C de Começar o dia com um livro novo (XXXIX)

SOBRE OS PERIGOS DE TOCAR MÚSICA MEDIEVAL
- para Inês Dias e Ana Isabel Dias


Hipnotizantes, as pequenas mãos da harpista, pousadas,
balançando cada lado do espelho

que é ruído branco da cascata,
impedindo-nos de fazer a travessia para o Vazio.

Quando aquelas mãos voam, uma em direcção à outra,
o erotismo de ver e de tornar órfico,

- uma calma mais profunda no som - também a harpista,
arriscando-se a perder o toque que os seus dedos devem ter,

está em perigo de se hipnotizar a si mesma
com a sua própria e bem ensaiada divindade.

John Mateer, Descrentes,

trad. Andreia Sarabando, Coimbra, DSO, 2015

[ID, 'God is in the details', Londres | 2014]

A de Aniversário (XIV)

Sob a água
vê-se: Inês
posta em sossego,
pedacinhos de ossos.
Olha, aquele rapaz...
o seu corpo é apenas o estojo
duma jóia: ele tem os olhos de Inês.

José António Almeida, António Nogueira,

Lisboa, Edição do Autor, 1984

[ID, 'God is in the details', Madrid 015]

P de "Pelos caminhos da manhã" (VI)

'God is in the details.'

[ID, 07/09/015]

V de Vício - V b

"[...]

Mas eu -
disponho três rosas num vaso chinês:
uma rósea,
outra vermelha,
e outra amarela.
E trabalho a sua disposição.
E então sento-me numa janela virada a sul
e saboreio um vinho clarete com uma pitada de cicuta,
e penso nas noites de Inverno,
e nos ratos selvagens que várias vezes cruzarão
o local que será a minha sepultura."

Amy Lowell, Não eram rosas,

trad. Ricardo Marques,

Lisboa: Língua Morta, 2012

[ID, 'God is in the details', Londres 014]

C de Corpo Santo

['God is in the details', Beja 014]

As so with that, I thought I'd take a final walk

The tide of public opinion had started to abate

The neighbours, bless them, had turned out to be all talk

I could see their frightened faces 

peering at me through the gate

I was looking for an end to this, for some kind of closure

Time moved so rapidly, I had no hope of keeping track of it

I thought of my friends who had died of exposure

And I remembered other ones 

Who had died from the lack of it

And in my best shoes I started falling forward down the street

I stopped at a church and jostled through the crowd

And love followed just behind me, panting at my feet

As the steeple tore the stomach from a lonely little cloud

Inside I sat, seeking the presence of a God

I searched through the pictures in a leather-bound book

I found a woolly lamb dozing in an issue of blood

And a gilled Jesus shivering on a fisherman's hook

Babe

It seems so long

Since you've been gone away

And I 

Just got to say

That it grows darker with the day

Back on the street I saw a great big smiling sun

It was a Good day and an Evil day and all was bright and new

And it seemed to me that most destruction was being done

By those who could not choose between the two

Amateurs, dilettantes, hacks, cowboys, clones

The streets groan with little Caesars, Napoleons and cunts

With their building blocks and their tiny plastic phones

Counting on their fingers, with crumbs down their fronts

I passed by your garden, saw you with your flowers

The Camellias, Magnolias and Azaleas so sweet

And I stood there invisible in the panicking crowds

You looked so beautiful in the rising heat

I smell smoke, see little fires bursting on the lawns

People carry on regardless, listening to their hands

Great cracks appear in the pavement, the earth yawns

Bored and disgusted, to do us down

[...]

These streets are frozen now. I come and go

Full of a longing for something I do not know

My father sits slumped in the deepening snow

As I search, in and out, above, about, below

Babe

It seems so long

Since you went away

And I

Just got to say

That it grows darker with the day