quarta-feira, 4 de abril de 2018

Robert Frost

Home Burial

He saw her from the bottom of the stairs
Before she saw him.  She was starting down,
Looking back over her shoulder at some fear.
She took a doubtful step and then undid it
To raise herself and look again.  He spoke
Advancing toward her:  ‘What is it you see
From up there always--for I want to know.'
She turned and sank upon her skirts at that,
And her face changed from terrified to dull.
He said to gain time:  ‘What is it you see,'
Mounting until she cowered under him.
‘I will find out now--you must tell me, dear.'
She, in her place, refused him any help
With the least stiffening of her neck and silence.
She let him look, sure that he wouldn’t see,
Blind creature; and awhile he didn’t see.
But at last he murmured, ‘Oh,' and again, ‘Oh.'

‘What is it--what?' she said.
     ‘Just that I see.'

Eu sempre acabo voltando pra ela...

Lady Lazarus

I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it—

A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot

A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin
O my enemy.
Do I terrify?—

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.

Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me

And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.

This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.

What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see

Them unwrap me hand and foot—
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies

These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,

Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.

The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut

As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

Dying
Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I’ve a call.

It’s easy enough to do it in a cell.
It’s easy enough to do it and stay put.
It’s the theatrical

Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:

‘A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge

For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart—
It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood

Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby

That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash—
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there--

A cake of soap, 
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.

Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.

Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.
23-29 October 1962

Maya Angelou sempre ela

Awaking in New York

Curtains forcing their will   
against the wind,
children sleep,
exchanging dreams with   
seraphim. The city
drags itself awake on   
subway straps; and
I, an alarm, awake as a   
rumor of war,
lie stretching into dawn,   
unasked and unheeded.

Porque hoje ela faria 90 anos

Still I Rise

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
’Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
’Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

quinta-feira, 29 de março de 2018

Bette Davis Eyes

Bette Davies Eyes
Kim Carnes, Kim Carrnes
Her hair is Harlow gold
Her lips are sweet surprise
Her hands are never cold
She's got Bette Davis eyes
She'll turn the music on you
You won't have to think twice
She's pure as New York snow
She got Bette Davis eyes
And she'll tease you, she'll unease you
All the better just to please you
She's precocious, and she knows just what it
Takes to make a pro blush
She got Greta Garbo's standoff sighs, she's got Bette Davis eyes
She'll let you take her home
It whets her appetite
She'll lay you on the throne
She got Bette Davis eyes
She'll take a tumble on you
Roll you like you were dice
Until you come out blue
She's got Bette Davis eyes
She'll expose you, when she snows you
Off your feet with the crumbs, she throws you
She's ferocious and she knows just what it
Takes to make a pro blush
All the boys think she's a spy, she's got Bette Davis eyes
And she'll tease you, she'll unease you
All the better just to please you
She's precocious, and she knows just what it
Takes to make a pro blush
All the boys think she's a spy, she's got Bette Davis eyes
She'll tease you
She'll unease you
Just to please you
She's got Bette Davis eyes
She'll expose you
When she snows you
She knows you, she's got Bette Davis Eyes

terça-feira, 27 de março de 2018


Coragem

“A semente não pode saber o que lhe vai acontecer, a semente jamais conheceu a flor. E a semente não pode nem mesmo acreditar que traga em si a potencialidade para transformar-se em uma bela flor. Longa é a jornada. E sempre será mais seguro não entrar nela, porque o percurso é desconhecido, e nada é garantido... mil e uma são as incertezas da jornada, muitos são os imprevistos - e a semente sente-se em segurança, escondida no interior de um caroço resistente. Ainda assim ela arrisca, esforça-se; desfaz-se da carapaça dura que é a sua segurança, e começa a mover-se. A luta começa no mesmo momento: a batalha com o solo, com as pedras, com a rocha. A semente era muito resistente, mas a plantinha será muito, muito delicada, e os perigos serão muitos.

Não havia perigo para a semente, a semente poderia ter sobrevivido por milênios, mas para a plantinha os perigos são muitos. O brotinho lança-se, porém, ao desconhecido, em direção ao sol, em direção à fonte de luz, sem saber para onde, sem saber por quê. Enorme é a cruz a ser carregada, mas a semente está tomada por um sonho e segue em frente.

Semelhante é o caminho para o homem. É árduo. Muita coragem será necessária”.

Esta descrição da carta me faz refletir sobre todos os momentos em que precisamos ser como a semente: aceitar o campo em que caímos e, mesmo dentro de um casca rija, acreditar nos nossos sonhos e romper esta casca, olhando em volta, intuindo onde estamos e para onde vamos.

