Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long

Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long

Travelling

Tarde da noite recoloco a casa toda em seu
Lugar.
Guardo os papéis todos que sobraram.
Confirmo para mim a solidez dos cadeados.
Nunca mais te disse uma palavra.
Do alto da serra de Petrópolis,
com um chapéu de ponta e um regador,
Elizabeth reconfirma, “Perder
É mais fácil que se pensa”.
Rasgo os papéis todos que sobraram.
“Os seus olhos pecam, mas seu corpo
não”, dizia o tradutor preciso, simultâneo,
e suas mãos é que tremiam. “É perigoso”,
ria a Carolina perita no papel kodak.
A câmera em rasante viajava.
A voz em off nas montanhas, inextinguível
fogo domado da paixão, a voz
do espelho dos meus olhos,
negando-se a todas as viagens,
e a voz rascante da velocidade,
de todas as três bebi um pouco
sem notar
como quem procura um fio.
Nunca mais te disse
uma palavra, repito, preciso alto,
tarde da noite,
enquanto desalinho
sem luxo
sede
agulhadas
os pareceres que ouvi num dia interminável:
sem parecer mais com a luz ofuscante desse
mesmo dia interminável.

Ana Cristina César

Anyone can see this photo All rights reserved

Uploaded on Mar 1, 2012  |  Map

1 comment

 
Wherefore are we counted as beasts and reputed vile in your sight

Wherefore are we counted as beasts and reputed vile in your sight

E que dificuldade de falar!
Nem palavras nem códigos: apenas
montanhas e montanhas e montanhas
oceanos e oceanos e oceanos.

C.D.A.

(And how hard to talk!
Neither words nor codes:only
mountains and mountains and mountains
oceans and oceans and oceans.)

Anyone can see this photo All rights reserved

Uploaded on Dec 28, 2011  |  Map

2 comments

 
when most I wink

when most I wink

Anyone can see this photo All rights reserved

Uploaded on Jul 19, 2011  |  Map

7 comments

 
far away so close

far away so close

i said send me someone so subtle so
not like an umbrella opening inside my
heart in slowmo
not like a motorcycle smashing my left
hand oh no

no someone was sent me and soon
i was left with this silent super moon

Anyone can see this photo All rights reserved

Uploaded on Mar 20, 2011

10 comments

 
narcissus

narcissus

As a child, they could not keep me from wells
And old pumps with buckets and windlasses.
I loved the dark drop, the trapped sky, the smells
Of waterweed, fungus and dank moss.

One, in a brickyard, with a rotted board top.
I savoured the rich crash when a bucket
Plummeted down at the end of a rope.
So deep you saw no reflection in it.

A shallow one under a dry stone ditch
Fructified like any aquarium.
When you dragged out long roots from the soft mulch
A white face hovered over the bottom.

Others had echoes, gave back your own call
With a clean new music in it. And one
Was scaresome, for there, out of ferns and tall
Foxgloves, a rat slapped across my reflection.

Now, to pry into roots, to finger slime,
To stare, big-eyed Narcissus, into some spring
Is beneath all adult dignity. I rhyme
To see myself, to set the darkness echoing.

Seamus Heaney

Anyone can see this photo All rights reserved

Uploaded on Nov 23, 2010  |  Map

22 comments

← prev 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
(197 items)
Subscribe to a feed of stuff on this page... Subscribe to gagah's photostream – Latest | geoFeed | KML