tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36650208441083436092024-02-20T11:37:15.075-01:00Retrato das Palavras / Picturing WordsAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09599190914983321684noreply@blogger.comBlogger455125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665020844108343609.post-77101512464185114602008-06-22T12:00:00.001+00:002008-06-22T12:03:48.224+00:00O vento<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mariarego/18966783/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/12/18966783_91cf61f326.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mariarego/18966783/">Canas (plumas)</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/mariarego/">Maria Rego</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> <i><b><br />O VENTO<br /></b><br />Queria transformar o vento.<br />Dar ao vento uma forma concreta e apta a foto.<br />Eu precisava pelo menos de enxergar uma parte física do vento: uma costela, o olho...<br />Mas a forma do vento me fugia que nem as formas de uma voz.<br />Quando se disse que o vento empurrava a canoa do índio para o barranco<br />Imaginei um vento pintado de urucum a empurrar a cadoa do índio para o barranco.<br />Mas essa imagem me pareceu imprecisa ainda.<br />Estava quase a desistir quando me lembrei do menino montado no cavalo do vento - que lera em Shakespeare.<br />Imaginei as crinas soltas do vento a disparar pelos prados com o menino.<br />Fotografei aquele vento de crinas soltas.<br /><b><br />Manoel de Barros </b>em - Ensaios Fotográficos. Rio de Janeiro: Record, 2005</i></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09599190914983321684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665020844108343609.post-44172860592415892432008-06-22T11:58:00.001+00:002008-06-22T12:03:06.223+00:00We live in...<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/joe_taruga/64470418/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/24/64470418_17c821a19f.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/joe_taruga/64470418/">Cores de vida...</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/joe_taruga/">Joe Taruga</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> “<i>We live in a rainbow of chaos.</i>”<br /><br /><b>Paul Cezanne</b></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09599190914983321684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665020844108343609.post-63033138581018036282008-06-05T15:39:00.001+00:002008-06-22T12:02:02.203+00:00Finding a treasure...<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ana_maria_/42999352/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/27/42999352_5f50e983e5.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ana_maria_/42999352/">Rio de Janeiro, Brasil</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/ana_maria_/">ana_maria_</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> <i><br /><br /><br />A photographer who made a picture from a splendid moment, an accidental pose of someone or a beautiful scenery, is the finder of a treasure.<br /><br /><b>Robert Doisneau</b></i></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09599190914983321684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665020844108343609.post-91586245685014726532008-06-03T21:34:00.001+00:002008-06-03T21:38:18.649+00:00O Gato<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gracinha08/1937161855/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2001/1937161855_c036e82704.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gracinha08/1937161855/">Bolota</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/gracinha08/">Graça Vargas</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> <i><br />Vai e vem. O passo<br />deixa no soalho,<br />menos que um traço,<br />um fio escasso<br />de ócio e borralho.<br /><br />Clara é a pupila<br />onde não chove<br />e que, tranqüila,<br />no ermo cintila,<br />mas não se move<br /><br />A pose é exata<br />a de uma esfinge<br />da cauda à pata,<br />nada o arrebata<br />ou mesmo o atinge.<br /><br />Aguça o dente,<br />as unhas lima:<br />brinca, pressente<br />‑ e, de repente,<br />o pulo em cima.<br /><br />A voz é como<br />sussurro de onda;<br />infla-lhe o pomo,<br />túmido gomo<br />que se arredonda.<br /><br />Lúdico e astuto,<br />eis sua sorte:<br />alheio a tudo,<br />ilha sem susto<br />o tempo e a morte.<br /><br /><br />O Gato - <b>Ivan Junqueira<br /></b></i></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09599190914983321684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665020844108343609.post-69876340603608727582008-05-30T10:36:00.001+00:002008-05-30T10:39:02.372+00:00Se eu pudesse...<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/joe_taruga/3846258/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/2/3846258_f4c022ab59.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/joe_taruga/3846258/">Adormecer tranquilo...</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/joe_taruga/">Joe Taruga</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> <i><br />SE EU PUDESSE trincar a terra toda<br />E sentir-lhe um paladar,<br />Seria mais feliz um momento...<br />Mas eu nem sempre quero ser feliz,<br />É preciso ser de vez quando infeliz<br />Para se poder ser natural...