9.29.2006

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MY GARDEN IN SEPTEMBER


9.23.2006

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THE WINDS ARE CHANGING
On beauty
One hour devoted to the pursuit of Beauty
And Love is worth a full century of glory
Given by the frightened weak to the strong.

From that hour comes man's Truth; and
During that century Truth sleeps between
The restless arms of disturbing dreams.

In that hour the soul sees for herself
The Natural Law, and for that century she
Imprisons herself behind the law of man,
And she is shackled with irons of oppression.
KAHLIL GIBRAN
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Unidentified artist

9.22.2006

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VAGABUNDA DE SONHOS
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Distante Melodia
Num
sonho de Íris morto a oiro e brasa,
Vem-me lembranças doutro tempo azul
Que me oscilava entre véus de tule –
Um tempo esguio e leve, um tempo-asa
Então os meus sentidos eram cores,
Nasciam num jardim as minhas ânsias,
Havia na minha alma outras distâncias –
Distancias que o segui-las era flores...
Caía oiro se pensava estrelas,
O luar batia sobre o meu alhear-me...
– noites-lagoas, como éreis belas
– sob terraços-lis de recordar-me!...
Idade acorde de inter-sonho e Lua
Onde as horas corriam sempre jade,
Onde a neblina era uma saudade,
E a luz – anseios de Princesa nua ...
Balaústres de som, arcos de amar,
Pontes de brilho, ogivas de perfume...
Domínio inexprimível de ópio e lume
Que nunca mais, em cor, hei – de habitar...
Tapetes de outras Pérsias mais Oriente...
Cortinados de Chinas mais marfim...
Áureos templos de ritos de cetim...
Fontes correndo sombra, mansamente...
Zimbórios-panteões de nostalgias,
Catedrais de ser – eu por sobre o mar ...
Escadas de honra, escadas só, ao ar ...
Novas Bizancios –
Alma, outras Turquias...
Lembranças fluidas ...cinza de brocado ...
Irrealidade anil que em mim ondeia ...
Ao meu redor eu sou Rei exilado,
Vagabundo dum sonho de sereia...
Mário de Sá-Carneiro
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Unidentified artist

9.21.2006

time

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NOW
THE ESSENCE OF TIME

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Listen to the Exhortation of the Dawn
Look to this day.
For it is life, the very life of life.
In its brief course lie all the verities and realities of your
existence.
The bliss of growth;
The glory of action;
The splendor of beauty;
For yesterday is already a dream,
and tomorrow is only a
vision;
But today well lived, makes every yesterday
A dream of happiness, and every tomorrow a vision of
hope.
Look well, therefore, to this day!
Such is the salutation of the Dawn.

Ancient Sanskrit poem

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Manipulation byM

9.19.2006

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DIFERENTE MAS IGUAL
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CASAS CAIADAS

Por entre casas caiadas
de luar e de silêncio,
paira no meio da estrada
a poeira de outros tempos...

Por entre casas caiadas,
mas com desgraca por dentro
(o varandas enfeitadas
com trepadeiras de vento!),

algumas desmanteladas,
de apodrecidas empenas
(todavia nos telhados
antenas e cataventos...),

por entre casas caiadas,
por entre casas (Silêncio,
que ronda o medo na estrada
em automóveis cinzentos!),

ha jorros de luz salgada,
ha torrentes de veneno...

E dentro daquelas casas
quando foi que nos morremos?
David Mourao-Ferreira

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GeorgiaOKeeffe

9.15.2006

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ARE YOU READY FOR THE RESPONSIBILITY
OF KNOWING THE TRUTH?
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"Oh what a tangled web we weave, When first we practise to deceive!"
Walter Scott
POST inspired by one of my favorite
and fellow bloggers
IMAGES
From the movie
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9.14.2006

Hallelujah (Leonard Cohen) - Allison Crowe live tv version

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GREAT WOMEN
Having the courage to reveal one's soul
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No Coward Soul Is Mine

