Sons da Escrita 292

20 de Agosto de 2010

Segundo programa do ciclo Florbela Espanca

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.


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Florbela Espanca

Errante

Meu coração da cor dos rubros vinhos
Rasga a mortalha do meu peito brando
E vai fugindo, e tonto vai andando
A perder-se nas brumas dos caminhos. 

Meu coração o místico profeta,
O paladino audaz da desventura,
Que sonha ser um santo e um poeta,
Vai procurar o Paço da Ventura... 

Meu coração não chega lá decerto...
Não conhece o caminho nem o trilho,
Nem há memória desse sítio incerto... 

Eu tecerei uns sonhos irreais...
Como essa mãe que viu partir o filho,
Como esse filho que não voltou mais!


She wandered through the garden fence (Procol Harum)

She wandered through the garden fence,
And said, "I've brought a great expens-
Ive potion, guaranteed to bring
Relief from all your suffering."
And though I said, "You don't exist,"
She grasped me firmly by the wrist,
Threw me down upon my back,
And strapped me to a torture rack
And without further argument,
I found my mind was also bent
Upon a course so devious
It only made my torment worse

She said, "I see you cannot speak,
Is it your voice that is too weak?
Is it your tongue that is to blame?
Maybe you cannot speak for shame.
Or has your brain been idle, too,
And now it will not speak for you?"
I hastened to make my reply,
But found that I could only lie
And like a fool I believed myself
And thought I was somebody else
But she could see what I was then
And left me on my own again

And like a fool I believed myself
And thought I was somebody else
But she could see what I was then
And left me on my own again

She wandered through the garden fence,
And said, "I've brought a great expens-
Ive potion, guaranteed to bring
Relief from all your suffering."
And though I said, "You don't exist,"
She grasped me firmly by the wrist,
Threw me down upon my back,
And strapped me to a torture rack
And without further argument,
I found my mind was also bent
Upon a course so devious
It only made my torment worse


Florbela Espanca

Falo de ti às pedras das estradas

Falo de ti às pedras das estradas,
E ao sol que é louro como o teu olhar,
Falo ao rio, que desdobra a faiscar,
Vestidos de princesas e de fadas; 

Falo às gaivotas de asas desdobradas,
Lembrando lenços brancos a acenar,
E aos mastros que apunhalam o luar
Na solidão das noites consteladas; 

Digo os anseios, os sonhos, os desejos
Donde a tua alma, tonta de vitória,
Levanta ao céu a torre dos meus beijos! 

E os meus gritos de amor, cruzando o espaço,
Sobre os brocados fúlgidos da glória,
São astros que me tombam do regaço!


A place among the stones (Davy Spillane & Maire Brennan)

Is fada mo shuile ort
Thug mé isteach duit
Tusa mo mhian
Tusa mo mhian

No heart hangs on distant water
What enchantment in this world
I wander westward my heart desires
With seas alive
Shadow me under the mountains of time
Guide me to the endless paths

No tears fall on stoney highways
That skyline splendour lights my way
We wander westward our heart's desire
With seas of light
Shadow me under the mountains of time
Guide us to endless paths


Florbela Espanca

Vaidade

Sonho que sou a Poetisa eleita,
Aquela que diz tudo e tudo sabe,
Que tem a inspiração pura e perfeita,
Que reúne num verso a imensidade! 

Sonho que um verso meu tem claridade
Para encher todo o mundo! E que deleita
Mesmo aqueles que morrem de saudade!
Mesmo os de alma profunda e insatisfeita! 

Sonho que sou Alguém cá neste mundo ...
Aquela de saber vasto e profundo,
Aos pés de quem a Terra anda curvada! 

E quando mais no céu eu vou sonhando,
E quando mais no alto ando voando,
Acordo do meu sonho ... E não sou nada! ...


Riding to Vanity Fair (Paul McCartney)

I bit my tongue
I never talked too much
I tried to be so strong
I did my best
I used the gentle touch
I've done it for so long 

You put me down
But I can laugh it off
And act like nothing's wrong
But why pretend
I think I've heard enough
Of your familiar song 

I tell you what I'm going to do
I'll try to take my mind off you
And now that you don't need my help
I'll use the time to think about myself 

You're not aware
Of what you put me through
But now the feeling's gone
But I don't mind
Do what you have to do
You don't fool anyone 

I'll tell you what I'm going to do
I'll take a different point of view
And now that you don't need my help
I'll use the time to think about myself 

The definition of friendship
Apparently ought to be
Showing support for the one that you love
And I was open to friendship
But you didn't seem to have any to spare
While you were riding to Vanity Fair 

There was a time
When every day was young
The sun would always shine
We sang along
When all the songs were sung
Believing every line 

That's the trouble with friendship
For someone to feel it
It has to be real or it wouldn't be right
And I keep hoping for friendship
But I wouldn't dare to presume it was there
While you were riding to Vanity Fair


Florbela Espanca

Poetas

Ai as almas dos poetas
Não as entende ninguém;
São almas de violetas
Que são poetas também. 

Andam perdidas na vida,
Como as estrelas no ar;
Sentem o vento gemer
Ouvem as rosas chorar! 

Só quem embala no peito
Dores amargas e secretas
É que em noites de luar
Pode entender os poetas 

E eu que arrasto amarguras
Que nunca arrastou ninguém
Tenho alma pra sentir
A dos poetas também!


Let your soul be your pilot (Sting)

Let your soul be your pilot
Let your soul guide you
He'll guide you well

When you're down and they're counting
When your secrets all found out
When your troubles take to mounting
When the map you have leads you to doubt
When there's no information
And the compass turns to nowhere that you know well

Let your soul be your pilot
Let your soul guide you
He'll guide you well

When the doctors failed to heal you
When no medicine chest can make you well
When no counsel leads to comfort
When there are no more lies they can tell
No more useless information
And the compass spins
The compass spins between heaven and hell

Let your soul be your pilot
Let your soul guide you
He'll guide you well

And your eyes turn towards the window pane
To the lights upon the hill
The distance seems so strange to you now
And the dark room seems so still

Let your pain be my sorrow
Let your tears be my tears too
Let your courage be my model
That the north you find will be true
When there's no information
And the compass turns to nowhere that you know well

Let your soul be your pilot
Let your soul guide you
Let your soul guide you
Let your soul guide you upon your way...


Ter dentro d´alma a luz de todo o mundo
E não ver nada nesse mar sem fundo,
Poetas meus irmãos, que triste sorte!... 

E chamam-nos a nós Iluminados!
Pobres cegos sem culpas, sem pecados,
A sofrer pelos outros até à morte!


Música:

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

Fundos
Clannad, Suzanne Ciani, Andreas Vollenweider, Philip Glass

Ligações
Procol Harum, Davy Spillane & Maire Brennan, Paul McCartney, Sting

Textos:
Florbela Espanca

Edição e voz:
José-António Moreira


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And in the end

the love you'll take

is equal to the love you make

© José-António Moreira 2012