise the rise but not the fall
And now you're playing a shopping mall

Your mum and dad they can't believe
What you appear to have achieved
While the rest of these users are just laughing in their sleeves

Since you became a VIPerson
It's like your problems have all worsened
Your paranoia casts aspersions
On the truths you know

And now the tabloids use your face
To document your fall from grace
And then they'll tell you that that's just the way it goes
That's just the way it goes

Now why do you wanna go and put starz in their eyes?
It's the same old story well they just didn't realise
And it's a long way to come from the dog and duck karaoke machine
And Saturday night's drunken dreams

Now why do you wanna go and put starz in their eyes?
It's the same old story well they just didn't realise
And it's a long way to come from your private bedroom dance routines
And Saturday night's drunken dreams

Now why do you wanna go and put starz in their eyes?
Why do you wanna go and put starz in their eyes?
So why do you wanna go and put starz in their eyes?
Now why do you wanna go and put starz in their eyes?
Starz in their eyes?

Now why do you wanna go and put starz in their eyes?
It's the same old story well they just didn't realise
And it's a long way to come from the dog and duck karaoke machine
And Saturday night's drunken dreams

(When I grow up im going to be famous)

Behind the steel barrier and sequence and glitter
Five inch heels still knee deep in the litter
Each of them a bitter bullshitter,
Wrapped up in the cloak of fake glamour, getting lost in the camera
Well footprints are fools gold, diamonds crusts on their one off plimsolls
So little time for these one off arseholes
Rigour mortis Ken and Barbie dolls,
A pair of big shades and a push up bra,
It's such a short gap between the gutter and stars,
That you've come a long way from the place that you started
So why'd you wanna go and get so down hearted

Welcome to the kingdom of the blagger
Uncutting you nose clean, coating you bladder
A whole lot happier a whole lot sadder,
Used to be satisfied but now you feel like Mick Jagger,

Now why do you wanna go and put starz in their eyes?
It's the same old story well they just didn't realise
And it's a long way to come from the dog and duck karaoke machine
And Saturday night's drunken dreams

Now why do you wanna go and put starz in their eyes?
It's the same old story well they just didn't realise
And it's a long way to come from your private bedroom dance routines
And Saturday night's drunken dreams

terça-feira, 1 de janeiro de 2008

New Year on Dartmoor


This is newness: every little tawdry
Obstacle glass-wrapped and peculiar,
Glinting and clinking in a saint's falsetto. Only you
Don't know what to make of the sudden slippiness,
The blind, white, awful, inaccessible slant.
There's no getting up it by the words you know.
No getting up by elephant or wheel or shoe.
We have only come to look. You are too new
To want the world in a glass hat.

Sylvia Plath

U2 - New Year's Day