de The Snow Queen, Hans Christian Andersen (excertos)

“In this kingdom where we now are,” said he, “there lives a princess, who is so wonderfully clever that she has read all the newspapers in the world, and forgotten them too, although she is so clever. A short time ago, as she was sitting on her throne, which people say is not such an agreeable seat as is often supposed, she began to sing a song which commences in these words:

‘Why should I not be married?’

‘Why not indeed?’ said she, and so she determined to marry if she could find a husband who knew what to say when he was spoken to, and not one who could only look grand, for that was so tiresome. Then she assembled all her court ladies together at the beat of the drum, and when they heard of her intentions they were very much pleased. ‘We are so glad to hear it,’ said they, ‘we were talking about it ourselves the other day.’

“Newspapers were published immediately, with a border of hearts, and the initials of the princess among them. They gave notice that every young man who was handsome was free to visit the castle and speak with the princess; and those who could reply loud enough to be heard when spoken to, were to make themselves quite at home at the palace; but the one who spoke best would be chosen as a husband for the princess.
“The people came in crowds. There was a great deal of crushing and running about, but no one succeeded either on the first or second day. They could all speak very well while they were outside in the streets, but when they entered the palace gates, and saw the guards in silver uniforms, and the footmen in their golden livery on the staircase, and the great halls lighted up, they became quite confused. And when they stood before the throne on which the princess sat, they could do nothing but repeat the last words she had said; and she had no particular wish to hear her own words over again. It was just as if they had all taken something to make them sleepy while they were in the palace, for they did not recover themselves nor speak till they got back again into the street. They were hungry and thirsty, for at the palace they did not get even a glass of water. Some of the wisest had taken a few slices of bread and butter with them, but they did not share it with their neighbors; they thought if they went in to the princess looking hungry, there would be a better chance for themselves.”

It was on the third day, there came marching cheerfully along to the palace a little personage, without horses or carriage, his eyes sparkling like yours; he had beautiful long hair, but his clothes were very poor. He had a little knapsack on his back. He passed through the palace gates, saw the guards in their silver uniform, and the servants in their liveries of gold on the stairs, but he was not in the least embarrassed. ‘It must be very tiresome to stand on the stairs,’ he said. ‘I prefer to go in.’ The rooms were blazing with light. Councillors and ambassadors walked about with bare feet, carrying golden vessels; it was enough to make any one feel serious. His boots creaked loudly as he walked, and yet he was not at all uneasy.
He went boldly up to the princess herself, who was sitting on a pearl as large as a spinning wheel, and all the ladies of the court were present with their maids, and all the cavaliers with their servants; and each of the maids had another maid to wait upon her, and the cavaliers’ servants had their own servants, as well as a page each. They all stood in circles round the princess, and the nearer they stood to the door, the prouder they looked.

He was quite free and agreeable and said he had not come to woo the princess, but to hear her wisdom; and he was as pleased with her as she was with him.”

  ¶ 12:49 da manhã (0) comments

  These words (New Model Army)

Through the years of decay we walk like tigers in cages
With each passing turn the smaller and smaller the circles
Every weapon and word legitimate now as protection
But these things should never be spoken
These things should never be spoken

I stand undefeated alone in the ring just pacing
The sweat and the blood dried on my hands all wasted
I'm shouting ""come back and fight for I am the king""
But the lights are all out and the people are gone
We always burned brightest when no one was watching
Now I kiss the lines on your beautiful face
But these things should never be spoken
These things should never be spoken

And sometimes your hunger for life seems like desperation
And when I read about the world these days all I can feel is hatred
The fortune teller is closing her doors
She looked into the crystal and saw nothing at all
They're waiting round here for something to happen
They won't really want it when it rolls out to greet them
But these things should never be spoken
These things should never be spoken  ¶ 8:57 da manhã (1) comments

  gulliver
para o ricardo, o meu pequeno girassol

um barco pequeno trazido pela mão de um gigante
um sonho quente num mundo mais quente
uma lista de transgressões fechada numa sala insubmissa
uma linha invisivel que borda o mundo num lenço de bolso
uma língua de peixes e um aquário sem fundo
um longo disturbio sonoro que irradia em stereo
um olhar de cima para cima de uma bolha de sabão
um desejo de sombras e fantasmas amigos que dançam na luz
uma só fachada de uma casa imensa onde moram todos os mapas
um solitário silêncio estranho e irreconciliável
um boneco colorido em forma de amor líquido
uma pequena gratidão elétrica em forma de beijo
uma pequena forma transformada em ar e em água
uma nuvem que chove numa maré que nunca sobe
  ¶ 11:34 da tarde (1) comments

 

sem foto
e sem palavras e sem planos e sem pressa e sem silencio e sem sono e sem mais sentidos para sentir. encheu-me os olhos, os dedos, o nariz, a boca, os ouvidos. encheu-me o espaço de quietude e vontade e de coisas perigosas. encheu-me de mais vontade de ficar e mais vontade de ir. encheu-me de passado e de futuro e de histórias de nomes e de coisas tristes, de um sorriso luminoso e uma voz cavernosa demais para um corpo magro e macio que dormia como se abraçasse a morte. como se atravessasse o tempo com um punhal. encheu-me de uma eloquencia simples e de algo longe e de algo perto. e enquanto dormia eu revia-lhe o corpo a cada centimetro de imobilidade. e lembrei-me de estar comovida, como uma longa despedida desde o longo olá.
lembro-me dele encostado ao canto branco da minha cama abraçado à minha única almofada, os piercings e as tatuagens e o brilho nos olhos de todas as perdas e todas as conquistas, de todas as vaidades e de todas as inseguranças. lembro-me dele por este cheiro que persiste no quarto por dentro do fumo de muitos cigarros. e sinto a pequenez do meu universo comparado com esta presença. e sinto a pequenez da minha noite comparada com esta ausência.  ¶ 1:59 da manhã (0) comments