<br /><br />Nem tudo é dias de sol,<br />E a chuva, quando falta muito, pede-se.<br />Por isso tomo a infelicidade com a felicidade<br />Naturalmente, como quem não estranha <br />Que haja montanhas e planícies<br />E que haja rochedos e erva...<br /><br />O que é preciso é ser-se natural e calmo<br />Na felicidade ou na infelicidade,<br />Sentir como quem olha,<br />Pensar como quem anda,<br />E quando se vai morrer, lembrar-se de que o dia morre,<br />E que o poente é belo e é bela a noite que fica...<br />Assim é e assim seja...<br /><br /><br /><b><br />Alberto Caeiro</i></b></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09599190914983321684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665020844108343609.post-1283329879030562162008-05-30T10:34:00.001+00:002008-05-30T10:38:03.332+00:00Vôo<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/azorina/1484969375/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1007/1484969375_9b4c261841.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/azorina/1484969375/">Butterfly ... and friends...</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/azorina/">Azorina</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> <i><br /><br /><br /><br />Alheias e nossas as palavras voam.<br />Bando de borboletas multicores, as palavras voam<br />Bando azul de andorinhas, bando de gaivotas brancas,<br />as palavras voam.<br />Viam as palavras como águias imensas.<br />Como escuros morcegos como negros abutres, as palavras voam.<br /><br />Oh! alto e baixo em círculos e retas acima de nós, em redor de nós as<br />palavras voam.<br />E às vezes pousam. <br /><br /><br /><br />Vôo - <b>Cecília Meireles</b></i><br /><br />~~~~</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09599190914983321684noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665020844108343609.post-12581559126580186952008-05-30T10:32:00.001+00:002008-05-30T10:37:36.976+00:00It's not what you look at...<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/elielfj/2106988708/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2223/2106988708_6f39f73b30.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/elielfj/2106988708/"></a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/elielfj/">Eliel Freitas Jr</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> <i><br /><br /> It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see.<br /><br /> <br /><b>Henry David Thoreau</b></i></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09599190914983321684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665020844108343609.post-47539653799847419642008-05-26T11:16:00.001+00:002008-05-26T11:20:52.752+00:00The camera...<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jimsk/384960041/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/135/384960041_e30ad4fc60.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jimsk/384960041/">Formato Quadrado [Square Format]</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/jimsk/">Jim Skea</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> <i>'The camera makes everyone a tourist in other people's reality, and eventually in one's own.'<br /><br /><b>Susan Sontag</i></b></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09599190914983321684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665020844108343609.post-5026870609202641402008-05-26T11:14:00.001+00:002008-05-26T11:19:57.923+00:00Arte-final<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jimsk/389496973/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/168/389496973_32d4f2637b.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jimsk/389496973/">Oblivious</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/jimsk/">Jim Skea</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> <i><br /><br /><br />Não basta um grande amor<br />para fazer poemas.<br />E o amor dos artistas, não se enganem,<br />não é mais belo<br />que o amor da gente.<br />O grande amante é aquele que silente<br />se aplica a escrever com o corpo<br />o que seu corpo deseja e sente.<br />Uma coisa é a letra,<br />e outra o ato,<br />quem toma uma por outra<br />confunde e mente.<br /><br /><b><br />Arte-final <br />(Affonso Romano de Sant'Anna)</i></b></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09599190914983321684noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665020844108343609.post-10541456221165498382008-05-18T11:16:00.001+00:002008-05-18T11:18:24.187+00:00No silêncio dos olhos<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mariarego/164493138/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/52/164493138_4dcce4e05c.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mariarego/164493138/">Verdilhão (Carduelis chloris)</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/mariarego/">Maria Rego</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> <i><br />No silêncio dos olhos<br /><br />Em que língua se diz, em que nação,<br />Em que outra humanidade se aprendeu<br />A palavra que ordene a confusão<br />Que neste remoinho se teceu?<br />Que murmúrio de vento, que dourados<br />Cantos de ave pousada em altos ramos<br />Dirão, em som, as coisas que, calados,<br />No silêncio dos olhos confessamos?