tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6942241384958637912024-03-05T20:53:55.326+00:00ciberpalheiroabel neveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753070390558205899noreply@blogger.comBlogger52125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-694224138495863791.post-1333542962280955282014-04-05T23:05:00.000+01:002014-04-05T23:05:13.427+01:00
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb1fiMxWR9db4xi1oRT2xo3_HG5MNjddrQ2lOGfrijjDTj8X6u_ZC-wOt6kaVzoJ6qBSAvnYyXCWSIXR94YErUewCjaflHfT-hOq5vgDnGEoAn8cH2UcTHWZI9vK8ckGeeHCWlbY8MLUo/s1600/bj3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb1fiMxWR9db4xi1oRT2xo3_HG5MNjddrQ2lOGfrijjDTj8X6u_ZC-wOt6kaVzoJ6qBSAvnYyXCWSIXR94YErUewCjaflHfT-hOq5vgDnGEoAn8cH2UcTHWZI9vK8ckGeeHCWlbY8MLUo/s1600/bj3.jpg" height="320" width="125" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 1.0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 1.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">entre os
novelos de feno e o luar</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">o sol a
dar-lhe e as noites</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 1.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">anel que
seja visto assim</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 1.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">que se vá
gastando até ao íntimo da pedra</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 1.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">nem
preciosa nem pobre</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">é um anel
de rios </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 1.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">e guarda a
ciência de mudar o céu em terra</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 1.0cm;">
<br /></div>
abel neveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753070390558205899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-694224138495863791.post-20594899980941487772014-04-04T22:44:00.002+01:002014-04-04T22:44:49.903+01:00
<style>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
topam-se por aí </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
entre pós<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>gravetos <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>números
de azul</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
andam à vista</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
abel neveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753070390558205899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-694224138495863791.post-79305184713903387172014-04-04T22:11:00.001+01:002014-04-04T22:45:49.844+01:00<style>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiveUtTjVbtQZSqOSciL8rnzBcb3lef2n7lv0GXFf5Mw8Hs3EOZcQLl8TYG3ObL4gc9VdTbgwSE_Hhi6DIvPYyShD8ptbPZo9yBc2AfNv6YhyPGrVThikOjbyYxNHMxX3oCwVwM-YTLTmc/s1600/proceo+heliogra%CC%81fico+a+mais+antiga+fotografia+no+mundo+Nice%CC%81phore+Nie%CC%80pce+1765-1833+foto+de+1825.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiveUtTjVbtQZSqOSciL8rnzBcb3lef2n7lv0GXFf5Mw8Hs3EOZcQLl8TYG3ObL4gc9VdTbgwSE_Hhi6DIvPYyShD8ptbPZo9yBc2AfNv6YhyPGrVThikOjbyYxNHMxX3oCwVwM-YTLTmc/s1600/proceo+heliogra%CC%81fico+a+mais+antiga+fotografia+no+mundo+Nice%CC%81phore+Nie%CC%80pce+1765-1833+foto+de+1825.jpg" height="209" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 9.35pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">se vou ao
mercado<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 9.35pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">pode
vir a estar na pupila da peixeira<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 9.35pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">ela
sorri e sorrindo vai sabendo</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 9.35pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">que
tem dentro o universo<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>o olho dele</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">mas
não o diz</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 9.35pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
abel neveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753070390558205899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-694224138495863791.post-27917175674323326972013-01-11T22:45:00.001+00:002014-04-09T03:35:31.692+01:00ainda sobre as queimas<style>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj84_DExtuP99V6_vtbanrnEqBb-ebvQfb-ZVXJTWyzHlgheZ-LwqlgmWmd7Iq_fXARuWYgv_ffNqufRGl0KpYTYx26WysGTIbuJ_xtLXJYMKIKLV4BUl7NWKgaybvews9AqdDbxLzzdhY/s1600/IMG_7538.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj84_DExtuP99V6_vtbanrnEqBb-ebvQfb-ZVXJTWyzHlgheZ-LwqlgmWmd7Iq_fXARuWYgv_ffNqufRGl0KpYTYx26WysGTIbuJ_xtLXJYMKIKLV4BUl7NWKgaybvews9AqdDbxLzzdhY/s1600/IMG_7538.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">vem
agora a tontura do adeus</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 9.35pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">seríamos
felizes a largar balões</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 9.35pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">no
céu do são joão</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 9.35pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">adio<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 9.35pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">um
