sexta-feira, 17 de janeiro de 2025

Jesse Welles - Middle



simple men within the temple chanted low oh gracious light while savages beneath the stars charted souls projected flights with their axes and their swords put away for the night cometh song cometh dance cometh lute and cometh pipe the road warrior nazareth patriot was sighing Zion in excess while the lord and god of faces donned a youthful chain and dress you have heard it said make it great again make your own self great that's a good place to begin begin when the devil plays his fiddle I'm gonna meet ya in the middle friend with my silver droid companion beeping at my side as we gazed into the moonset wondring where in space we'd hide all the green skinned princes in systems far away saying proverbs I can't mean in a language I can't say and if these alkaloids illicited the origins of my mind then why's the jackelope approaching winking both its beady eyes oh ye wizards of ineptitude you've conspired for my end as the flames of hell come rolling on the santa ana wind wind when the devil plays his fiddle I'm gonna meet ya in the middle friend I road a steamboat through the jungle with a fever and a rod cursing all that dared to live cursing me and thee and god and the arrows of the natives lept forth and skewered me don't we come here in a wonder don't we leave in mystery mystery when we rode into that salt lake it was dead as hope itself and we beached the damned craft seeking death to no avail there will be no hell to pay nah hell has came and went there is no one left to kill there is sand and that is it it when the devil plays his fiddle I'm gonna see ya in the middle friend

terça-feira, 31 de dezembro de 2024

Ofiússa


 Ao território onde hoje fica Portugal os gregos antigos chamaram Ofiússa. A Terra das Serpentes.

domingo, 8 de dezembro de 2024

Os livros de Dezembro. Giorgio Agamben - "O Irrealizável"


 

Serguei Iessiénin. "Em cima do vento, embaixo da lua".

Em cima do vento, embaixo da lua Árvore prateada fica toda nua. Uma concertina chora tão sozinha, Ao mesmo tempo alheia e minha. A canção selvagem chora e gargalha: Cadê a minha tília, a tília centenária? Nunca volta aquela hora matutina, Que para meu bem eu toque concertina. Como não sou nada mais para meu bem, Rio e choro ao som da canção de outrem. Tradução: Tatiana Karpechenko Перевод Татьяны Карпеченко O texto original: Над окошком месяц. Под окошком ветер. Облетевший тополь серебрист и светел. Дальний плач тальянки, голос одинокий — И такой родимый, и такой далёкий. Плачет и смеётся песня лиховая. Где ты, моя липа, липа вековая? Я и сам когда-то в праздник спозаранку Выходил к любимой, развернув тальянку. А теперь я милой ничего не значу. Под чужую песню и смеюсь, и плачу..


terça-feira, 3 de dezembro de 2024

A Holiday Gift: Maria João Pires’ Stunning 2024 Festival Performance


F. Chopin, Nocturnes, Op. 9 I. Larghetto II. Andante III. Allegretto W.A. Mozart, Sonata No. 10 in C Major, K. 330 I. Allegro moderato II. Andante cantabile III. Allegretto C. Debussy, Suite Bergamasque I. Prélude II. Menuet III. Clair de lune IV. Passepied W.A. Mozart, Sonata No. 13 in B-flat Major, K. 333 I. Allegro II. Andante cantabile III. Allegretto grazioso C. Debussy, Pour le piano I. Prélude II. Sarabande III. Toccata

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