Se o ambiente for inóspito, temos que, pacientemente, esperar pela chuva e pelo sol que vêm fortalecer nosso crescimento. Temos que encontrar uma brecha entre as pedras e os espinhos para serpentear nosso caule e abrir nossa copa e nossas flores debaixo do vasto céu azul que nos espera.

Sugiro que imprima a carta que ilustra o artigo e a pendure bem na sua frente, deixando aqui também, o comentário sobre a carta: “Quando nos defrontamos com uma situação muito difícil, há sempre uma escolha: podemos ficar repletos de ressentimentos e tentar encontrar alguém ou alguma coisa em que pôr a culpa pelas nossas dificuldades, ou podemos enfrentar o desafio e crescer. A flor nos mostra o caminho, à medida que a sua paixão pela vida a conduz para fora da escuridão, para o mundo da luz. Não há nenhum sentido em lutar contra os desafios da vida, ou tentar evitá-los ou negá-los. Eles estão aí, e se a semente deve transformar-se em flor, precisamos passar por eles. Seja corajoso o bastante para transformar-se na flor que você foi feito para ser”.

terça-feira, 15 de agosto de 2017

Vladímir Maiakóvski

Os adultos fazem negócios.
Têm rublos nos bolsos.
Quer amor? Pois não!
Ei-lo por cem rublos!
E eu, sem casa e sem teto,
com as mãos metidas nos bolsos rasgados,
vagava assombrado.
À noite
vestis os melhores trajes
e ides descansar sobre viúvas ou casadas.
A mim
Moscou me sufocava de abraços
com seus infinitos anéis de praças.
Nos corações, nos relógios
bate o pêndulo dos amantes.
Como se exaltam as duplas no leito do amor!
Eu, que sou a Praça da Paixão,
surpreendo o pulsar selvagem
do coração das capitais.
Desabotoado, o coração quase de fora,
abria-me ao sol e aos jatos de água.
Entrai com vossas paixões!
Galgai-me com vossos amores!
Doravante não sou mais dono de meu coração!
Nos demais — eu sei,
qualquer um o sabe —
O coração tem domicílio
no peito.
Comigo a anatomia ficou louca.
Sou todo coração —
em todas as partes palpita.
Oh! Quantas são as primaveras
em vinte anos acesas nesta fornalha!
Uma tal carga
acumulada
torna-se simplesmente insuportável.
Insuportável
não para o verso
de veras.

Pablo Neruda

Não te quero senão porque te quero
e de querer-te a não querer-te chego
e de esperar-te quando não te espero
passa meu coração do frio ao fogo.
Quero-te apenas porque a ti eu quero,
a ti odeio sem fim e, odiando-te, te suplico,
e a medida do meu amor viajante
é não ver-te e amar-te como um cego.
Consumirá talvez a luz de Janeiro,
o seu raio cruel, meu coração inteiro,
roubando-me a chave do sossego.
Nesta história apenas eu morro
e morrerei de amor porque te quero,
porque te quero, amor, a sangue e fogo.

Maya Angelou

Alone

Lying, thinking
Last night
How to find my soul a home
Where water is not thirsty
And bread loaf is not stone
I came up with one thing
And I don’t believe I’m wrong
That nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

There are some millionaires
With money they can’t use
Their wives run round like banshees
Their children sing the blues
They’ve got expensive doctors
To cure their hearts of stone.
But nobody
No, nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Now if you listen closely
I’ll tell you what I know
Storm clouds are gathering
The wind is gonna blow
The race of man is suffering
And I can hear the moan,
‘Cause nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

segunda-feira, 26 de setembro de 2016

I dont wanna change you

Wherever you are
You know that I adore you
No matter how far
Well, I can go before you
And if ever you need someone
Well, not that you need helping
But if ever you want someone
Know that I am willing
Oh and I don't want to change you
I don't want change you,
I don't want to change your mind
I just came across a manger
Out among the danger
Somewhere in a stranger's eye
Wherever you go
Well, I can always follow
I can feed this real slow
If it's a lot to swallow
And if you just want to be alone
Well, I can wait without waiting
If you want me to let this go
Well, I'm more than willing
Oh 'cause I don't want to change you
I don't want to change you
I don't want to change your mind
I just came across a manger
Out among the danger
Somewhere in a stranger's eye
Oh and I don't want to change you
I don't want to change her
Don't want to change your mind
I just came across a manger
Out among the danger
Somewhere in a stranger's eye
I've never been with anyone
In the way I've been with you
But if love is not for fun
Then it's doomed
'Cause water races
Water races down the waterfalls
The water races
Water races down the waterfall
And I don't want to change you
I don't want to change you
I don't want to change your mind
I just came across a manger
Where there is no the danger
Where love has eyes and is not blind