pouco mais de beijo e o deserto<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 9.35pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">um
pouco mais de arte e a miragem seria esta<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 9.35pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">os
balões de papel iluminados</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 9.35pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">subindo
e nós a vê-los</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 9.35pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">e à dor que está no cais</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 9.35pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">afastamo-nos
à vista do mundo</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 9.35pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">e
é tudo</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><i>Imagem: foto de Sonja Valentina [http://sonjavalentina.blogspot.pt/]</i> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 9.35pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
abel neveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753070390558205899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-694224138495863791.post-28221675146663043252012-10-13T12:58:00.001+01:002012-10-13T12:58:10.076+01:00
<style>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjupVt1-G8WLrH7L6h9elQbKnYCrKuo0KtJWTrwBUAeke-1X54h8YDOH103uXYB6UvDqlYb2BGfu4_uAfcnbk6Ep9ZBsfSV9cmRsX0TZzwPvnAwTLgpGFjah62nqlAFZ_kaAVkA-L3Yndo/s1600/DSC02553.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjupVt1-G8WLrH7L6h9elQbKnYCrKuo0KtJWTrwBUAeke-1X54h8YDOH103uXYB6UvDqlYb2BGfu4_uAfcnbk6Ep9ZBsfSV9cmRsX0TZzwPvnAwTLgpGFjah62nqlAFZ_kaAVkA-L3Yndo/s1600/DSC02553.JPG" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
se não se nota o que um poeta diz</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
que há-de ele fazer?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
a brisa vai</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
os pássaros voam e recolhem-se</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
é assim</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
as tais mãos verdadeiras</div>
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se não forem vistas<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>usadas</div>
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não mostram</div>
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não oferecem os grãos de luz</div>
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e é neles que se recolhem os pássaros</div>
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e os versos inúteis</div>
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um poeta diz qualquer coisa parecida </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
com o que está além do horizonte</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
e pronto</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
abel neveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753070390558205899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-694224138495863791.post-87046980738089299362012-05-04T15:13:00.000+01:002012-05-04T15:13:11.123+01:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ9fVxCzRKOa3IiukUYZeuMhf08NdpoDm4drlvD8mbdORQmOUDB7xz15vsoMgZ65u89pxzcf3vwV1Veixz67TOKAfypHyR7Kg_iBd1T0NpJKOjirfp2GIRE_MRXEkKzwXONj0cR1FrEc4/s1600/406812_153908241390724_153896758058539_215995_1541844709_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ9fVxCzRKOa3IiukUYZeuMhf08NdpoDm4drlvD8mbdORQmOUDB7xz15vsoMgZ65u89pxzcf3vwV1Veixz67TOKAfypHyR7Kg_iBd1T0NpJKOjirfp2GIRE_MRXEkKzwXONj0cR1FrEc4/s320/406812_153908241390724_153896758058539_215995_1541844709_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
ao fim de anos sem conto<br />
uma antiguidade<br />
muitos anos a comer à mesma mesa<br />
interessando-se sempre pelo pão<br />
pelas migalhas<br />
compreendeu que se afastasse um pouco<br />
a cortina da janela<br />
teria mais luz<br />
<br />
<i>Imagem: Pintura de Teresa Dias Coelho</i>abel neveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753070390558205899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-694224138495863791.post-57762278152126730882012-04-11T18:10:00.000+01:002012-04-11T18:10:56.077+01:00javisol<style>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVIy8Xz5RhlB5lz_TlozHhHWQl1YJWB_mUOcf_F46hvkLzerr0RRAwyGQyF6I01FGAMNfgi_T-gqas0Dohv5JzVTFqlDBzJVKi8CPWNYx9cHyyWobam6d_UXiDta_yh1JuZc7Vnqyf4yI/s1600/morte+de+orfeu+albrecht+durer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVIy8Xz5RhlB5lz_TlozHhHWQl1YJWB_mUOcf_F46hvkLzerr0RRAwyGQyF6I01FGAMNfgi_T-gqas0Dohv5JzVTFqlDBzJVKi8CPWNYx9cHyyWobam6d_UXiDta_yh1JuZc7Vnqyf4yI/s320/morte+de+orfeu+albrecht+durer.jpg" width="253" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 14.15pt; margin-right: 14.2pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
Vi uma embalagem de <i>Javisol</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Há muito que não via. Dantes via mais <i>Javisol</i>. Fico talvez à
espera que a palavra diga um pouco mais do que anuncia com as suas letrinhas
bem juntas, estalando na visão, mas não pode anunciar mais do que o produto
dentro da embalagem. É lixívia que se propõe uma <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">brancura e desinfecção total sem estragar</i>. <i>Javisol</i> a escorrer de uma
