Sons da Escrita 079



José Martins Garcia (1)
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Compasso a compasso, palavra a palavra, alinham-se, rigorosos, os sons da escrita.

Quando um homem interroga a água pura dos sentidos e ousa caminhar, serenamente, os esquecidos atalhos de todas as memórias, acontecem viagens — viagens entre o quase tudo e o quase nada.

Então, da raíz dos nervos da memória surge a planta de uma vida escutada no silêncio dos sons da escrita.

Sons da Escrita – à volta de uma ideia de José-António Moreira.



O problema das origens (José Martins Garcia)

No começo era a pulga
depois deus criou o gato
depois a raça que julga
sublimar-se em celibato
chegou a vez da carraça
seguida da sanguessuga
depois a febre da raça
depois o mito da fuga

depois do sangue sugado
depois da treta espremida
restou a puta da vida
celebrizada no fado




From the beginning (Emerson, Lake & Palmer)

There might have been things I missed
But don't be unkind
It don't mean I'm blind
Perhaps there's a thing or two

I think of lying in bed
I shouldn't have said
But there it is

You see it's all clear
You were meant to be here
From the beginning

Maybe I might have changed
And not been so cruel
Not been such a fool
Whatever was done is done
I just can't recall
It doesn't matter at all

You see it's all clear
You were meant to be here
From the beginning


Gato nocturno (José Martins Garcia)

À noite nos beirais
passeia-se a sereia
e a lua violada
sugere cada ideia

jogar à bisca entre os seios da donzela
implantar a anarquia
partir a trela
rasgar os cortinados
pular pela janela
ir cear anjos doces
com canela




One night (Barclay James Harvest)

You took all my money
I gave you no name
My love and my money
Did you think I would chase it in the rain?
My eyes are now open
But what do I see?
One ride after midnight
Had I thought it would mean that much to me?

Everybody needs someone to love
Everybody needs a friend
Everybody needs someone to care
Do you think you can make it in the end?
Do you think that you can make it, my friend?

I thought it was easy
But what did I know
Of old men and first blood
Or the drunk who gets taken blow by blow?

The dice are all loaded
You pay by the throw
But you pay the loser
Seems the rain is turning into snow

We stand round your doorways
You hang on the walls
Your frames are your windows
Put your bodies on the stalls
You take all our money
We leave you no name
We're dealt just the one card
But the dealer plays in every game


Gato marinheiro (José Martins Garcia)

Lá vem a nau catrineta
não tem nada que contar
mal o capitão vê terra
põe-se a bombordo a zurrar

Já lá vai mais de ano e dia
que andam na volta do mar
enraízam na acalmia
já não têm mais que sonhar

e na mudez do discurso
fulgurante e lapidar
decidiram com orgulho
viver de patas p’ró ar 




Too proud (Noa)

Too proud to admit that love is gone
Too proud to admit the falling from Eden
Too proud to admit, and much too strong
The landing was rough,
And the seat belt unfastened

Now it's gone away
(And you gotta let go)
Now it's gone away
(There's nothing to fear)
Now it's gone away
(And you gotta let go)
It's gone away

Concentrate, concentrate
Reinstate your former state of mind
Concentrate, concentrate
Reinvent yourself with space and time

Your name is kin to the winds, sister
You're kin to the winds, sister
But you've an alabaster frame

And you're too proud to admit that love is gone
Too proud to admit the falling from Eden
Too proud to admit, and much too strong
The landing was rough,
And the seat belt unfastened

Your name is kin to the stars, sister
You're kin to the stars, sister
But now your perfect body's maimed

Still you're too proud to admit that love is gone
Too proud to admit....




No bicho que existe no meu coração, na rota traçada na palma da mão ,no crescer da onda que espera alvorada, no nascer da pomba que aguarda algemada,
na frincha que racha este chão de lama, na espera da vida onde a vida chama,
desenho mendigos, desenho acrobatas, esboço castigos e gente de gatas.

Com amizade: David Spillane, Andy Summers, Emerson, Lake & Palmer, Barclay James Hervest, Noa, José Martins Garcia e José-António Moreira.

And in the end
the love you'll take
is equal to the love you make

Posted: sex - setembro 8, 2006 at 10:38 AM          

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