<br /><b> <br />José Saramago, in Os Poemas Possíveis<br /></i></b></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09599190914983321684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665020844108343609.post-59149684743655730082008-05-17T18:49:00.001+00:002008-05-17T18:54:22.196+00:00Just play...<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gracinha08/2417475924/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3243/2417475924_3cca100c55.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gracinha08/2417475924/">The time tunnel</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/gracinha08/">Graça Vargas</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> <i><br /><br />"Just play. Have fun. Enjoy the game." <br /><br /><b>Michael Jordan</b></i></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09599190914983321684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665020844108343609.post-82800156277857704082008-05-17T18:47:00.001+00:002008-05-17T18:53:31.199+00:00Os versos que te fiz<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/elielfj/1553976267/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2023/1553976267_a83389b055.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/elielfj/1553976267/">Jô em BSB</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/elielfj/">Eliel Freitas Jr</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> <i><br /><br />Deixa dizer-te os lindos versos raros<br />Que a minha boca tem pra te dizer!<br />São talhados em mármore de Paros<br />Cinzelados por mim pra te oferecer.<br /><br />Têm dolência de veludos caros,<br />São como sedas pálidas a arder...<br />Deixa dizer-te os lindos versos raros<br />Que foram feitos pra te endoidecer!<br /><br />Mas, meu Amor, eu não tos digo ainda...<br />Que a boca da mulher é sempre linda<br />Se dentro guarda um verso que não diz!<br /><br />Amo-te tanto! E nunca te beijei...<br />E nesse beijo, Amor, que eu te não dei<br />Guardo os versos mais lindos que te fiz!<br /><br />Os versos que te fiz - <b>Florbela Espanca</b></i></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09599190914983321684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665020844108343609.post-81075452028674417722008-05-17T18:46:00.001+00:002008-05-17T18:52:49.749+00:00Os Cisnes<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/azorina/231375871/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/65/231375871_b699107734.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/azorina/231375871/">Silhuettes of art (III) ...</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/azorina/">Azorina</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> <i><br />A vida, manso lago azul algumas<br />Vezes, algumas vezes mar fremente,<br />Tem sido para nós constantemente<br />Um lago azul, sem ondas nem espumas.<br /><br />Bem cedo quando, desfazendo as brumas<br />Matinais, rompe um sol vermelho e quente,<br />Nós dois vagamos indolentemente,<br />Como dois cisnes de alvacentas plumas.<br /><br />Um dia um cisne morrerá, por certo...<br />Quando chegar esse momento incerto,<br />No lago onde talvez a água se tisne,<br /><br />Que o cisne vivo cheio de saudade<br />Nunca mais cante, nem sozinho nade,<br />Nem nade nunca ao lado d'outro cisne.<br /><br /><b>"Os Cisnes"<br />Júlio Mário Salusse</i></b></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09599190914983321684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665020844108343609.post-3423607475915384002008-05-17T18:43:00.001+00:002008-05-17T18:51:39.850+00:00Cantares do Sem Nome e de Partidas<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/joe_taruga/906502275/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1056/906502275_47738bf8c3.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/joe_taruga/906502275/">Emotions...</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/joe_taruga/">Joe Taruga</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> <i><br /><br />Que este amor não me cegue nem me siga.<br />E de mim mesma nunca se aperceba.<br />Que me exclua do estar sendo perseguida<br />E do tormento<br />De só por ele me saber estar sendo.<br />Que o olhar não se perca nas tulipas<br />Pois formas tão perfeitas de beleza<br />Vêm do fulgor das trevas.<br />E o meu Senhor habita o rutilante escuro<br />De um suposto de heras em alto muro.<br /><br />Que este amor só me faça descontente<br />E farta de fadigas. E de fragilidades tantas<br />Eu me faça pequena. E diminuta e tenra<br />Como só soem ser aranhas e formigas.<br /><br />Que este amor só me veja de partida.<br /> <br />Cantares do Sem Nome e de Partidas<br /><b>Hilda Hilst</b></i></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09599190914983321684noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665020844108343609.post-48921611563826280102008-05-05T16:51:00.001+00:002008-05-05T16:57:40.414+00:00Um amigo...<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ana_santander/2438799162/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2107/2438799162_86fb50b664.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ana_santander/2438799162/">Sobre a felicidade</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/ana_santander/">Ana Santander</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> <b><i><br />“Não há prazer comparável ao de encontrar um velho amigo, a não ser o de fazer um novo.”