ponta a outra do torrãozinho pátrio é que era. </div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 14.2pt 0.0001pt 14.15pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 14.2pt 0.0001pt 14.15pt; text-align: justify;">
<i>Imagem: Morte de Orfeu, de Albrecht Durer</i> </div>abel neveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753070390558205899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-694224138495863791.post-28410234788162260492012-03-27T23:02:00.001+01:002012-03-31T00:58:31.088+01:00a serpente aveludada<style>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBppR8Tw8r-foMJSkJj65Ax4BBuQ4Rv8WRQWurNzeGGqQq6U3GGuyvSiM0trsGg0RhF0x44OP4WmSH0YHa8pPYarPhtXP3R4eltL3kAKOoGbJYVJloAhGGPRJcfZUKpHLM2ZHn90Fzhdc/s1600/w+blake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBppR8Tw8r-foMJSkJj65Ax4BBuQ4Rv8WRQWurNzeGGqQq6U3GGuyvSiM0trsGg0RhF0x44OP4WmSH0YHa8pPYarPhtXP3R4eltL3kAKOoGbJYVJloAhGGPRJcfZUKpHLM2ZHn90Fzhdc/s320/w+blake.jpg" width="247" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 14.2pt 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
para não enlouquecer <br />
controlava-se</div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 14.2pt 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
controlando-se <br />
enlouqueceu<br />
<br />
<i>Imagem: "Tentação e queda de Eva", de William Blake</i> </div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 14.2pt 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>abel neveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753070390558205899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-694224138495863791.post-26984493362985990882012-02-29T01:08:00.000+00:002012-02-29T01:08:26.965+00:00pinchar do melro<style>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW-jDvzQTjnMtLQALtb-UGzq26gSjka9P4m_-Ll3kyAuHXugFgYnNOfoFOh_AxJSvzYpBbLYMkHq_CIZpwcecC2YYgytI1_N_cuPD30sjFvRkea11K-6B0amL7GllNTY8v7aTHMHTGpIY/s1600/duas+a%CC%81rvores+pito%CC%83es.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW-jDvzQTjnMtLQALtb-UGzq26gSjka9P4m_-Ll3kyAuHXugFgYnNOfoFOh_AxJSvzYpBbLYMkHq_CIZpwcecC2YYgytI1_N_cuPD30sjFvRkea11K-6B0amL7GllNTY8v7aTHMHTGpIY/s320/duas+a%CC%81rvores+pito%CC%83es.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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Ali, acima da
terra, não se dão as ervas. É domínio dos veios da árvore, um relevo de veios.
O melro pincha sobre as raízes visíveis, pincha à vontade, sem incomodar as
patas com os farripos verdes. E isso que importa no concerto das nações?
Nadinha. Vai valendo a putice dos mercados financeiros e outros miseráveis
entretenimentos. </div>abel neveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753070390558205899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-694224138495863791.post-48628791405539493332012-02-22T21:39:00.000+00:002012-02-22T21:39:27.844+00:00o artista pergunta<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKTlabw9gR9a356Tma5Tv79TL_vCq_K69PMcZux9JZczDcs51j5T20Q0SjhlTPD9Zon-7AoDQPkH-5g7CbItzeO8QVPF_tJsoYOVd03PJ5ZOzYr_e3JNyPNqJO6Wq9BIYdeomde7d74UU/s1600/burne+jones.noite.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKTlabw9gR9a356Tma5Tv79TL_vCq_K69PMcZux9JZczDcs51j5T20Q0SjhlTPD9Zon-7AoDQPkH-5g7CbItzeO8QVPF_tJsoYOVd03PJ5ZOzYr_e3JNyPNqJO6Wq9BIYdeomde7d74UU/s320/burne+jones.noite.jpg" width="220" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
nos últimos dias
do inverno </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
e a neve não lhe
escorre nos lábios </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
o artista dá uns
passos adiante com a gaiola na mão</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
afinal <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>por onde anda a beleza</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
a pergunta é tão
inofensiva que nem aos pássaros ofende </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
o artista crê
que a gaiola é uma luzerna antiga </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
pousa-a </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
a paisagem
ilumina-se </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
então<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>ele espera</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Imagem: Noite, de Edward Burne-Jones<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<!--EndFragment-->abel neveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753070390558205899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-694224138495863791.post-61838543676292326012012-02-13T15:43:00.002+00:002012-02-13T19:50:38.826+00:00umbigos e sistemas<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2GSJ4NLldf8UVY534-AGizk74ToDFYm0DxY2pbdsW1uWAC4oRACLCulvakTKJsO3VXjKdl4hPBRKn6G2YuIjm1qPkbAAVfxVSZGMQg70LgoVCV9-qIx86iK9SGyVWjMpJ_a9WBxYltH4/s1600/13022012(002).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2GSJ4NLldf8UVY534-AGizk74ToDFYm0DxY2pbdsW1uWAC4oRACLCulvakTKJsO3VXjKdl4hPBRKn6G2YuIjm1qPkbAAVfxVSZGMQg70LgoVCV9-qIx86iK9SGyVWjMpJ_a9WBxYltH4/s320/13022012(002).jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
Dos sistemas de
Ptolomeu e de Copérnico, mais ou menos, vamo-nos lembrando, mas será que nos
vem à lembrança o sistema proposto por Tycho-Brahe, o astrónomo dinamarquês da
segunda metade do século dezasseis? Na gravura – de um manual português de geografia
do século dezoito – estão desenhados os três sistemas. O de Ticho-Brahe é o C.
