Sons da Escrita 039

10 de Dezembro de 2005

Terceiro programa do ciclo António Sem

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 Sem

Bailado corporal (António Sem)

O teu corpo é um espaço
imenso de frutos maduros
que sorri de afagos precisos
quando o beijo se sufoca vagarosamente
nesses seios que me aquecem
e as mãos bailam no teu ventre
dançando contigo uma volúpia
de gestos sentidos

Amor precipício imaginado
nesse abrigo tão cheio de prazer
diamante que corta minha boca oferecida
nesse cheiro de amor que tudo perfuma
te penetro tão completamente
como se sempre aí tivesse permanecido


They dance alone (Sting)

Why are these women here dancing on their own?
Why is there this sadness in their eyes?
Why are the soldiers here
Their faces fixed like stone?
I can't see what it is that they despise
They're dancing with the missing
They're dancing with the dead
They dance with the invisible ones
Their anguish is unsaid
They're dancing with their fathers
They're dancing with their sons
They're dancing with their husbands
They dance alone, they dance alone

It's the only form of protest they're allowed
I've seen their silent faces they scream so loud
If they were to speak these words they'd go missing too
Another woman on the torture table what else can they do
They're dancing with the missing
They're dancing with the dead
They dance with the invisible ones
Their anguish is unsaid
They're dancing with their fathers
They're dancing with their sons
They're dancing with their husbands
They dance alone, they dance alone

One day we'll dance on their graves
One day we'll sing our freedom
One day we'll laugh in our joy
And we'll dance
One day we'll dance on their graves
One day we'll sing our freedom
One day we'll laugh in our joy
And we'll dance

Ellas danzan con los desaparecidos
danzan con los muertos
danzan con amores invisibles
con silenciosa angustia
Danzan con sus padres
con sus hijos
con sus esposos
Ellas danzan solas
Danzan solas

Hey Mr. Pinochet
You've sown a bitter crop
It's foreign money that supports you
One day the money's going to stop
No wages for your torturers
No budget for your guns
Can you think of your own mother
Dancin' with her invisible son
They're dancing with the missing
They're dancing with the dead
They dance with the invisible ones
Their anguish is unsaid
They're dancing with their fathers
They're dancing with their sons
They're dancing with their husbands
They dance alone, they dance alone


António Sem

O desejo (António Sem)

É neste ponto
das tuas coxas
que o meu pescoço
implora a forca     


Mas dás-lhe o trono
da luz  da sombra
num sorvedouro
de rosas roxas

Agreste gosto
de húmida polpa
o que dissolvo
dentro da boca

Eis num renovo
mágica força
rei me coroo
em tuas coxas


Desire as (Prefab Sprout)

It's in the silences
The words you never say
I see it in your eyes
Always starts the same way
It seems like everyone we know
Is breakin' up
Hmm, does anybody ever stay in love...anymore?

I promise you
From the bottom of my heart
I will love you til' death do us part
I promise you
As a lover and a friend
I will (ooh) love you like I never love again
With everything I am

ooh
I see you look at me
When you think I'm not aware
You're searching for clues
Of just how deep my feelings are
How do you prove the sky is blue, the oceans wide
All I know is what I feel
When I look into your eyes

I promise you (I promise you)
From the bottom of my heart
(from the bottom of my heart babay)
I will love you til' death do us part
(I do my darlin', I promise yeah)
I promise you (I promise you)
As a lover and a friend
I will (ooh) love you like I never loved again
With everything that I am
Ooh yeah

Oh there are no guarantees
That's what you always say to me (mmm)
But late at night I feel the tremble in your touch, baby
(Oh yeah)
Oh And what I'm trying to say to you
I never said to anyone I promise (oh no)

I promise (Promise) you (you you you)
From the bottom of my heart
(from the bottom of my heart)
I will love you til' death do us part
(Oh)
(do you darlin' I promise you yeah)
I promise you
As a lover and a friend
(as a lover and a friend)
I will lover you like I never love again
with everything I am

I promise you
(with everything I am)
From the bottom of my heart
(from the bottom of my heart)
I will love you til' death (love you) do us part
(I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you)
(this is promise you, babe)
I promise you
As a lover and a friend
I will love you like I never love again
With everything I am

You're everything I am
Oh yeah
(doo...)
With everything I am


António Sem

Poema por ti (António Sem)

No espaço do meu corpo
há um cheiro de maça verde
e eu habituei-me
a esperar-te inteira
à beira do tempo
enquanto as esquinas
se dobram de espanto  

Tu és a certeza nesta viagem
pelo amanhecer tranquilo
em que a madrugada se despe
das palavras quietas que cheiram a ti 

Eu sou a incerteza
da partida que sabe a desejo


Poem for the people (Chicago)

If the people only knew
If they could visualize
Just open their eyes
Even stop to think about
If they could open their minds
They could get beyond
The world's a funny place you know
Most of what goes on
Is rarely funny
Rarely funny

Could the people understand
In only whisper and screams
And colorless dreams
Could they finally comprehend
If they could suddenly see
And suddenly feel

The world's a funny place you know
Most of what goes on
Is rarely funny
Rarely funny


Mensageira
vem
quebra o silêncio do espaço
que me envolve em ondas de tédio
onde meus sonhos rasgados se contorcem

vem
habitada flor perfumada
cor

seiva 

pétala 

fruto
pousar suavemente
neste espaço desnudado

vem
fonte de amor
dar riso ao sol
criar rios de luar
onde me aqueço e banho
vem assim simples
sem véus de cristal
regar meu corpo vagabundo


Música:

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

Fundos
Vangelis

Ligações
Sting, Prefab Sprout, Chicago

Textos:
António Sem

Edição e voz:
José-António Moreira

© José-António Moreira 2012