Sons da Escrita 173





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.



Vêm ao fim da tarde (Carlos Corga)

vêm ao fim da tarde
onde a noite é mais doce
esperam
na espera de muito pouco
um gesto um afago
trazem no olhar
a profundidade dos tempos
o enigma
onduleiam como se dançassem
em pistas imaginárias
afastam-se no silêncio dos corpos
são os gatos
que vêm à minha rua





Love in the afternoon (Marianne Faithfull)

It's getting dark outside
Daytime is done.
The lights along the river come up
One by one.
Let's make love again
We got time.
I am yours
You are mine.

It's getting dark outside
I have to go.
Don't want my husband
Or my friends to know.
Zip up my dress ...
I can't find my shoes.
Don't fall in love with me
Too much to lose.

The kids are home by now
Have to think fast.
I really think this afternoon
Must be the last.
Don't say anything,
Don't turn on the light.
Thanks for loving me,
Call you tonight.



As portas da cidade fecham-se (Carlos Corga)

as portas da cidade fecham-se
entre a sombra e o silêncio
o medo enche as praças
percorre as ruas e os caminhos
a morte viaja.
ao longe o mensageiro
rasga o tempo e avança
traz no olhar
a dor nos rostos das crianças
traz nas mãos
a paz azul verde do mar





Soldiers of peace (Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young)

Soldiers of peace are not fighting a war
Are not looking for enemies behind every door
Are not looking for people to kill or to maim.
Soldiers of peace are just changing the game.

Men who were fighting for all of our lives
Are now fighting for children, for homes and for wives,
Fighting for the memory of all who fell before,
But the soldiers of peace just can't kill any more.

So come all you warriors who live for the fight,
Come listen to somebody, someone who might
Have been there before you and they have the right,
They've been dying to tell you the score.
The old warriors don't want you to hurt any more.

Soldiers of peace can still hear the cries
When the people were screaming and losing their lives,
When bodies were broken and spirits were torn
The soldiers of peace do not want you to mourn.

So come all you warriors who live for the fight,
Come listen to somebody, someone who might
Have been there before you and they have the right,
They've been dying to tell you the score.
The old warriors don't want you to hurt any more.

Soldiers of peace are not fighting a war.
No more! No more! No more! No more!



Na angústia do vazio (Carlos Corga)

na angústia do vazio
do poema inacabado
folheio o livro da memória amordaçada
no muro de silêncio
ergue-se o medo em cada folha
onde se esconde
o registo das palavras censuradas
e no encanto do encontro
com a palavra agrilhoada
rebento as amarras
rasgo a mordaça
abro as portas
solto o grito de revolta
da palavra libertada





Empty room (Gary Moore)

Loneliness is your only friend.
A broken heart that just won't mend
is the price you pay.

It's hard to take when love grows old.
The days are long and the nights turn cold
when it fades away.

You hope that she will change her mind,
but the days drift on and on.
You'll never know the reason why she's gone.

Empty rooms, where we learn to live without love.
Empty rooms, where we learn to live without love.
Empty rooms, where we learn to live without love.

You see her face in every crowd.
You hear her voice, but you're still proud,
so you turn away.

You tell yourself that you'll be strong.
But your heart tells you,
this time you're wrong.

Empty rooms, where we learn to live without love.
Empty rooms, where we learn to live without love.
Empty rooms, where we learn to live without love.

You hope that she will change her mind,
but the days drift on and on.
You'll never know the reason why she's gone.

Empty rooms, where we learn to live without love.
Empty rooms, where we learn to live without love.
Empty rooms, where we learn to live without love.

Empty rooms, where we learn to live without love.
Empty rooms, where we learn to live without love.
Empty rooms, where we learn to live without love.
Empty rooms, where we learn to live without love.



Vagueio no silêncio (Carlos Corga)

vagueio no silêncio
corto as amarras
que prendem as pontes
fecho o círculo dos sonhos
arranco as raízes dos tempos
deito-me na terra seca sem vida
esqueço quem sou
entro na noite
percorro outros caminhos
na busca do outro
que sou eu





Searchin' (Carlos Santana)

Searchin’, I’m always searchin’
Searchin’ for my beloved
I’m gonna keep on searchin’ ‘cause
I need your love, yea
Listen, my heart is callin’
Longing to have you near me
Please believe me what I’m sayin’
is true
Every morning I wake up to you
Searchin’, searchin’, searchin’,
searchin’
Every night my thoughts return to
calling you
Lover, don’t keep me waiting
You must hear what I’m saying
I’m gonna keep on searchin’ till I win
your love
I can almost hear her gentle voice
Searchin’, searchin’, searchin’,
searchin’
I can almost hear her smile of light
Searchin’, searchin’, searchin’,
searchin’
I can almost feel the love reach out
to me





o tempo escapa-se
por entre os dedos das mãos
cerradas sobre gumes de relógios
com ponteiros derrotados
que se arrastam sem sentido
num destino oferecido à nascença
numa bandeja de nada





Com amizade: Davy Spillane, KevOz, Marianne Faithfull, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, Gary Moore, Carlos Santana, Carlos Corga e José-António Moreira

Sejam felizes!, pelo menos, nos próximos minutos, nas próximas horas, nos próximos dias… no resto das vossas vidas, se forem capazes!

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

Posted: sex - maio 23, 2008 at 12:00 AM          

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