Nele, a Terra está ao centro e em volta giram a Lua e o Sol, e em redor do Sol
giram os planetas conhecidos na época, Mercúrio, Vénus, Marte, Júpiter e
Saturno. No último círculo, também em volta da Terra, gira o manto de estrelas.
Não se tornou o sistema mais seguido, mas teve uma verdade observada que lhe
garantiu a discussão e a possibilidade. Havendo por aí tantos umbigos que são o
centro do universo, haveria o sistema de Ticho-Brahe, ou mesmo o de Ptolomeu, de
perder o seu fascínio?</div>abel neveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753070390558205899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-694224138495863791.post-24859555316399037972012-01-26T14:38:00.000+00:002012-01-26T14:38:40.161+00:00<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqZvPQJhlOT86cRLRJ0KCFE5dK1T0k_hEFqWIDRZE-eKZbg1wzsV-WpOKidIntBC-Cc1FyoAU0ct3Urm4qWacUqx7oKhrcgkoPCf_iwZI510nNwhVsQ4_3qBJslaI6LI57r5JLBrcLc_Q/s1600/26012012%2528007%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqZvPQJhlOT86cRLRJ0KCFE5dK1T0k_hEFqWIDRZE-eKZbg1wzsV-WpOKidIntBC-Cc1FyoAU0ct3Urm4qWacUqx7oKhrcgkoPCf_iwZI510nNwhVsQ4_3qBJslaI6LI57r5JLBrcLc_Q/s320/26012012%2528007%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
faça-se campanha por um lugar ao norte</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
às portas do céu</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
época de feiras e lareiras</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
andam os bichos ao bom frio e já não as nuvens ao relento</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
no eiró no café do rato</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
um bom licor de sabugueiro</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
para deitar a voz aos deuses</div>
<!--EndFragment-->abel neveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753070390558205899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-694224138495863791.post-89579419459959550192012-01-26T12:23:00.000+00:002012-01-26T12:23:42.086+00:00<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt_btgvJ_HNcv60TiymVaSFQz-Z_gOeGXAv5DuAYXaE2aFfY6iC4ZlvgsbMhmZTtfijKEoBexZsWDLddUVZNuHf4v-PLM4MhXobhjicvVaYtUmngY011bPIEwtO7CXorVLhiKHTsVOrMo/s1600/24012012%2528027%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt_btgvJ_HNcv60TiymVaSFQz-Z_gOeGXAv5DuAYXaE2aFfY6iC4ZlvgsbMhmZTtfijKEoBexZsWDLddUVZNuHf4v-PLM4MhXobhjicvVaYtUmngY011bPIEwtO7CXorVLhiKHTsVOrMo/s320/24012012%2528027%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
um céu que se oferece não exige esforço</div>
<!--EndFragment-->abel neveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753070390558205899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-694224138495863791.post-16010222355215496582012-01-13T00:29:00.000+00:002012-01-13T00:29:33.275+00:00reposição<style>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1LamwI0JQiCu1-2m4mbqQbIl5_XvrG-5YrfccuhzZ5vzn7wkAKB4O_eb9keWjjxHDKy-yuv1N4hNvq4Qo3u0wOo2YmB0c0dRSZVFEjeDDrAXJAs-nAvcxdQkQG3jodmWmAaOk2t5K7Ic/s1600/leitora.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1LamwI0JQiCu1-2m4mbqQbIl5_XvrG-5YrfccuhzZ5vzn7wkAKB4O_eb9keWjjxHDKy-yuv1N4hNvq4Qo3u0wOo2YmB0c0dRSZVFEjeDDrAXJAs-nAvcxdQkQG3jodmWmAaOk2t5K7Ic/s1600/leitora.jpg" /></a></div>
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às vezes
gosta-se tanto de um livrinho que até se gosta mais de o não ler. ficamos ali à
voltas do título e do miolo como no mítico bife com ovo a cavalo – isto se
acreditarmos em Barthes -<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>torneando a carne, banhando-a persistentemente com o molho, recortando o
ovo, repensando a arte ser carnívoro. goste-se pouco ou muito das edições
digitais, um livro é ainda aquela coisa que traz, por exemplo, o aroma das
