segunda-feira, 29 de agosto de 2011

Meio-dia

Meio-dia. Um canto da praia sem ninguém.
O sol no alto, fundo, enorme, aberto.
Tornou o céu de todo o deus deserto.
A luz cai implacável como um castigo.
Não há fantasmas nem almas,
E o mar imenso solitário e antigo
Parece bater palmas.

Sophia de Mello Breyner Andresen, Poesia, Lisboa, Caminho, 2003

Leopoldo Pomés, Revista Grua, 1957

sábado, 27 de agosto de 2011

J'attendrai le suivant

“To feel my hand so kindly prest,
To know myself beloved at last,
To think my heart has found a rest,
My life of solitude is past!

But then to wake and find it flown,
The dream of happiness destroyed,
To find myself unloved, alone,
What tongue can speak the dreary void?”


Anne Bronte


quarta-feira, 17 de agosto de 2011

Mad Girl’s Love Song

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell’s fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan’s men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you’d return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

(I think I made you up inside my head.)

Sylvia Plath (1932-1963)

Three on a Match, de Mervyn Le Roy, 1932

sábado, 13 de agosto de 2011

Noite de Lua Cheia

"If the moon smiled, she would resemble you.
You leave the same impression
Of something beautiful, but annihilating."

Sylvia Plath




segunda-feira, 1 de agosto de 2011

Pausa

Pierrot le fou, de Jean-Luc Godard, 1965
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