25 de Abril, sempre.

Zeca, sempre.

Nas primeiras horas deste 25 de Abril...

Grândola Vila Morena

Grândola, vila morena
Terra da fraternidade
O povo é quem mais ordena
Dentro de ti, ó cidade

Dentro de ti, ó cidade
O povo é quem mais ordena
Terra da fraternidade
Grândola, vila morena

Em cada esquina um amigo
Em cada rosto igualdade
Grândola, vila morena
Terra da fraternidade

Terra da fraternidade
Grândola, vila morena
Em cada rosto igualdade
O povo é quem mais ordena

À sombra duma azinheira
Que já não sabia a idade
Jurei ter por companheira
Grândola a tua vontade

Zeca Afonso 1971

To the Gentleman-Officer over the sea...Ele sabe, só ele sabe. Mais umas horas...beijos lindos.

O Meu amor O meu amor tem um jeito manso que é só seu E que me deixa louca quando me beija a boca A minha pele toda fica arrepiada E me beija com calma e fundo Até minh'alma se sentir beijada O meu amor tem um jeito manso que é só seu Que rouba os meus sentidos, viola os meus ouvidos Com tantos segredos lindos e indecentes Depois brinca comigo, ri do meu umbigo E me crava os dentes Eu sou sua menina, viu? E ele é o meu rapaz Meu corpo é testemunha do bem que ele me faz O meu amor tem um jeito manso que é só seu Que me deixa maluca, quando me roça a nuca E quase me machuca com a barba mal feita E de pousar as coxas entre as minhas coxas Quando ele se deita O meu amor tem um jeito manso que é só seu De me fazer rodeios, de me beijar os seios Me beijar o ventre e me deixar em brasa Desfruta do meu corpo como se o meu corpo Fosse a sua casa Eu sou sua menina, viu? E ele é o meu rapaz Meu corpo é testemunha do bem que ele me faz. N.B. Wikipedia translation.

My Love My love has a meek way it’s only his which drives me crazy When kisses me the mouth My very skin gets ruffled And kisses me gently and deep Until my soul feels kissed My love has a meek way it’s only his which it steals my sensors, violate my ears With so many pretty and indecent secrets After, he plays with me, laughs at my navel And thrust me the teeth I am his girl, see? And he is my man My body is witness of the welfare he makes to me My love has a meek way it’s only his which drives me nuts When scratches me the nape And almost hurts me with the badly shaved beard And how he puts the thighs between my thighs When he lies down My love has a meek way it’s only his Of making me roundups, of kissing me the breasts Of kissing me the womb, of letting me as a live coal Delighting himself with my body As if my body was his house I am his girl, see? And he is my man My body is witness of the welfare he makes to me.

"She" by Charles Aznavour

She
May be the face I can't forget
A trace of pleasure or regret
May be my treasure or the price I have to pay
She may be the song that summer sings
May be the chill that autumn brings
May be a hundred tearful things
Within the measure of the day.

She
May be the beauty or the beast
May be the famine or the feast
May turn each day into heaven or a hell
She may be the mirror of my dreams
A smile reflected in a stream
She may not be what she may seem
Inside a shell

She who always seems so happy in a crowd
Whose eyes can be so private and so proud
No one's allowed to see them when they cry
She may be the love that can and hope to last
May come to me from shadows of the past
That I remember till the day I die

She
May be the reason I survive
The why and where for I'm alive
The one I'll care for through the rough and rainy years
Me I'll take her laughter and her tears
And make them all my souvenirs
For where she goes I got to be
The meaning of my life is

She, she, she

Him...Paris /Mesopotamia via Boston

A few words to tell him how much I want the time to fly...

How sad to know that he is going to the hell of that war in that terrible place, so far, in Mesopotamia...

Mais le temps passera mon cher et adorable ami et Paris sera de nouveau à nous...


Tu es toujours dans non coeur et l'empreinte de toi est indélébile.
Je t'adore.

Carol Ann Duffy...again.