margens do Nilo. o livro é vegetal até ao fim da alma.</div>abel neveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753070390558205899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-694224138495863791.post-34926293046975762972012-01-11T00:29:00.000+00:002012-10-13T12:59:10.432+01:00rapariga na piscina com biquini amarelo<br />
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<br /></div>
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<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 9.35pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
posso fazer-lhe um elogio?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 9.35pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
ao sol é mais do que um astro</div>
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muito mais do que a lua</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 9.35pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
continue deitada<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>menina</div>
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outros lhe hão-de louvar a beleza</div>
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não dizendo nada</div>
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não imagina que lhe dedico palavras</div>
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há uma arte</div>
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que é o de trazer secreto o íntimo desejo</div>
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vá<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>vá dormindo
na vida</div>
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dar-se conta de que estou eu aqui</div>
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talvez lhe desse desacerto nos dias<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>talvez</div>
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que importância tem abril neste caso?</div>
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morreremos<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>eu
sem lhe dar o beijo</div>
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e a menina sem o saber</div>
<!--EndFragment--></div>
abel neveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753070390558205899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-694224138495863791.post-76243704068726042942012-01-02T15:10:00.000+00:002012-01-03T10:44:14.267+00:00teatro<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY46xUqZAJ8PEoWoSLAcZEhdKpcORJeAMQ8-SaMXFJS2YbtxrRK88_JcJa-POzp4P1pyWc1rczFxgPuk-Po-VWE4B_E4Zp0E30PveB0VCTqbF57NoBAbgXVZnu_UBHW4L9UxsSb2s7Ri0/s1600/epidauro+vista+aerea" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY46xUqZAJ8PEoWoSLAcZEhdKpcORJeAMQ8-SaMXFJS2YbtxrRK88_JcJa-POzp4P1pyWc1rczFxgPuk-Po-VWE4B_E4Zp0E30PveB0VCTqbF57NoBAbgXVZnu_UBHW4L9UxsSb2s7Ri0/s320/epidauro+vista+aerea" width="236" /></a></div>
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Quando muita
coisa falha e a justiça fica escondida por vontade das ganâncias, e dá-se a
parecer que o teatro é um luxo que alguns teimam em manter com os seus brilhos
vindos da arte de ensaiar e transfigurar a vida, vem-me a lembrança de Epidauro e
a necessidade de lhe honrar a presença e não só a arquitectura, mas, sobretudo,
a gentileza de um encontro entre almas apaixonadas pela natureza dos mundos, os
que ainda conseguimos viver e os que andam além das nossas ilusões. A
responsabilidade de manter vivo esse lume é de todos nós, os que se interessam
por inventar outras almas e histórias e os que anseiam por visitar os lugares
onde podem desfrutar das invenções. Epidauro, todo o teatro, é a presença da
humanidade. Irreparável seria se houvesse esquecimento, sequer a tentação de
pensar que poderia ser esquecido. Simplesmente, já não será possível.