quinta-feira, 28 de julho de 2016

"Não falemos mais. As coisas que se amam, os sentimentos que se afagam guardam-se com a chave d'aquilo a que chamamos «pudor» no cofre do coração. A eloquência profana-os. A arte, revelando-os, torna-os pequenos e vis. O próprio olhar não os deve revelar.
Sabeis decerto que o maior amor não é aquele que a palavra suave puramente exprime. Nem é aquele que o olhar diz, nem aquele que a mão comunica tocando levemente n'outra mão. É aquele que quando dois seres estão juntos, não se olhando nem tocando os envolve como uma nuvem. (...)
Esse amor não se deve dizer nem revelar. Não se pode falar dele."
Fernando Pessoa, 'Inéditos'

segunda-feira, 14 de março de 2016

From my favorite love story...

'I think that's the worst motive you've given yet for being the wife of young Linton.'
.
'It is not,' retorted she; 'it is the best! The others were the satisfaction of my whims: and for Edgar's sake, too, to satisfy him. This is for the sake of one who comprehends in his person my feelings to Edgar and myself. I cannot express it; but surely you and everybody have a notion that there is or should be an existence of yours beyond you. What were the use of my creation, if I were entirely contained here? My great miseries in this world have been Heathcliff's miseries, and I watched and felt each from the beginning: my great thought in living is himself. If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger: I should not seem a part of it.—My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods: time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees. My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nelly, I am Heathcliff! He's always, always in my mind: not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being. So don't talk of our separation again: it is impracticable; and—'

quarta-feira, 2 de março de 2016

Heart! We will forget him - Emily Dickinson

Heart! We Will Forget Him!

(Emily Dickinson)

Heart! We will forget him!
You an I, tonight! 
You may forget the warmth he gave,
I will forget the light.

When you have done, pray tell me 
That I my thoughts may dim; 
Haste! lest while you're lagging.
 I may remember him!


quarta-feira, 6 de janeiro de 2016

quarta-feira, 10 de setembro de 2014

Emily Dickinson

1705

Volcanoes be in Sicily
And South America
I judge from my Geography—
Volcanos nearer here
A Lava step at any time
Am I inclined to climb—
A Crater I may contemplate
Vesuvius at Home.

http://hellopoetry.com/poem/3911/volcanoes-be-in-sicily/

quinta-feira, 17 de abril de 2014

Save a prayer - Duran Duran

You saw me standing by the wall
Corner of a main street
And the lights are flashing on your window sill
All alone ain't much fun
So you're looking for the thrill
And you know just what it takes and where to go
Don't say a prayer for me now
Save it 'til the morning after
No, don't say a prayer for me now
Save it 'til the morning after
Feel the breeze deep on the inside
Look you down into the well
If you can, you'll see the world in all his fire
Take a chance
Like all dreamers can't find another way
You don't have to dream it all, just live a day
Don't say a prayer for me now
Save it 'til the morning after
No, don't say a prayer for me now
Save it 'til the morning after
Save it 'til the morning after
Save it till the morning after
Pretty looking road
I try to hold the rising floods that fill my skin
Don't ask me why I'll keep my promise
I'll melt the ice
And you wanted to dance so I asked you to dance
But fear is in your soul
Some people call it a one night stand
But we can call it paradise
Don't say a prayer for me now
Save it 'til the morning after
No, don't say a prayer for me now
Save it 'til the morning after
Save it 'til the morning after
Save it 'til the morning after
Save it 'til the morning after
Save it 'til the morning after
Save a prayer 'til the morning after

terça-feira, 28 de janeiro de 2014

#UmaPoesiaPorDia - I like My Body When It Is With Your

I Like My Body When It Is With Your

E.E. Cummings

i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body.  i like what it does,
i like its hows.  i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones,and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the,shocking fuzz
of your electric furr,and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh….And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill


of under me you so quite new

segunda-feira, 20 de janeiro de 2014

#UmaPoesiaPorDia - O Cão Sem Plumas

O Cão Sem Plumas
(João Cabral de Melo Neto)

A cidade é passada pelo rio
como uma rua
é passada por um cachorro;
uma fruta
por uma espada.

O rio ora lembrava
a língua mansa de um cão
ora o ventre triste de um cão,
ora o outro rio
de aquoso pano sujo
dos olhos de um cão.

Aquele rio
era como um cão sem plumas.
Nada sabia da chuva azul,
da fonte cor-de-rosa,
da água do copo de água,
da água de cântaro,
dos peixes de água,
da brisa na água.