No coward soul is mine,
No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere:
I see Heaven's glories shine,
And faith shines equal, arming me from fear.
O God within my breast,
Almighty, ever-present Deity!
Life--that in me has rest,
As I--undying Life--have power in thee!
Vain are the thousand creeds
That move men's hearts: unutterably vain;
Worthless as withered weeds,
Or idlest froth amid the boundless main,
To waken doubt in one
Holding so fast by thine infinity;
So surely anchored on
The stedfast rock of immortality.
With wide-embracing love
Thy spirit animates eternal years,
Pervades and broods above,
Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates, and rears.
Though earth and man were gone,
And suns and universes ceased to be,
And Thou were left alone,
Every existence would exist in Thee.
There is not room for Death,
Nor atom that his might could render void:
Thou--THOU art Being and Breath,
And what THOU art may never be destroyed
Emily Bronte
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Emily Bronte

9.13.2006

Hallelujah

9.12.2006

Kurt Nilsen Espen Lind Askilholm Alejandro

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NADA SOMOS QUE O MOMENTO
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Nada fica de nada. Nada somos.

Nada fica de nada. Nada somos.
Um pouco ao sol e ao ar nos atrasamos
Da irrespirável treva que nos pese
Da humilde terra imposta,
Cadáveres adiados que procriam.

Leis feitas, estátuas vistas, odes findas –
Tudo tem cova sua. Se nós carnes
A que um íntimo sol dá sangue, temos
Poente, por que não elas?
Somos contos contando contos, nada
RICARDO REIS
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Collage M

9.11.2006

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JUST BECAUSE IT'S BEAUTIFUL
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Jeff Buckley - live on canal - Hallelujah

Now I've heard there was a secret chord
hat David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this he fourth, the fifth
the minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah


Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew her
She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah


You say I took the name in vain
I don't even know the name
But if I did, well, really, what's it to you?
There's a blaze of light in every word
It doesn't matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah


I did my best, it wasn't much
I couldn't feel, so I learned to touch
I've told the truth,I didn't come to fool you
And even though it all went wrong
I'll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my lips but Hallelujah


Baby, I've been here before.
I know this room, I've walked this floor.
I used to live alone before I knew you.
I've seen your flag on the marble arch,
But love is not some kind of victory march,
No it's a cold and it's a very broken Hallelujah.


There was a time you let me know
What's really going on below,
but now you never show it to me, do you?
I remember when I moved in you,
And the holy dove was moving too,
and every breath we drew was Hallelujah.


Now maybe there's a God above,
As for me, all I ever learned from love
Is how to shoot at someone who outdrew you.
and it's no complaint you hear tonight,
and It's not some pilgrim who's seen the ligh
tit's a cold and it's a very lonely Hallelujah.


Leonard Cohen

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Rosso Fiorentino

9.08.2006

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SONHAR DE OLHOS ABERTOS
Ó VÉSPERA DO PRODÍGIO
Creio nos anjos que andam pelo mundo,
Creio na deusa com olhos de diamantes,
Creio em amores lunares com piano ao fundo,
Creio nas lendas, nas fadas, nos atlantes,
Creio num engenho que falta mais fecundo
De harmonizar as partes dissonantes,
Creio que tudo é étero num segundo,
Creio num céu futuro que houve dantes,
Creio nos deuses de um astral mais puro,
Na flor humilde que se encosta ao muro,
Creio na carne que enfeitiça o além,
Creio no incrível, nas coisas assombrosas,
Na ocupação do mundo pelas rosas,
Creio que o amor tem asas de ouro. Ámen.
NATÁLIA CORREIA

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BOUCHER FRANCOIS

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STILL GREAT AFTER ALL THIS YEARS
SANTANA - OYE COMO VA

9.07.2006

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MY SOUL COMES FROM AFRICA
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to the Diaspora

you did not know you were Afrika
When you set out for Afrika
you did not know you were going.
Because
you did not know you were Afrika.
You did not know the Black
continent
that had to be reached
was you.
I could not have told you then that some sun
would come,
somewhere over the road,
would come evoking the diamonds
of you, the Black continent--
somewhere over the road.
You would not have believed my mouth.
When I told you, meeting you somewhere close
to the heat and youth of the road,
liking my loyalty, liking belief,
you smiled and you thanked me
but very little believed
me.
Here is some sun. Some.
Now off into the places rough to reach.
Though dry, though drowsy, all unwillingly a-wobble,
into the dissonant and dangerous crescendo.
Your work, that was done, to be done to be done to be
done.
Gwendolyn Brooks
IMAGE
Unidentified artist

