Sons da Escrita 129

24 de Agosto de 2007

Primeiro programa do ciclo Antero de Quental

Compasso a compasso, palavra a palavra, alinham-se, rigorosos, os sons da escrita.

Quando um homem interroga a água pura dos sentidos e ousa caminhar, serenamente, os esquecidos atalhos de todas as memórias, acontecem viagens — viagens entre o quase tudo e o quase nada.

Então, da raíz dos nervos da memória surge a planta de uma vida escutada no silêncio dos sons da escrita.

Sons da Escrita – à volta de uma ideia de José-António Moreira.


•••

António Gedeão

Amargo estilo novo (António Gedeão)

Tudo é fácil quando se está brincando com a flor entre os dedos
quando se olham nos olhos as crianças,
quando se visita no leito o amor convalescente.
É bom ser flor, criança, ou ser doente.
Tudo são terras donde brotam esperanças,
pétalas, tranças,
a porta do hospital aberta à nossa frente.

Desde que nasci que todos me enganam,
em casa, na rua, na escola, no emprego, na igreja, no quartel
com fogos de artifício e fatias de pão besuntadas com mel
E o mais grave é que não me enganam com erros nem com falsidades
mas com profundas, autênticas verdades.

E é tudo tão simples quando se rola a flor entre os dedos
Os estadistas não sabem,
mas nós, os das flores, para quem os caminhos do sonho não guardam segredos,
sabemos isso e todas as coisas mais que nos livros não cabem.


New kid in town (Eagles) 

There's talk on the street; it sounds so familiar
Great expectations, everybody's watching you
People you meet, they all seem to know you
Even your old friends treat you like you're something new 

Johnny come lately, the new kid in town
Everybody loves you, so don't let them down 

You look in her eyes; the music begins to play
Hopeless romantics, here we go again
But after awhile, you're lookin' the other way
It's those restless hearts that never mend 

Johnny come lately, the new kid in town
Will she still love you when you're not around?
There's so many things you should have told her,
but night after night you're willing to hold her,
Just hold her, tears on your shoulder 

There's talk on the street, it's there to
Remind you, that it doesn't really matter
which side you're on.
You're walking away and they're talking behind you
They will never forget you 'til somebody new comes along
Where you been lately? There's a new kid in town
Everybody loves him, don't they?
Now he's holding her, and you're still around
Oh, my, my
There's a new kid in town
Ooh, hoo
just another new kid in town
Ooh, hoo
Everybody's talking 'bout the new kid in town,
Everybody's walking' like the new kid in town
There's a new kid in town
There's a new kid in town
I don't want to hear it
There's a new kid in town
I don't want to hear it
There's a new kid in town
There's a new kid in town


António Gedeão

Dez reis de esperança (António Gedeão)

Se não fosse esta certeza
que nem sei de onde me vem,
não comia, nem bebia,
nem falava com ninguém.
Acocorava-me a um canto,
no mais escuro que houvesse,
punha os joelhos à boca
e viesse o que viesse.
Não fossem os olhos grandes
do ingénuo adolescente,
a chuva das penas brancas
a cair impertinente,
aquele incógnito rosto,
pintado em tons de aguarela,
que sonha no frio encosto
da vidraça da janela,
não fosse a imensa piedade
dos homens que não cresceram,
que ouviram, viram, ouviram,
viram, e não perceberam,
essas máscaras selectas,
antologia do espanto,
flores sem caule, flutuando
no pranto do desencanto,
se não fosse a fome e a sede
dessa humanidade exangue,
roía as unhas e os dedos
até os fazer em sangue.


High hopes (David Gilmour)

Beyond the horizon of the place we lived when we were young
In a world of magnets and miracles
Our thoughts strayed constantly and without boundary
The ringing of the division bell had begun
Along the long road and on down the causeway
Do they still meet there by the cut
There was a ragged man that followed in our footsteps
Running before time took our dreams away
Leaving the myriad small creatures trying to tie us to the ground
To a life consumed by slow decay

The grass was greener
The light was brighter
With friends surrounded
The nights of wonder

Looking beyond the embers of bridges glowing behind us
To a glimpse of how green it was on the other side
Steps taken forwards but sleepwalking back again
Dragged by the force of some inner tide
At a higher altitude with flag unfurled
We reached the dizzy heights of that dreamed of world

Encumbered forever by desire and ambition
There's a hunger still unsatisfied
Our weary eyes still stray to the horizon
go down this road we've been one hundred times

The grass was greener
The light was brighter
The taste was sweeter
The nights of wonder
With friends surrounded
The dawn mist glowing
The water flowing
The endless river

Forever and ever


António Gedeão

Amostra sem valor (António Gedeão)

Eu sei que o meu desespero não interessa a ninguém.
Cada um tem o seu, pessoal e intransmissível:
com ele se entretém
e se julga intangível. 

Eu sei que a Humanidade é mais gente do que eu,
sei que o Mundo é maior do que o bairro onde habito,
que o respirar de um só, mesmo que seja o meu,
não pesa num total que tende para infinito. 

Eu sei que as dimensões impiedosas da Vida
ignoram todo o homem, dissolvem-no, e, contudo,
nesta insignificância, gratuita e desvalida,
Universo sou eu, com nebulosas e tudo.


Private universe (Crowded House)

No time, no place to talk about the weather
the promise of love is hard to ignore
who said the chance wasn't getting any better
the labor of love is ours to endure
the highest branch on the apple tree
it was my favorite place to be
I could hear them breaking free
but they could not see me

I will run for shelter
endless summer lift the curse
it feels like nothing matters
in our private universe

I have all I want, is that simple enough?
a whole lot more I'm thinking of
every night about six o'clock
birds come back to the pond to talk
they talk to me -- birds to talk to me
if I go down on my knees

it feels like nothing matters
in our private universe

And it's a pleasure that I have known
and it's a treasure that I have gained
and it's a pleasure that I have known

It's a tight squeeze, but I won't let go
time is on the table and the dinner's cold


A catedral de Burgos tem trinta metros de altura
e as pupilas dos meus olhos dois milímetros de abertura.  
Olha a catedral de Burgos com trinta metros de altura!


Música:

Genérico
Davy Spillane (abertura e fecho), Beatles (Fecho)

Fundos
Eric Clapton, Tangerine Dream, Göran Söllscher

Ligações
Eagles, David Gilmour, Crowded House

Textos:
António Gedeão

Edição e voz:
José-António Moreira

© José-António Moreira 2012