Quando aqui não estás o que nos rodeou põe-se a morrer

Quando aqui não estás 

o que nos rodeou põe-se a morrer 

a janela que abre para o mar 

continua fechada só nos sonhos 

me ergo 

abro-a 

deixo a frescura e a força da manhã 

escorrem pelos dedos prisioneiros 

da tristeza 

acordo 

para a cegante claridade das ondas 

um rosto desenvolve-se nítido 

além 

rasando o sal da imensa ausência 

uma voz

quero morrer

com uma overdose de beleza

e num sussurro o corpo apaziguado

perscruta esse coração

esse

solitário caçador

| Al Berto |

neruda

I let go my words

To make room for your temper traps

The air dances to the farthest melody

As we live only though our transparent skin

We travel far

To try to understand

That no one can ever break this,

No one will ever break this promised land

I let go my voice

It's fragility will only make me strong

Your heart dances at a speed I'll never know

Your heart dances leaving mine out of control

We travel far

To try to understand

That no one can ever break this,

No one will ever break this promised land

We travel far

To try to understand

That no one can ever break this,

No one will ever break this promised land

| Neruda, Russian Red |

poesia

Terror de te amar num sítio tão frágil como o mundo

Mal de te amar neste lugar de imperfeição
Onde tudo nos quebra e emudece
Onde tudo nos mente e nos separa.

Que nenhuma estrela queime o teu perfil
Que nenhum deus se lembre do teu nome
Que nem o vento passe onde tu passas.

Para ti eu criarei um dia puro
Livre como o vento e repetido
Como o florir das ondas ordenadas.

| Sophia de Mello Breyner Andresen, in “Obra Poética” |
Fotografia: Henry Cartier-Bresson

eternal sunshine of the spotless mind

(...) How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd;
Labour and rest, that equal periods keep;
"Obedient slumbers that can wake and weep;"
Desires compos'd, affections ever ev'n,
Tears that delight, and sighs that waft to Heav'n.
Grace shines around her with serenest beams,
And whisp'ring angels prompt her golden dreams.
For her th' unfading rose of Eden blooms,
And wings of seraphs shed divine perfumes,
For her the Spouse prepares the bridal ring,
For her white virgins hymeneals sing,
To sounds of heav'nly harps she dies away,
And melts in visions of eternal day. (...)

| Eloisa to Abelard, by Alexander Pope |

- Hey listen, gimme a kiss.
- Really?
- Yeah, why not, because we're just gonna go home later, right, and then there's gonna be all that tension, we've never kissed before and I'll never know when to make the right move or anything. So we'll kiss now and get it over with, and then we'll go eat. We'll digest our food better.

          (Woody Allen e Diane Keaton, Annie Hall, 1977)

"freedom is what you do with what's been done to you"

jean-paul sartre

Sacha Van Dorssen - Fashion editorial for Vogue UK, 1972

blackbird's song

Take your things, leave somehow.

Blackbird song is over now.

River runs, hands are tied.

Preacher's son,

pack your things, leave somehow.

Desperate song is over now.

Don't be scared

I'm still here.

No more time for crying tears.

“It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.”

― Charles Dickens, Great Expectations