RIVER

Down by the river, under the trees, love waits for me
to walk from the journeying years of my time and arrive.
I part the leaves and they toss me a blessing of rain.

The river stirs and turns, consoling and fondling itself
with watery hands, its clear limbs parting and closing,
Grey as a secret, the heron bows its head on the bank.

I drop my past on the grass and open my arms, which ache
as though they held up this heavy sky, or had pressed
against window glass all night as my eyes sieved the stars;

open my mouth, wordless at last meeting love at last, dry
from travelling so long, shy of a prayer. You step from the shade,
and I feel love come to my arms and cover my mouth, feel

my soul sweep and ease itself into my skin, like a bird
threading a river. Then I can look love full in the face, see
who you are I have come this far to find, the love of my life.

Carol Ann Duffy - Rapture

Dogs???

Why should it be always about cats?

Spot the dog!

April Abril Avril

Sempre volta Abril, o tempo de relembrar os que já não estão connosco, mas que nunca morrerão na memória de quem traz na mente os seus actos e a suas palavras de Liberdade!

Que as trevas nunca mais nos inundem!

Abril, sempre!

«Trova do Vento que Passa» Pergunto ao vento que passa notícias do meu país e o vento cala a desgraça o vento nada me diz. Pergunto aos rios que levam tanto sonho à flor das águas e os rios não me sossegam levam sonhos deixam mágoas. Levam sonhos deixam mágoas ai rios do meu país minha pátria à flor das águas para onde vais? Ninguém diz. Se o verde trevo desfolhas pede notícias e diz ao trevo de quatro folhas que morro por meu país. Pergunto à gente que passa por que vai de olhos no chão. Silêncio -- é tudo o que tem quem vive na servidão. Vi florir os verdes ramos direitos e ao céu voltados. E a quem gosta de ter amos vi sempre os ombros curvados. E o vento não me diz nada ninguém diz nada de novo. Vi minha pátria pregada nos braços em cruz do povo. Vi minha pátria na margem dos rios que vão pró mar como quem ama a viagem mas tem sempre de ficar. Vi navios a partir (minha pátria à flor das águas) vi minha pátria florir (verdes folhas verdes mágoas). Há quem te queira ignorada e fale pátria em teu nome. Eu vi-te crucificada nos braços negros da fome. E o vento não me diz nada só o silêncio persiste. Vi minha pátria parada à beira de um rio triste. Ninguém diz nada de novo se notícias vou pedindo nas mãos vazias do povo vi minha pátria florindo. E a noite cresce por dentro dos homens do meu país. Peço notícias ao vento e o vento nada me diz. Mas há sempre uma candeia dentro da própria desgraça há sempre alguém que semeia canções no vento que passa. Mesmo na noite mais triste em tempo de servidão há sempre alguém que resiste há sempre alguém que diz não. Manuel Alegre

You

Uninvited, the thought of you stayed too late in my head.
So I went to bed, dreaming you hard, hard, woke with your name,
like tears, soft, salt, on my lips, the sound of its bright syllables
like a charm, like a spell.

Falling in love
is glamorous hell: the crouched, parched heart
like a tiger, ready to kill; a flame's fierce licks under the skin.
Into my life, larger than life, you strolled in.

I hid in my ordinary days, in the long grass of routine, in my camouflage rooms.You sprawled in my gaze,
staring back from anyone's face, from the shape of a cloud,
from the pining, earth-struck moon which gapes at me.

As I open the bedroom door. The curtains stir. There you are on the bed, like gift, like a touchable dream.

by Carol Ann Duffy - Rapture

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look will easily unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

by e.e. cummings

Liberté - Paul Éluard

Sur mes cahiers d'écolier
Sur mon pupitre et les arbres
Sur le sable sur la neige
J'écris ton nom

Sur toutes les pages lues
Sur toutes les pages blanches
Pierre sang papier ou cendre
J'écris ton nom

Sur les images dorées
Sur les armes des guerriers
Sur la couronne des rois
J'écris ton nom