Continuemos, então, o luxo de Epidauro.</div>
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*</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<i>Imagem: Epidauro (foto: autoria desconhecida)</i></div>abel neveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753070390558205899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-694224138495863791.post-80360026317919259032012-01-02T13:29:00.000+00:002012-01-02T13:29:47.266+00:00natividade e representação<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ZACIJLOuK1AKpnjS14mv2EA5KAmZTRO3fEEcudPRoExALXdDjjxObErPK5djkSHHd9mPZ586iG3Oxbzkm0gQfxNeP-1oA55LOWb7BJAYTr647m_GYEhon4YMU4B0dqbu7YHk381osDQ/s1600/s.domingos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ZACIJLOuK1AKpnjS14mv2EA5KAmZTRO3fEEcudPRoExALXdDjjxObErPK5djkSHHd9mPZ586iG3Oxbzkm0gQfxNeP-1oA55LOWb7BJAYTr647m_GYEhon4YMU4B0dqbu7YHk381osDQ/s320/s.domingos.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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A crente esteve
sentada, e depois ajoelhada, na coxia, numa das fileiras de bancos quase diante
da cruz central da igreja. Enquanto rezou deixou pousado no banquinho em frente
o embrulho com o bolo-rei da pastelaria Suíça. A uns metros da imponente cruz, para
a sua esquerda, a imagem de um Cristo, colorido, redentor e com auréola. No
tempo que ali se demorou, notava-se que a devoção era maior do que tudo. Era um
tempo largo, sem contratempo, a não ser, talvez, a pressa feliz de levar o
bolo-rei para casa e colocá-lo no centro da mesa, rodeado de pinhões, sultanas,
rabanadas e aletria. A devota acabou a sua oração. Levantou-se, pegou no embrulho
da pastelaria Suíça, deu uns passos para a sua direita, colocando-se bem diante
da imagem de Cristo, e ajoelhou-se de novo, benzendo-se. Menorizou a cruz
central. Havendo uma e outra, preferiu o homem. </div>
<!--EndFragment-->abel neveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753070390558205899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-694224138495863791.post-13565095387522709202011-12-31T17:36:00.000+00:002012-01-01T00:10:39.886+00:00andemos<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Há neblina na
costa. A surpresa é a luz, não o húmido que gosta de cortinar a paisagem. É uma
pradaria sem bisontes, a costa, uma areal de visitas. Enquanto isso, vem uma
canção de Charles Trenet e pombos e pardais tomam banho na fonte do jardim. Há
o cheiro do pão, as pedras coloridas no jogo de xadrez e também as figurinhas
do Príncipe Valente. Escutai, ó almas!, a vida é isso - diz um espírito benigno
com sorriso e flor ao peito – andemos enquanto for o tempo.</div>
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*</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<i>Imagem: Going home, de Thomas Hart Benton</i></div>abel neveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753070390558205899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-694224138495863791.post-18142339498956349232011-12-30T10:59:00.000+00:002011-12-30T10:59:18.710+00:00olaia<br />
<div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg62KmFglljR_9YdJXI4Uoa3XGMNKilSnUfA8oeCJsoAm4dmnoOJGyIj5j7FfdXSeE5aWSv7-mJCqxiu9Z-28Eqiz-4S9uR4HHYjm2RAu-0klislm_4kqZZFY7lHxmER_dXDKVsg8IigMU/s1600/olaia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg62KmFglljR_9YdJXI4Uoa3XGMNKilSnUfA8oeCJsoAm4dmnoOJGyIj5j7FfdXSeE5aWSv7-mJCqxiu9Z-28Eqiz-4S9uR4HHYjm2RAu-0klislm_4kqZZFY7lHxmER_dXDKVsg8IigMU/s320/olaia.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
Os galhos da
olaia estão de inverno, sossegadas. Quando vierem os primeiros rasgos de rosa
vivo vai ser uma cantoria a dar fogo ao céu, e se ele for azul, sem as nuvens
de Goethe, melhor o lume. Uma categoria de galhos.</div>
<!--EndFragment--></div>abel neveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753070390558205899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-694224138495863791.post-8443650503408844272011-12-29T18:25:00.000+00:002011-12-30T20:18:35.148+00:00sem título<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0fvjzQdsCjkYQkOOLQJ7-_KFerwqIyV6X9J75IO6xCYc_rn-nAZ5Zm5n-H8gsLgJWuDEolPSLSEVnEXvdWG1GH_FWB-2j0U5qTkr-NpF4kLt5rWx-kviH2uBT0A4p2iUMpawfA3kQtFs/s1600/calenmaya.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0fvjzQdsCjkYQkOOLQJ7-_KFerwqIyV6X9J75IO6xCYc_rn-nAZ5Zm5n-H8gsLgJWuDEolPSLSEVnEXvdWG1GH_FWB-2j0U5qTkr-NpF4kLt5rWx-kviH2uBT0A4p2iUMpawfA3kQtFs/s320/calenmaya.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
