Sons da Escrita 376

7 de Janeiro de 2012

Segundo programa do ciclo Bocage

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.


•••

Bocage

Camões, grande Camões

Camões, grande Camões, quão semelhante
Acho teu fado ao meu, quando os cotejo!
Igual causa nos fez, perdendo o Tejo,
Arrostar co’ o sacrílego gigante*;

Como tu, junto ao Ganges sussurrante,
Da penúria cruel no horror me vejo;
Como tu, gostos vãos, que em vão desejo,
Também carpindo estou, saudoso amante.

Ludíbrio, como tu, da Sorte dura
Meu fim demando ao céu, pela certeza
De que só terei paz na sepultura.

Modelo meu tu és… Mas, oh tristeza!...
Se te imito nos trames da ventura,
Não te imito nos dons da natureza.


Brothers in arms (Dire Straits)

These mist covered mountains
Are a home now for me
But my home is the lowlands
And always will be
Some day you'll return to
Your valleys and your farms
And you'll no longer burn
To be brothers in arms

Through these fields of destruction
Baptisms of fire
I've witnessed your suffering
As the battles raged higher
And though they hurt me so bad
In the fear and alarm
You did not desert me
My brothers in arms

There's so many different words
So many different songs
We have just one world
But we live in different ones

Now the sun's gone to hill
And the moon's riding high
Let me bid you farewell
Every man has to die
But it's written in the starlight
And every line on your palm
We're fools to make war
On our brothers in arms


Olha, Marília

Olha, Marília, as flautas dos pastores,
Que bem que soam, como estão cadentes!
Olha o Tejo a sorrir-se! Olha: não sentes
Os Zéfiros brincar por entre as flores?

Vê como ali, beijando-se, os Amores
Incitam nossos ósculos ardentes!
Ei-las de planta em planta as inocentes,
As vagas borboletas de mil cores!

Naquele arbusto o rouxinol suspira,
Ora nas folhas a abelhinha pára,
Ora nos ares, sussurrando gira:

Que alegre campo! Que manhã tão clara!
Mas ah! Tudo o que vês, se eu não te vira,
Mais tristeza que a noite me causara.


Sadness (Enigma)

Procedamus in pace
In nomine Christi, Amen
.
Cum angelis et pueris,
fideles inveniamur
.
Attollite portas, principes, vestras
et elevamini, portae aeternales
et introibit rex gloriae
Qius est iste Rex glorie?
.
Sade dis moi
Sade donne moi
.
Procedamus in pace
In nomine Christi, Amen
.
Sade dis moi
qu'est ce que tu vas chercher ?
le bien par le mal
la vertu par le vice
Sade dit moi pourquoi l' 'evangile du mal ?
quelle est ta religion ou` sont tes fide`les ?
Si tu es contre Dieu, tu es contre l'homme
.
Sade dit moi pourquoi le sang pour le plaisir ?
Le plaisir sans l'amour.
N'y a t'il plus de sentiment dans le culte de l'homme ?
.
Sade es-tu diabolique ou divin?
.
Sade dis moi
Hosanna
Sade donne moi
Hosanna
Sade dis moi
Hosanna
Sade donne moi
Hosanna
.
In nomine Christi, Amen 

(Translation:
Let us go forth in peace
In the name of Christ, So be it
.
We shall find the faithful in the
company of angels and children
.
Lift up ye heads o ye glorious gates,
and be ye lifted up ye everlasting doors,
and the king of glory shall come in.
Who is the king of glory?
.
Sade tell me
Sade give me
.
Shall we proceed in peace
In the name of Christ, Amen
.
Sade tell me
what is it that you seek?
The rightness of wrong
The virtue of vice
Sade tell me why the Gospel of evil ?
What is your religion? Where are your faithful?
If you are against God, you are against man
.
Sade tell me why blood for pleasure?
Pleasure without love?
Is there no longer any feeling in man's Faith?
.
Sade are you diabolical or divine?
.
Sade tell me
Hosanna
Sade give me
Hosanna
Sade tell me
Hosanna
Sade give me
Hosanna
.
In the name of Christ, Amen )


A frouxidão no amor

A frouxidão no amor é uma ofensa,
Ofensa que se eleva a um grau supremo;
Paixão requer paixão; fervor e extremo
Com extremo e fervor se recompensa.