<br /></b><br />Rudyard Kipling<br /></i></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09599190914983321684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665020844108343609.post-65648621495876515162008-05-05T16:49:00.001+00:002008-05-05T16:56:47.928+00:00O sorriso<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ana_santander/325921110/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/139/325921110_e1ce1b313e.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ana_santander/325921110/">Sorriso e olhar que iluminam...</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/ana_santander/">Ana Santander</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> <i><br /><br /><br />Creio que foi o sorriso,<br />O sorriso foi quem abriu a<br />porta.<br />Era um sorriso com<br />muita luz<br />lá dentro, apetecia<br />entrar nele, tirar a roupa,<br />ficar<br />nu dentro daquele<br />sorriso.<br />Correr, navegar, morrer<br />naquele sorriso.<br /><br />O sorriso<br /><b>Eugénio de Andrade </b>in «O Outro Nome da Terra»</i><br /><br />~~</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09599190914983321684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665020844108343609.post-43719337708573375042008-05-05T16:48:00.001+00:002008-05-05T16:56:06.309+00:00Long Sight In Age<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ana_maria_/2260743553/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2191/2260743553_0c5bc3de25.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ana_maria_/2260743553/">Jardim Botânico, Rio</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/ana_maria_/">ana_maria_</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> <b>Long Sight In Age</b><br /> <br />They say eyes clear with age,<br />As dew clarifies air<br />To sharpen evenings,<br />As if time put an edge<br />Round the last shape of things<br />To show them there;<br />The many-levelled trees,<br />The long soft tides of grass<br />Wrinkling away the gold<br />Wind-ridden waves- all these,<br />They say, come back to focus<br />As we grow old.<br /><br /><b>Philip Larkin</b></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09599190914983321684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665020844108343609.post-72332432830249473502008-05-05T16:47:00.001+00:002008-05-05T16:55:07.373+00:00Eles não têm asas...<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rosario_marques/1233609461/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1099/1233609461_2a9d266a32.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rosario_marques/1233609461/">Em vôo</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/rosario_marques/">Rosario_Marques</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> <i><br /> Que difícil que é a vida dos homens, pensou ela. Eles não têm asas para voar por cima das coisas más.<br /></i><b><br />Sophia de Mello Breyner Andresen, in <i> A Fada Oriana</i> <br /></b></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09599190914983321684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665020844108343609.post-36002871563438202592008-05-05T16:45:00.001+00:002008-05-05T16:54:35.154+00:00Prece<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/joe_taruga/267072252/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/88/267072252_4fdf832322.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/joe_taruga/267072252/">Para ti eu criarei...</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/joe_taruga/">Joe Taruga</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> <i><br />Que nenhuma estrela queime o teu perfil<br />Que nenhum deus se lembre do teu nome<br />Que nem o vento passe por onde tu passas<br /><br />Para ti eu criarei um dia puro<br />Livre como o vento e repetido<br />Como o florir das ondas ordenadas.<br /></i><b><br />(Prece – Sophia de Mello Breyner Andresen)<br /></b></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09599190914983321684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665020844108343609.post-31622915163637643182008-04-24T10:00:00.001+00:002008-04-24T10:09:40.792+00:00O mais-que-perfeito<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ana_maria_/2371679991/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2415/2371679991_9e2293b969.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ana_maria_/2371679991/">Ipanema</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/ana_maria_/">ana_maria_</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> <i><br /><br /><br />Ah, quem me dera ir-me<br /> Contigo agora<br />Para um horizonte firme<br /> (Comum, embora...)<br />Ah, quem me dera ir-me!<br /><br />Ah, quem me dera amar-te<br /> Sem mais ciúmes<br />De alguém em algum lugar<br /> Que não presumes...<br />Ah, quem me dera amar-te!<br /><br />Ah, quem me dera ver-te<br /> Sempre a meu lado<br />Sem precisar dizer-te<br /> Jamais: cuidado...<br />Ah, quem me dera ver-te!<br /><br />Ah, quem me dera ter-te<br /> Como um lugar<br />Plantado num chão verde<br /> Para eu morar-te<br />Morar-te até morrer-te...<br /><br /><b><br />O mais-que-perfeito - Vinicius de Moraes </b><br />in Para viver um grande amor (crônicas e poemas)</i><br /><br />~~~~</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09599190914983321684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665020844108343609.post-62346392114809378972008-04-24T09:59:00.001+00:002008-04-24T10:09:02.990+00:00If you want to lie...