Sabia dos caranguejos
de lodo e ferrugem.

Sabia da lama
como de uma mucosa.
Devia saber dos povos.
Sabia seguramente
da mulher febril que habita as ostras.

Aquele rio
jamais se abre aos peixes,
ao brilho,
à inquietação de faca
que há nos peixes.
Jamais se abre em peixes.

domingo, 19 de janeiro de 2014

#UmaPoesiaPorDia: Conversation - Elizabeth Bishop

Conversation

The tumult in the heart keeps asking questions. 
And then it stops and undertakes to answer 
in the same tone of voice. 
No one could tell the difference. 
Uninnocent, these conversations start,

 and then engage the senses, 
only half-meaning to.
 And then there is no choice, 
and then there is no sense; 
until a name 
and all its connotation are the same.
 Elizabeth Bishop

By My Side
INXS

In the dark of the night
Those small hours
Uncertain and anxious
I need to call you

Rooms full of strangers
Some call me friend
But I wish you were so close to me

In the dark of night
Those small hours
I drift away
When I'm with you

In the dark of night
By my side
In the dark of night
By my side
I wish you were (2x)

Here comes the clown
His face in a wall
No window
No air at all

In the dark of night
Those faces they haunt me
But I wish you were
So close to me

(2x)
In the dark of night
By my side
In the dark of night
By my side
I wish you were (2x)

In the dark of night
Those faces they haunt me
And I wish you were so close to me

Yes I wish you were

By my side

sábado, 30 de novembro de 2013

Neneh Cherry

Kootchi Koo

I love the way you walk
I love the way you talk
With your mouthful
The way you park on the sidewalk
The way you are in your car

I’ll make you love the way I behave
On my bad days
Show you the trigger to my bitch switch
And how to play with my witch stitch

Kiss my dirty feet
I’ll take you out for dinner
Laugh at my jokes
I wanna sit on your back
Close my eyes
Take your pulse
It’s 120...ohh yeah
And it’s rising

All I wanna do, is kootchi koo with you (4X)

I love the way you rob a shop
I love the way your belly flops
As the morning drops
And the way you change from playing cup
When you force me to stop
First my assailant
Then my private federal agent
Bang my feet chain my hands
And ignore my demands

Kiss my dirty feet
I’ll take you out for dinner
Laugh at my jokes ahah
I wanna sit on your back
Close my eyes
Take your pulse
It’s 120
(ahhhhh) and it’s rising (ahhhh)

All I wanna do, is kootchi koo with you
All I wanna do, is kootchi koo with you now
All I wanna do, is kootchi koo with you oh
All I wanna do, is kootchi koo with you yeah
All I wanna do, is kootchi kootchi kootchi koo with you
All I wanna do, is kootchi koo with you oh
All I wanna do, is kootchi kootchi kootchi kootchi koo with you
All I wanna do, is kootchi koo with you
All I wanna do, is kootchi koo with you now

You’re like maggots in my brain
Crawling through my veins

All I wanna do, is kootchi koo with you
All I wanna do, is kootchi koo with you
All I wanna do, is kootchi koo with you
Kootchi (9X) 
koo.

Wildest Moments - Jesse Ware

Wildest Moments - Jesse Ware
You and I, bloodlines
We come together every time
Two wrongs, no rights
We lose ourselves at night
From the outside, from the outside
Everyone must be wondering why we try
Why do we try
Maybe in our wildest moments
We could be the greatest,
We could be the greatest
Maybe in our wildest moments
We could be the worst of all
Maybe in our wildest moments
We could be the greatest,
We could be the greatest
Maybe in our wildest moments
We could be the worst of all
Wait on, thunder sky
Wherever there’s smoke, there'll soon be fire
What could bring bad luck
I’ve been looking at you too much
From the outside,
From the outside
Everyone must be wondering why we try
Why do we try
Maybe in our wildest moments
We could be the greatest,
We could be the greatest
Maybe in our wildest moments
We could be the worst of all
Maybe in our wildest moments
We could be the greatest,
We could be the greatest
Maybe in our wildest moments
We could be the worst of all
In the middle of it
We walk, we walk the line
Looking back on the set
Our wildest moments
Are you thinking what if
What if we ruined it all?
My wrecking ball
From the outside, from the outside
Everyone must be wondering why we try
Why do we try
Maybe in our wildest moments
We could be the greatest,
We could be the greatest
Maybe in our wildest moments
We could be the worst of all
Maybe in our wildest moments
We could be the greatest,
We could be the greatest
Maybe in our wildest moments
We could be the worst of all

sábado, 15 de junho de 2013

Changes - David Bowie






Changes
David Bowie

Oh Yeah
Ooo

Still don't know what I was waiting for
And my time was running wild
A million dead-end streets and
Every time I thought I'd got it made
It seemed the taste was not so sweet
So I turned myself to face me
But I've never caught a glimpse
Of how the others must see the faker
I'm much too fast to take that test

Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the strange)
Ch-ch-Changes
Don't wanna be a richer man
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the strange)
Ch-ch-Changes
Just gonna have to be a different man
Time may change me
But I can't trace time

Ooo yeah
I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence and
So the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're going through

Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the strange)
Ch-ch-Changes
Don't tell them to grow up and out of it
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the strange)
Ch-ch-Changes
Where's your shame
You've left us up to our necks in it
Time may change me
But you can't trace time

Strange fascination, fascinating me
Ah Changes are taking the pace I'm going through

Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the strange)
Ch-ch-Changes
Oh, look out you rock 'n rollers
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the strange)
Ch-ch-Changes
Pretty soon now you're gonna get older
Time may change me
But I can't trace time
I said that time may change me
But I can't trace time

Do not forget!


sexta-feira, 25 de maio de 2012

Vai Passar


Vai Passar
Chico Buarque

Vai passar nessa avenida um samba popular
Cada paralelepípedo da velha cidade essa noite vai se arrepiar
Ao lembrar que aqui passaram sambas imortais
Que aqui sangraram pelos nossos pés
Que aqui sambaram nossos ancestrais
Num tempo página infeliz da nossa história,
passagem desbotada na memória
Das nossas novas gerações
Dormia a nossa pátria mãe tão distraída
sem perceber que era subtraída
Em tenebrosas transações
Seus filhos erravam cegos pelo continente,
levavam pedras feito penitentes
Erguendo estranhas catedrais
E um dia, afinal, tinham o direito a uma alegria fugaz
Uma ofegante epidemia que se chamava carnaval,
o carnaval, o carnaval
Vai passar, palmas pra ala dos barões famintos
O bloco dos napoleões retintos
e os pigmeus do boulevard
Meu Deus, vem olhar, vem ver de perto uma cidade a cantar
A evolução da liberdade até o dia clarear
Ai que vida boa, ô lerê,
ai que vida boa, ô lará
O estandarte do sanatório geral vai passar
Ai que vida boa, ô lerê,
ai que vida boa, ô lará
O estandarte do sanatório geral... vai passar

Samba e Amor



Samba e Amor
Chico Buarque


Eu faço samba e amor até mais tarde
E tenho muito sono de manhã
Escuto a correria da cidade que arde
E apressa o dia de amanhã
De madrugada a gente 'inda se ama
E a fábrica começa a buzinar
O trânsito contorna, a nossa cama reclama
Do nosso eterno espreguiçar
No colo da bem vinda companheira
No corpo do bendito violão


Eu faço samba e amor a noite inteira
Não tenho a quem prestar satisfação


Eu faço samba e amor até mais tarde
E tenho muito mais o que fazer
Escuto a correria da cidade. Que alarde!
Será que é tão difícil amanhecer?
Não sei se preguiçoso ou se covarde
Debaixo do meu cobertor de lã


Eu faço samba e amor até mais tarde
E tenho muito sono de manhã.

sábado, 12 de maio de 2012

Feliz Dia das Mães!


Para Sempre

Carlos Drummond Andrade

Por que Deus permite
que as mães vão-se embora?
Mãe não tem limite,
é tempo sem hora,
luz que não apaga
quando sopra o vento
e chuva desaba,
veludo escondido
na pele enrugada,
água pura, ar puro,
puro pensamento.
Morrer acontece
com o que é breve e passa
sem deixar vestígio.
Mãe, na sua graça,
é eternidade.
Por que Deus se lembra
- mistério profundo -
de tirá-la um dia?
Fosse eu Rei do Mundo,
baixava uma lei:
Mãe não morre nunca,
mãe ficará sempre
junto de seu filho
e ele, velho embora,
será pequenino
feito grão de milho.

terça-feira, 1 de maio de 2012

Desejo um mês de muita paz!

http://universohenrique.blogspot.com.br/2011/09/paisagens.html

Madre Teresa


"A solidão é a mais terrível pobreza."
..................................... Mother Teresa

domingo, 28 de agosto de 2011

Maya Angelou

I KNOW WHY THE CAGED BIRD SINGS

A free bird leaps on the back of the wind
and floats downstream till the current ends
and dips his wing in the orange suns rays and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage
can seldom see through his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.
The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn and he names the sky his own.
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.