30.4.09
4.3.09
Não me esqueci...
Mas há sempre tantas paixões no ar :) Que não dá para acorrer a todas :)
Vou voltar com mais assiduidade, prometemos :)
20.2.08
8.8.07
24.7.07
Soneto de Fidelidade
De tudo ao meu amor serei atento
Antes, e com tal zelo, e sempre, e tanto
Que mesmo em face do maior encanto
Dele se encante mais meu pensamento.
De tudo ao meu amor serei atento
Antes, e com tal zelo, e sempre, e tanto
Que mesmo em face do maior encanto
Dele se encante mais meu pensamento.
E assim, quando mais tarde me procure
Quem sabe a morte, angústia de quem vive
Quem sabe a solidão, fim de quem ama
Eu possa me dizer do amor (que tive):
Que não seja imortal, posto que é chama
Mas que seja infinito enquanto dure.
(Até um dia meu anjo)
Vinícius de Moraes
25.6.07
Modelo copiado
Acabo de copiar o meu modelo preferido... sempre dá menos trabalho q editar o HTML todo novamente...
1.6.07
28.5.07
22.5.07
24.4.07
16.4.07
10.4.07
4.4.07
3.4.07
E de que valeu dizer tudo o que sentia?
Quero-te dizer que paguei caro por ter feito isso. Não valeu a pena. Na minha acomodação, escolhi o caminho mais fácil de percorrer; mas deu tudo errado... E afinal de contas eu sou a pessoa mais sincera que conheço. Sempre deixei isso tudo muito, muito às claras. Acredito que todos sabiam exactamente como eu me sentia.Excepto tu... e depois deste tempo continuas a não saber, ou a fingir que não sabes... E de que valeu?
2.4.07
The Broken Heart

The Broken Heart
He is stark mad, who ever says
That he had been in love an hour;
Yet not that love so soon decays,
But that it can ten in less space devour;
Who will believe me, if I swear
That I have had the plague a year?
Who would not laugh at me, if I should say
I saw a flask of powder burn a day?
Ah, what a trifle is a heart,
If once into love's hands it come!
All other griefs allow a part
To other griefs, and ask themselves but some;
They come to us, but Love draws,
He swallow us, and never chaws:
By him as by chain'd shot, whole ranks to die;
He is the tyrant pike, our hearts the fry.
If'twhere not so, what did become
Of my heart, when I first saw thee?
I brought a heart into the room,
But from the room I carried none with me:
If I had gone to thee, I know
Mine would gave taught thine heart to show
More pity unto me: but Love, alas,
At one first blow did shiver it as glass.
Yet nothing can to nothing fall,
Nor any place be empty quite,
Therefore I think my breast hath all
Those pieces still, though they be not unite;
And now, as broken glasses show
A hundred lesser faces, so
My rags of heart can like, wish and adore,
But after one such love, can love no more.
That he had been in love an hour;
Yet not that love so soon decays,
But that it can ten in less space devour;
Who will believe me, if I swear
That I have had the plague a year?
Who would not laugh at me, if I should say
I saw a flask of powder burn a day?
Ah, what a trifle is a heart,
If once into love's hands it come!
All other griefs allow a part
To other griefs, and ask themselves but some;
They come to us, but Love draws,
He swallow us, and never chaws:
By him as by chain'd shot, whole ranks to die;
He is the tyrant pike, our hearts the fry.
If'twhere not so, what did become
Of my heart, when I first saw thee?
I brought a heart into the room,
But from the room I carried none with me:
If I had gone to thee, I know
Mine would gave taught thine heart to show
More pity unto me: but Love, alas,
At one first blow did shiver it as glass.
Yet nothing can to nothing fall,
Nor any place be empty quite,
Therefore I think my breast hath all
Those pieces still, though they be not unite;
And now, as broken glasses show
A hundred lesser faces, so
My rags of heart can like, wish and adore,
But after one such love, can love no more.
John Donne
19.3.07
Soneto XXV
Antes de amarte, amor, nada era mío:
vacilé por las calles y las cosas:
nada contaba ni tenia nombre:
el mundo era del aire que esperaba.
Yo conocí salones cenicientos,
túneles habitados por la luna,
hangares crueles que se despedíam,
preguntas que insistían en la arena.
Todo estaba vacío, muerto y mudo,
caído, abandonado y decaído,
todo era inalienablemente ajeno,
todo era de los otros y de nadie,
hasta que tu belleza y tu pobreza
llenaron el otoño de regalos.
Pablo Neruda
Cien sonetos de amor
15.3.07
Teu Segredo
Flores envenenadas na jarra.Roxas azuis, encarnadas, atapetam o ar.
Que riqueza de hospital.
Nunca vi mais belas e mais perigosas.
É assim então o teu segredo.
Teu segredo é tão parecido contigo
Que nada me revela além do que já sei.
E sei tão pouco como se o teu enigma fosse eu.
Assim como tu és o meu.
Clarice Lispector
12.3.07
9.3.07
Much Better...
If I kiss you where it's sore
If I kiss you where it's sore
Will you feel better, better, better
Will you feel anything at all
Will you feel better, better, better
Will you feel anything at all
Born like sisters to this world
In a town where blood ties are only blood
If you never say your name out loud to anyone
They can never ever call you by it
If I kiss you where it's sore
If I kiss you where it's sore
Will you feel better, better, better
Will you feel anything at all
Will you feel better, better, better
Will you feel anything at all
You're getting sadder, getting sadder, getting sadder, getting sadder
And I don't understand, and I don't understand
But if I kiss you where it's sore
If I kiss you where it's sore
Will you feel better, better, better
Will you feel anything at all
Will you feel better, better, better
Will you feel anything at all
Anything at all
Will you feel anything at all
Anything at all
Will you feel anything at all
Anything at all...
Regina Spektor - Better
-a-sunday-on-la-grande-jattegrey.jpg)









