Ai que prazer... não ter... o fazer.
O sol doira... tão naturalmente...
Tem tempo, não tem pressa.
Esperar por D. Sebastião,
Quer venha ou não!
esc
Anjos #1
santa maria, santa teresa, santa anna, santa susannah
santa cecelia, santa copelia, santa domenica, mary angelica
frater achad, frater pietro, julianus, petronilla
santa, santos, miroslaw, vladimir and all the rest
a man is placed upon the steps, a baby cries,
and high above the church bells start to ring
and as the heaviness the body oh the heaviness settles in
somewhere you can hear a mother sing
then it's one foot then the other as you step out onto the road
how much weight? how much weight?
then it's how long? and how far? and how many times before it's too late?
calling all angels
calling all angels
walk me through this one
don't leave me alone
calling all angels
calling all angels
we're cryin' and we're hurtin'
and we're not sure why...
and every day you gaze upon the sunset with such love and intensity
it's almost...
it's almost as if if you could only crack the code
then you'd finally understand what all this means
but if you could...
do you think you would trade in all the pain and
suffering? ah, but then you'd miss the beauty of the light upon this earth
and the sweetness of the leaving
calling all angels
calling all angels
walk me through this one
don't leave me alone
callin' all angels callin' all angels
we're tryin'
we're hopin'
we're hurtin'
we're lovin'
we're cryin'
we're callin'
'cuz we're not sure how this goes
Jane Siberry
The ABC
| 'Twas midnight in the schoolroom And every desk was shut When suddenly from the alphabet Was heard a loud "Tut-Tut!" Said A to B, "I don't like C; His manners are a lack. For all I ever see of C Is a semi-circular back!" "I disagree," said D to B, "I've never found C so. From where I stand he seems to be An uncompleted O." C was vexed, "I'm much perplexed, You criticise my shape. I'm made like that, to help spell Cat And Cow and Cool and Cape." "He's right" said E; said F, "Whoopee!" Said G, "'Ip, 'Ip, 'ooray!" "You're dropping me," roared H to G. "Don't do it please I pray." "Out of my way," LL said to K. "I'll make poor I look ILL." To stop this stunt J stood in front, And presto! ILL was JILL. "U know," said V, "that W Is twice the age of me. For as a Roman V is five I'm half as young as he." X and Y yawned sleepily, "Look at the time!" they said. "Let's all get off to beddy byes." They did, then "Z-z-z." ainda Spike Milligan |
Bump
Things that go 'bump' in the night
Should not really give one a fright.
It's the hole in each ear
That lets in the fear,
That, and the absence of light!
Spike Milligan
Ser ou não ser normal
"... Há muitos anos, fui a uma escola, para uma conversa com professores. Instalaram os palestrantes numa sala de espera. À entrada, tinha um dístico com a seguinte inscrição: "sala de aula normal". Eu perguntei se não haveria uma sala de aula "anormal", onde eu me pudesse recolher e preparar a palestra.
Ninguém achou graça. A minha pergunta foi ignorada e eu fui convidado a entrar para a "sala de aula normal". Esbocei um sorriso amarelado, para ajudar a descontrair. Mas ainda ouvi, de passagem: É louco!
Há duas semanas, a pedido de um grupo de professores, fui visitar uma escola da minha região. À entrada da sala onde iríamos reunir, lá estava o dístico: "sala de aula normal". Na minha qualidade de amigo crítico, não arrisquei dizer piadas "fora do normal"...
Perante o descalabro que vivem as escolas "normais", tudo o que se faça de "anormal" só pode significar mudar para melhor. Sinto-me como peixe na água, quando partilho as horas com professores "fora do normal", que não esquecem a canção que o que o rei do baião cantava: "lá no meu sertão, pró caboclo ler, tem que aprender um outro abc" . São professores que buscam um abc que contrarie a insistência na "normal" transmissão de conteúdos desligada da compreensão dos saberes. Que arriscam receber o epíteto de "loucos". Que fazem lembrar o "louco" Freinet, na sua escola do interior da França de há quase um século, perseguido por comunistas e fascistas "normais".
No vaivém entre as margens do largo oceano - que cruzo como quem vai cerzindo pedaços do velho e do novo mundo – redescubro a sabedoria dos "não-normais". Num mundo normalizador da loucura, admiro a coragem de quem se expõe e faz aquilo em que acredita. Sinto-me irmanado com os educadores que, nas duas margens do Atlântico, afirmam ser "possível traduzir em actos os preceitos" as práticas e teorias que andam dispersas, e que insistem na benigna loucura de transformar escolas reprodutoras de exclusão em escolas geradoras de sucesso. Por isso, aí vou eu, passar um dia numa escola em mudança. Mas, desta vez, vou ter de fazer uma palestra. O dia aproxima-se, e eu sem encontrar solução para o problema de ter de deitar discurso. Há dias em que apetece ser… "normal".