<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/azorina/710737672/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1284/710737672_40cfdcc816.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/azorina/710737672/">Ilusões ...</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/azorina/">Azorina</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> <i><br /><br />To understand photographs, I believe you have to understand that the camera just shows what it shows. Photography may be moving, exciting, compassionate, or clever. But the camera cannot lie. Neither can a slide rule, a balance. If you want to lie, you have to do it with words.<br /><br /><b>John Loengard</i></b></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09599190914983321684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665020844108343609.post-69344286298785892602008-04-24T09:57:00.001+00:002008-04-24T10:07:49.465+00:00Why do colors ...sing?<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jimsk/2348586788/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2225/2348586788_5d332e2d8e.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jimsk/2348586788/">A Entrega do Chá [The Tea Delivery]</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/jimsk/">Jim Skea</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> <i><br /><br />Why do two colors, put one next to the other, sing? Can one really explain this? no. Just as one can never learn how to paint.<br /><br /><b><br />Pablo Picasso </b></i></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09599190914983321684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665020844108343609.post-35536987546937193102008-04-13T23:16:00.001+00:002008-04-13T23:23:34.370+00:00Spring is in the air...<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/isolano/440701840/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/177/440701840_55389fa223.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/isolano/440701840/">When spring comes</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/isolano/">isolano</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> <i><br />Spring is in the air<br />And you can smell it on the breeze<br />Spring is in the air<br />You can feel it in your bones<br />You cant help feeling happy<br />You cant help feeling lively<br />Spring is in the air<br />You can kiss it everyday<br />Spring is in the air<br />You can love in its' warm embrace<br />So smile while spring is in the air<br />When you dont have a care<br />Because spring is in the air<br />Spring is in the air<br />Lovers come out to play<br />Spring is when love is in the air<br />So give your love a lovely bouquet<br />And sing, spring is in the air<br />Spring is in the air<br />So fall in love in spring<br />When spring is in the air<br /></i><b><br />allan james saywell <br /> </b></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09599190914983321684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665020844108343609.post-55695176271593297052008-04-13T23:14:00.001+00:002008-04-13T23:21:42.931+00:00The Rainbow<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/eloisa/259974961/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/87/259974961_942d168c38.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/eloisa/259974961/">Regenbogen</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/eloisa/">eloisavh</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> <i><br />The Rainbow<br /> <br />My heart leaps up when I behold<br />A Rainbow in the sky:<br />So was it when my life began;<br />So is it now I am a man;<br />So be it when I shall grow old,<br />Or let me die!<br />The Child is father of the man;<br />And I wish my days to be<br />Bound each to each by natural piety. <br /></i><b><br />William Wordswort <br /> </b></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09599190914983321684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665020844108343609.post-79567243494141777302008-04-13T23:10:00.001+00:002008-04-13T23:20:42.479+00:00Te amo, Vida, líquida esteira onde me deito...<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/azorina/2007273468/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2157/2007273468_b935df86c3.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/azorina/2007273468/">Reflexos na Lagoa das Furnas...</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/azorina/">Azorina</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> <i><br />Te amo, Vida, líquida esteira onde me deito<br />Romã baba alcaçuz, teu trançado rosado<br />Salpicado de negro, de doçuras e iras.<br />Te amo, Líquida, descendo escorrida<br />Pela víscera, e assim esquecendo<br />Fomes<br />País<br />O riso solto<br />A dentadura etérea<br />Bola<br />Miséria.<br />Bebendo, Vida, invento casa, comida<br />E um Mais que se agiganta, um Mais<br />Conquistando um fulcro potente na garganta<br />Um látego, uma chama, um canto. Amo-me.<br />Embriagada. Interdita. Ama-me. Sou menos<br />Quando não sou líquida.<br /><br /></i><b><br /> Hilda Hilst - (Alcoólicas - V)<br /></b></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09599190914983321684noreply@blogger.com0