Os dias crescem
por aqui e nem o Códice de Dresden - que ainda assegura a clarividência Maia no
quase nada que escapou à violência dos conquistadores espanhóis nos idos de
quinhentos - atrofia a luz que virá com o seu riso e borboletas. Parece que os hieróglifos
maias sugerem uma interrupção nas civilizações no solstício de
inverno de 2012. Uma crença na perturbação gerada pelos alinhamentos cósmicos,
mais a intensidade solar - garantida pela astronomia - são os motivos de força
maior. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Melancholia</i> de Lars von Trier
anda perto do sentimento da derrocada, querendo antecipar no cinema a
experiência da dissolução. Que o mundo anda com os nervos à flor da pele isso
parece ser o facto, embora haja lugares e gente com os corações tranquilos. Que
interessa aos mercados financeiros, aos especuladores da bolsa, o sono dos
faraós ou a dança dos pirilampos?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2GYHhndI83ZIgr5O6l7nDhqItwovO_e5q4asollSXtHNM6dd1P1w0iSgpIpvJVFqbyThIVibjldq7bfyYapHbYwnuntQnnktnN3Hc50kUEEW4s2BEVO92n0aWQQYOugNBmUFBHidXdgk/s1600/melancholia+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="128" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2GYHhndI83ZIgr5O6l7nDhqItwovO_e5q4asollSXtHNM6dd1P1w0iSgpIpvJVFqbyThIVibjldq7bfyYapHbYwnuntQnnktnN3Hc50kUEEW4s2BEVO92n0aWQQYOugNBmUFBHidXdgk/s320/melancholia+3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Imagem: Calendário Maia; Kirsten Dunst em
“Melancholia, de Lars von Trier<o:p></o:p></i></div>abel neveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753070390558205899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-694224138495863791.post-51600902440575152272011-12-24T16:16:00.000+00:002011-12-24T16:17:01.366+00:00esperança<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTtMDFiNTnBE4B1Ab30bbDMJt_21R7M9JKQdIYm9Y48LwFcYl4_r8tlZND6glrTk_0oMzB98bOW5Kl85CRWLWKPcNcAsBDLoqkQUDdLpHb2qrP2y2Rv74AVPgfmpPaZCCQEzc6fukOPCY/s1600/Ignacio_Pinazo_Camarlench_Rinco%25CC%2581n_del_jardi%25CC%2581n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTtMDFiNTnBE4B1Ab30bbDMJt_21R7M9JKQdIYm9Y48LwFcYl4_r8tlZND6glrTk_0oMzB98bOW5Kl85CRWLWKPcNcAsBDLoqkQUDdLpHb2qrP2y2Rv74AVPgfmpPaZCCQEzc6fukOPCY/s320/Ignacio_Pinazo_Camarlench_Rinco%25CC%2581n_del_jardi%25CC%2581n.jpg" width="252" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
Mestre, chefe,
patrão, vizinho, tudo nomes quando não se conhece o nome. A gritar, o talhante
corre atrás do homem, ó vizinho! ó vizinho! O homem para, reconhece o talhante
e volta atrás. Não é porque o céu está limpo de nuvens que o seu nome está
oculto no azul. Poderia haver uma esperança qualquer no acto de ser chamado. O
homem volta atrás e o talhante já não avança na rua. É um saquinho que o
talhante leva consigo e que o homem esqueceu no balcão do talho. O homem
agradece. Sempre deve agradecer-se um acto de gentileza. Sabe-se lá o que leva
o saco. Uma esperança qualquer. Sim, talvez.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
*</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<i>Imagem: Recanto de jardim, de Ignacio Pinazo</i></div>abel neveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753070390558205899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-694224138495863791.post-51686639305660553182011-12-19T22:26:00.000+00:002011-12-19T22:26:56.126+00:00inverno<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiz5BhFsbM1hKIDMUUt4azsnBbbg7e2SIjCtAQocxbfjh0Nv1YbmXs9-RDyMBwQGrhPWpHU5sPVawIAwuE4Pzijq-ALJtnmD7vSKVNRbWgV6luXrST4-H15MqenppXBH7hctm3p0gIRcU/s1600/Michelangelo_Caravaggio_019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiz5BhFsbM1hKIDMUUt4azsnBbbg7e2SIjCtAQocxbfjh0Nv1YbmXs9-RDyMBwQGrhPWpHU5sPVawIAwuE4Pzijq-ALJtnmD7vSKVNRbWgV6luXrST4-H15MqenppXBH7hctm3p0gIRcU/s320/Michelangelo_Caravaggio_019.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Se as coisas não fossem assim, seriam assado. É uma lei para
as coisas. Os Outonos carregam-se de frutos e possibilidades e há quem encontre
na música, num quarteto de Haydn, por exemplo, um abrigo para os dias menos
macios. Quem diz Haydn diz a música dos mestres. Pode ser que um verso sem método,
ainda com o aroma verde de um ouriço de castanha que se abre, escorregue do
coração aos lábios e ali fique, tal qual um som, à espera de alguém ou de um pássaro.