Prof. José Pacheco (da famosa Escola da Ponte)
STOP BULLYING
"Metade dos alunos portugueses estão envolvidos de alguma forma na violência escolar chamada Bullying. Isto é, a intimidação, humilhação, ou mesmo agressões, que alguns alunos com mais poder exercem sobre outros, de uma forma repetida. Uma análise a vários estudos realizados, em Portugal, permitiu concluir que esta realidade atinge 50 por cento dos alunos, entre agressores, vítimas e ambos."
Bully Online
Silence
I was in a middle of a war,
Shouting,
Banging,
Screaming,
Yelling.
I had nowhere to rest
I had to heal wounded soldiers of both sides.
Then suddenly everything broke into silence
Not a bird chirping,
Not a bang,
Not a scream,
Not a yell,
Not a shout,
Not even the wind blowing.
Everything was dead.
F.Maia 1969
Sofisticação
I hear thy voice, O turtle dove-
The dawn is all aglow-
Weary am I with love, with love,
Oh, whither shall I go?
Not so, O beauteous bird above,
Is joy to be denied....
For I have found my dear, my love;
And I am by his side.
We wander forth, and hand in hand
Through flowery ways we go-
I am the fairest in the land,
For he has called me so.
Antigo Egipto
Dignidade, Sofisticação e Raça
Os Olhos de Curtis:
Old Eagle (Oto) e Two Moons (Cheyenne)
Two Moons was one of the Cheyenne chiefs at the battle of Little Bighorn in 1876, when Custer's command was annihilated by a force of Sioux and Cheyenne.
Fotografias de Edward S. Curtis
Alma
"Music, absolute music, only expresses itself through sound, but it obviously has content, it's not just sound. The problem is that this content cannot really be articulated in an objective, racional, scientific way with words. Were it possible to articulate it in a racional, scientific way, the music would be unnecessary. But the fact that it is not possible to articulate it in a racional, scientific way, it doesn't mean that it doesn't have a content; and therefore the question is: what is this content and how do we realize it?"
Daniel Barenboim
e também: Daniel Barenboim, Reith lectures 2006 para ler/ouvir: "The Power of Music"
Song of Childhood
When the child was a child
It walked with its arms swinging,
wanted the brook to be a river,
the river to be a torrent,
and this puddle to be the sea.
When the child was a child,
it didn’t know that it was a child,
everything was soulful,
and all souls were one.
When the child was a child,
it had no opinion about anything,
had no habits,
it often sat cross-legged,
took off running,
had a cowlick in its hair,
and made no faces when photographed.
When the child was a child,
It was the time for these questions:
Why am I me, and why not you?
Why am I here, and why not there?
When did time begin, and where does space end?
Is life under the sun not just a dream?
Is what I see and hear and smell
not just an illusion of a world before the world?
Given the facts of evil and people.
does evil really exist?
How can it be that I, who I am,
didn’t exist before I came to be,
and that, someday, I, who I am,
will no longer be who I am?
When the child was a child,
It choked on spinach, on peas, on rice pudding,
and on steamed cauliflower,
and eats all of those now, and not just because it has to.
When the child was a child,
it awoke once in a strange bed,
and now does so again and again.
Many people, then, seemed beautiful,
and now only a few do, by sheer luck.
It had visualized a clear image of Paradise,
and now can at most guess,
could not conceive of nothingness,
and shudders today at the thought.
When the child was a child,
It played with enthusiasm,
and, now, has just as much excitement as then,
but only when it concerns its work.
When the child was a child,
It was enough for it to eat an apple, … bread,
And so it is even now.
When the child was a child,
Berries filled its hand as only berries do,
and do even now,
Fresh walnuts made its tongue raw,
and do even now,
it had, on every mountaintop,
the longing for a higher mountain yet,
and in every city,
the longing for an even greater city,
and that is still so,
It reached for cherries in topmost branches of trees
with an elation it still has today,
has a shyness in front of strangers,
and has that even now.
It awaited the first snow,
And waits that way even now.
When the child was a child,
It threw a stick like a lance against a tree,
And it quivers there still today. Peter Handke
Oh! je voudrais tant que tu te souviennes
Des jours heureux oů nous étions amis
En ce temps-la la vie était plus belle,
Et le soleil plus brűlant qu'aujourd'hui
Les feuilles mortes se ramassent a la pelle
Tu vois, je n'ai pas oublié...
Les feuilles mortes se ramassent a la pelle,
Les souvenirs et les regrets aussi
Et le vent du nord les emporte
Dans la nuit froide de l'oubli.
Tu vois, je n'ai pas oublié
La chanson que tu me chantais.
J. Prévert
To The Critics
I'LL write, because I'll give
You critics means to live ;
For should I not supply
The cause, th' effect would die.
Robert Herrick