Sur la jungle et le désert
Sur les nids sur les genêts
Sur l'écho de mon enfance
J'écris ton nom

Sur les merveilles des nuits
Sur le pain blanc des journées
Sur les saisons fiancées
J'écris ton nom

Sur tous mes chiffons d'azur
Sur l'étang soleil moisi
Sur le lac lune vivante
J'écris ton nom

Sur les champs sur l'horizon
Sur les ailes des oiseaux
Et sur le moulin des ombres
J'écris ton nom

Sur chaque bouffée d'aurore
Sur la mer sur les bateaux
Sur la montagne démente
J'écris ton nom

Sur la mousse des nuages
Sur les sueurs de l'orage
Sur la pluie épaisse et fade
J'écris ton nom

Sur la vitre des surprises
Sur les lèvres attentives
Bien au-dessus du silence
J'écris ton nom

Sur mes refuges détruits
Sur mes phares écroulés
Sur les murs de mon ennui
J'écris ton nom

Sur l'absence sans désirs
Sur la solitude nue
Sur les marches de la mort
J'écris ton nom

Sur la santé revenue
Sur le risque disparu
Sur l'espoir sans souvenir
J'écris ton nom

Et par le pouvoir d'un mot
Je recommence ma vie
Je suis né pour te connaître
Pour te nommer
Liberté

- 1942 -

" Poésie et vérité 42 "

Florbela Espanca I

Se tu viesses ver-me...

Se tu viesses ver-me hoje à tardinha,
A essa hora dos mágicos cansaços,
Quando a noite de manso se avizinha,
E me prendesses toda nos teus braços...

Quando me lembra: esse sabor que tinha
A tua boca... o eco dos teus passos...
O teu riso de fonte... os teus abraços...
Os teus beijos... a tua mão na minha...

Se tu viesses quando, linda e louca,
Traça as linhas dulcíssimas dum beijo
E é de seda vermelha e canta e ri

E é como um cravo ao sol a minha boca...
Quando os olhos se me cerram de desejo...
E os meus braços se estendem para ti...

PET RULES...

PET RULES

To be posted VERY LOW on the refrigerator door - nose height.

Dear Dogs and Cats,
The dishes with the paw print are yours and contain your food. The other dishes are mine and contain my food. Please note, placing a paw print in the middle of my plate and food does not stake a claim for it becoming your food and dish, nor do I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.

The stairway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a racetrack. Beating me to the bottom is not the object. Tripping me doesn't help because I fall faster than you can run.

I cannot buy anything bigger than a king sized bed. I am very sorry about this. Do not think I will continue sleeping on the couch to ensure your comfort.! Dogs and cats can actually curl up in a ball when they sleep. It is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other stretched out to the fullest extent possible. I also know that sticking tails straight out and having tongues hanging out the other end to maximize space is nothing but sarcasm.

For the last time, there is not a secret exit from the bathroom. If by some miracle I beat you there and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary to claw, whine, meow, try to turn the knob or get your paw under the edge and try to pull the door open. I must exit through the same door I entered. Also, I have been using the bathroom for years --canine or feline attendance is not required.

The proper order is kiss me, then go smell the other dog or cat's butt. I cannot stress this enough!

To pacify you, my dear pets, I have posted the following message on our front door:

To All Non-Pet Owners Who Visit & Like to Complain About Our Pets:

1. They live here. You don't.

2. If you don't want their hair on your clothes, stay off the furniture. (That's why they call it 'fur-niture .)

3. I like my pets a lot better than I like most people.

4. To you, it's an animal. To me, he/she is an adopted son/daughter who is short, hairy, walks on all fours and doesn't speak clearly.

Remember: Dogs and cats are better than kids because they:

1. Eat less
2. Don't ask for money all the time
3 Are easier to train
4. Normally come when called
5. Never ask to drive the car
6. Don't hang out with drug-using friends
7. Don't smoke or drink
8. Don't have to buy the latest fashions
9. Don't want to wear your clothes
10. Don't need a gazillion dollars for college, and...
11. If they get pregnant, you can sell their children.