Depois, será Inverno.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Imagem: Natureza-morta, Michelangelo Caravaggio</i></div>
<!--EndFragment-->abel neveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753070390558205899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-694224138495863791.post-3919604879020757022011-12-01T01:48:00.001+00:002011-12-01T01:50:16.981+00:00ainda a pintura<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaFKYd2DZXVg7dIKYOvdvou0VfstVatmOBSUj3AK5dQmJklBb91uOkk61Sipb2D6IremGM4zDekUZm5fnxZja-b4tc31qArGlSrXQNrprYBgeBl0XxVAsJsASaBC8toqY8ce0qZ8EANg4/s1600/497px-WLA_metmuseum_Rembrandt_Self-portrait_1660.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaFKYd2DZXVg7dIKYOvdvou0VfstVatmOBSUj3AK5dQmJklBb91uOkk61Sipb2D6IremGM4zDekUZm5fnxZja-b4tc31qArGlSrXQNrprYBgeBl0XxVAsJsASaBC8toqY8ce0qZ8EANg4/s320/497px-WLA_metmuseum_Rembrandt_Self-portrait_1660.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoBlockText" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: -.4pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“(...) qual é o
objecto da pintura: a imagem do homem, por exemplo, ou o homem que a imagem
representa?” </span></div>
<div class="MsoBlockText" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: -.4pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Wittgenstein, Tratado Lógico-filosófico<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBlockText" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: -.4pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBlockText" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: -.4pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><i>Imagem: Auto-retrato, Rembrant</i></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->abel neveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753070390558205899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-694224138495863791.post-42695242225137343112011-11-26T18:23:00.001+00:002011-11-26T18:28:31.775+00:00encostados ao cenário<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrFSN2Eo4tPzMOUEftvq7JoUQEdco5HN4ZRSGN1xrpLPKNy0gTYW0o26o2oeASmU90D1DxRGbNfG_IxumSSjEfpzq4qOght3ASoHJ-6B3MhjdUPw93wGxFX8fUUSDCXttnmU8Bo-qHenU/s1600/a+fonte+da+juventude+lucas+cranach+1546.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrFSN2Eo4tPzMOUEftvq7JoUQEdco5HN4ZRSGN1xrpLPKNy0gTYW0o26o2oeASmU90D1DxRGbNfG_IxumSSjEfpzq4qOght3ASoHJ-6B3MhjdUPw93wGxFX8fUUSDCXttnmU8Bo-qHenU/s320/a+fonte+da+juventude+lucas+cranach+1546.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 9.35pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;">há
a mulher que está à janela e sonha</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 9.35pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">com
o homem e um homem <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 9.35pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">à
espreita num bar <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 9.35pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">mas
estes não contam<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>falo de outros <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 9.35pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">encostam-se
ao cenário e sofrem<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>compreendem<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 9.35pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">finalmente
que sofrem<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 9.35pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">para
os que esperam muito dela <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 9.35pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">muito
expectantes <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a vida é
uma fraude<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<i>Imagem: A fonte da juventude, de Lucas Cranach</i></div>
<!--EndFragment-->abel neveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753070390558205899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-694224138495863791.post-25015531543219207112011-11-07T02:50:00.000+00:002011-11-07T02:50:50.823+00:00este mundo<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUjTmApbhIRIBCZ_28zLiP4PbPltg7my2-7uiyH7TMmNyKYvXs18HL6AYivwIYkbu7wAJLg9BSvH_ycIm9G_F-aekdQD2txkKY07crh9740QdvFeZyRYhJxzRR3cqE2DSugd4goLpLrno/s1600/casa+e+carro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUjTmApbhIRIBCZ_28zLiP4PbPltg7my2-7uiyH7TMmNyKYvXs18HL6AYivwIYkbu7wAJLg9BSvH_ycIm9G_F-aekdQD2txkKY07crh9740QdvFeZyRYhJxzRR3cqE2DSugd4goLpLrno/s320/casa+e+carro.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Do mel vêm-me os
ramalhetes do lameiro com ares de mundo antigo. As vacas iam para a eira
cansadas com os seus carros e o chio rasgava o tempo e a paisagem, e agora a
lembrança. Eram dias doutro império. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ehhhh
boi ehhhhh!,</i> dizia-se com o pau a tocar o jugo, e o carro ia com a lentidão
das rodas cantadeiras, alinhavando os trabalhos do futuro. Ouviam-se os
insectos e ainda os ferreiros. O mel faziam-no as abelhas. Sim, eram as
abelhas. Agora, vão desaparecendo. Se as abelhas desaparecerem que será do
mundo?</div>
<!--EndFragment-->abel neveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753070390558205899noreply@blogger.com0