8.12.18
6.12.18
Árvore rumorosa pedestal da sombra
sinal de intimidade decrescente
que a primavera veste pontualmente
e os olhos do poeta de repente deslumbra
Receptáculo anónimo do espanto
capaz de encher aquele que direito à morte passa
e no ar da manhã inconsequentemente traça
o rasto desprendido do seu canto
Não há inverno rigoroso que te impeça
de rematar esse trabalho que começa
na primeira folha que nos braços te desponta
Explodiste de vida e és serenidade
e imprimes no coração mais fundo da cidade
a marca do princípio a que tudo remonta
Ruy Belo
22.10.18
Like water
Water does not resist. Water flows. When you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is a caress. Water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. But water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. Water is patient. Dripping water wears away a stone. Remember that, my child. Remember you are half water. If you can't go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does.
Margaret Atwood
5.9.18
2.8.18
Já dizia Napoleão: “para entender um homem há que entender o mundo em que vivia aos vinte anos”.
aqui
19.7.18
30.6.18
Escuto mas não sei
Se o que oiço é silêncio
Ou Deus
Escuto sem saber se estou ouvindo
O ressoar das planícies do vazio
Ou a consciência atenta
Que nos confins do universo
Me decifra e fita
Apenas sei que caminho como quem
É olhado amado e conhecido
E por isso em cada gesto ponho
Solenidade e risco
Sophia, Geografia
4.5.18
like flowers
We think a flower on a cliff is beautiful because we stop our feet at the cliff's edge unable to step out into the sky like that fearless flower.
Tite Kubo - Sosuke Aizen, Flower on the Precipice
9.4.18
3.4.18
10.2.18
7.2.18
6.2.18
18.1.18
14.1.18
Mar
somewhere
i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any
experience,your eyes have their silence:
in
your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or
which i cannot touch because they are too near
your
slightest look easily will unclose me
though
i have closed myself as fingers,
you
open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching
skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose
or
if your wish be to close me,i and
my
life will shut very beautifully,suddenly,
as
when the heart of this flower imagines
the
snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing
which we are to perceive in this world equals
the
power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels
me with the colour of its countries,
rendering
death and forever with each breathing
(i
do not know what it is about you that closes
and
opens;only something in me understands
the
voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not
even the rain,has such small hands
e.e.cummings
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