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LOVEEEEE
the young
RANDY CRAWFORD
The Crusaders - Street Life

9.06.2006

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METÁFORAS
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Deste modo ou daquele modo,
Conforme calha ou não calha,
Podendo às vezes dizer o que penso,
E outras vezes dizendo-o mal e com misturas,
Vou escrevendo os meus versos sem querer,
Como se escrever não fosse uma cousa feita de gestos,
Como se escrever fosse uma cousa que me acontecesse
Como dar-me o sol por fora.

Procuro dizer o que sinto
Sem pensar em que o sinto.
Procuro encostar as palavras à ideia
E não precisar dum corredor
Do pensamento para as palavras.
Nem sempre consigo sentir o que sei que devo sentir.
O meu pensamento só muito devagar atravessa o rio a nado
Porque lhe pesa o fato que os homens o fizeram usar.

Procuro despir-me do que aprendi,
Procuro esquecer-me do modo de lembrar que me ensinaram,
E raspar a tinta com que pintaram os sentidos,
Desencaixotar as minhas emoções verdadeiras,
Desembrulhar-me e ser eu, não Alberto Caeiro,
Mas um animal humano que a Natureza produziu.

E assim escrevo, querendo sentir a Natureza, nem sequer
[como um homem,
Mas como quem sente a Natureza, e mais nada.
E assim escrevo, ora bem, ora mal,
Ora acertando com o que quero dizer, ora errando,
Caindo aqui, levantando-me acolá,
Mas indo sempre no meu caminho como um cego teimoso.
Ainda assim, sou alguém.
Sou o Descobridor da Natureza,
Sou o Argonauta das sensações verdadeiras.
Trago ao Universo um novo Universo
Porque trago ao Universo ele-próprio.

Isto sinto e isto escrevo
Perfeitamente sabedor e sem que não veja
Que são cinco horas do amanhecer
E que o sol, que ainda não mostrou a cabeça
Por cima do muro do horizonte,
Ainda assim já se lhe vêem as pontas dos dedos
Agarrando o cimo do muro
Do horizonte cheio de montes baixos.
Alberto Caeiro
IMAGE
Evelyn de Morgan

9.05.2006

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VISIONS

Ah, fill the Cup - what boots it to
repeat
How Time is slipping underneath
our Feet:
Unborn TOMORROW, and dead
YESTERDAY,
Why fret about them if TODAY be
sweet!
* * * * * *
How long, how long, in infinite
Pursuit
Of This and That endeavour and
dispute?
Better be merry with the fruitful
Grape
Than sadden after none, or bitter,
Fruit.
* * * * * *
With Earth's first Clay They did the
Last Man's knead.
And then of the Last Harvest sow'd
the Seed:
Yea, the first Morning of Creation
wrote
What the Last Dawn of Reckoning
shall read.
RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM
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Unidentified artist

9.03.2006

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BIG BANDS
In The Mood

GLENN MILLER

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CIDADÃ DOS QUATRO VENTOS
NO WAY OUT

Sei hoje que sou pequeno
e não é esse o meu menor mal
mas faco meus os problemas
da gente de beavar canal

Nasci numa aldeia perdida
nestes caminhos de portugal
mas tanto tenho irmãos aqui
como os tenho em beavar canal

Eu a miséria da minha terra
contemplei-a ao natural
enquanto vi no cinema
como se vive em beavar canal

Mais do que a pedra mais do que a árvore
o homem é para mim real
e tanto sofre a dois passos de mim
como sofre em beavar canal

Não há pais que não seja meu
em qualquer parte morro pois sou mortal
mas aproveito a forca da rima
para dizer que a minha rua é beavar canal

Morra eu dividido aos quatro ventos
seja o legado sentimental
fique no mundo onde ficar
deixo o meu coraçäo a beavar canal
Rui Belo
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Unidentified artist