Vê qual sou, vê qual és, vê que dif’rença!
Eu descoro, eu praguejo, eu ardo, eu gemo;
Eu choro, eu desespero, eu clamo, eu tremo;
Em sombras a razão se me condensa.

Tu só tens gratidão, só tens brandura,
E antes que um coração pouco amoroso,
Quisera ver-te uma alma ingrata e dura.

Talvez me enfadaria aspecto iroso,
Mas de teu peito a lânguida ternura
Tem-me cativo, e não me faz ditoso.


Don’t be careless love (Paul McCartney)

burn the midnight lamp
down until the dawn,
i'll keep watch until i'm sure your coming home.
shadows play and flicker on the bedroom wall
they turn into a bad dream overnight,
something could be terribly wrong.
don't be careless, love,
don't be careless, love,
don't be, don't be careless.

in my dream you're running nowhere,
ev'ry step you've taken turns to glue,
walking down a spiral staircase,
falling through, falling through,
don't be careless, love,
be careless, love.

the lamp burns down and out
i'm getting pretty tired of this.
i feel so bad, something might be going amiss.
i won't be there so look out for yourself,
you're getting in deep whatever you do,
don't let me go back to sleep.
don't be careless, love, uh,
don't be careless, love,
don't be, don't be careless.

saw your face in the morning paper,
saw your body rolled up in a rug.
chopped up into two little pieces by some thug.
don't be careless, love,
be careless, love.

but in the morning light
when i wake up again,
you're by my side and that's the way it's always been.
but in the dark,
your mind plays funny tricks on you,
your mind plays funny tricks on you,
your mind plays funny tricks on you.

don't be careless, love.


Oh retrato da morte

Oh retrato da morte, oh Noite amiga,
Por cuja escuridão suspiro há tanto!
Calada testemunha de meu pranto,
De meus desgostos secretária antiga!

Pois manda Amor que a ti somente os diga,
Dá-lhes pio agasalho no teu manto;
Ouve-os, como costumas, ouve, enquanto
Dorme a cruel, que a delirar me obriga.

E vós, oh cortesãos da escuridade,
Fantasmas vagos, mochos piadores,
Inimigos, como eu, da claridade!

Em bandos acudi aos meus clamores;
Quero a vossa medonha sociedade,
Quero fartar meu coração de horrores.


Death of a ladies man (Leonard Cohen)

Ah the man she wanted all her life was hanging by a thread
"I never even knew how much I wanted you," she said.
His muscles they were numbered and his style was obsolete.
"O baby, I have come too late." She knelt beside his feet.
"I'll never see a face like yours in years of men to come
I'll never see such arms again in wrestling or in love."
And all his virtues burning in the smoky Holocaust
She took unto herself most everything her lover lost

Now the master of this landscape he was standing at the view
with a sparrow of St. Francis that he was preaching to
She beckoned to the sentry of his high religious mood
She said, "I'll make a place between my legs,
I'll show you solitude."

He offered her an orgy in a many mirrored room
He promised her protection for the issue of her womb
She moved her body hard against a sharpened metal spoon
She stopped the bloody rituals of passage to the moon 

She took his much admired oriental frame of mind
and the heart-of-darkness alibi his money hides behind
She took his blonde madonna and his monastery wine --
"This mental space is occupied and everything is mine."

He tried to make a final stand beside the railway track
She said, "The art of longing's over and it's never coming back."
She took his tavern parliament, his cap, his cocky dance,
she mocked his female fashions and his working-class moustache.

The last time that I saw him he was trying hard to get
a woman's education but he's not a woman yet
And the last time that I saw her she was living with some boy
who gives her soul an empty room and gives her body joy.

So the great affair is over but whoever would have guessed
it would leave us all so vacant and so deeply unimpressed
It's like our visit to the moon or to that other star
I guess you go for nothing if you really want to go that far.

It's like our visit to the moon or to that other star
I guess you go for nothing if you really want to go that far.

It's like our visit to the moon or to that other star
I guess you go for nothing if you really want to go that far.


Quantas vezes, Amor, me tens ferido?
Quantas vezes, Razão, me tens curado?
Quão fácil de um estado a outro estado
O mortal sem querer é conduzido!


Música:

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

Fundos
Falling you

Ligações
Dire Straits, Enigma, Paul McCartney, Leonard Cohen

Textos:
Manuel Maria Barbosa du Bocage

Edição e voz:
José-António Moreira


•••|•••|•••


And in the end

the love you'll take

is equal to the love you make

© José-António Moreira 2012