Sons da Escrita 282

12 de Junho de 2010

Primeiro programa do ciclo Maria de São Pedro

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.


•••

Maria de São Pedro

Quero ver-te

Quero ver-te.
Hoje.
Agora.
Perder-me na concha dos teus braços.
Afundar-me no negro infinito
do teu olhar.
Deslizar na perturbadora vibração
da tua gargalhada.
E reconhecer
num espanto profundo,
não a Paixão (essa passa)
mas a Fascinação na teia
que me caçou estúpidamente
e sem regresso
à calma gélida da minha vida.


When can I see you (Babyface)

When can my heart beat again
When does the pain ever end
When do the tears stop from running over
When does "you'll get over it" begin

I hear what you're sayin'
But I swear that it's not making sense
So when can I see you

When can I see you again
When can my heart beat again
When can I see you again
And when can I breathe once again
And when can I see you 

When does my someday begin
When I'll find someone again
And what if I still am not truly over
What am I s'posed to do then

D'you see what I'm sayin'
Even if it is not making sense
So when can I see you

When can I see you again
When can my heart beat again
When can I see you again
And when can I breathe once again
And when can I see you again

Yeah, baby, d'you see what I'm sayin'
Even if it is not making sense
So when can I see you

When can I see you again
When can my heart beat again
When can I see you again, babe
And when can I breathe once again
And when can I see you, baby, again


Maria de São Pedro

Por falar em ilusões

Por falar em ilusões.
Num diálogo absurdo contigo.
Eu aqui.
Tu... sabe-se lá onde…
Por falar em desespero.
Numa conversa de lágrimas,
beijos e dor.
Por falar em saudade.
Da tua boca,
do ar que te envolve,
do teu perfume…
Por falar em fúria.
Da tua cobardia
encoberta num olhar
molhado de desgosto.
Por falar em Amor…
Continuo a amar-te
desesperada e perdidamente.


Love you ‘till the day I die (Crowded House)

There's closets in my head where dirty things are kept
That never see the light of day
I want to drag them out, go for a walk
Just to see the look that's on your face
Sometimes I can't be straight I don't want to hurt you
So forgive me if I tell a lie
Sometimes I come on cold but don't believe it
I will love you till the day I die

I believe in doing things backwards
Take heed, start doing things in reverse

Here comes trouble, there's nothing wrong when I relax
I'm talking to myself you're coming with me
Teaching you how to distort the facts
Sometimes I can't be straight I don't want to hurt you
So forgive me if I tell a lie
Sometimes I come on cold but don't believe it
I will love you till the day I die

I believe in doing things backwards
Take heed, start doing things in reverse

Frost on the window pane, the sound of pouring rain
All makes me glad of you
Though I am far away I am always with you

Know the answer before you know the question
Pull yourself together, baby, push with all your might
I'm all alone, always alone
Though I am far away
I am always with you


Maria de São Pedro

Enquanto o áspero da tua barba

Enquanto o áspero da tua barba
de dois dias
não roçar no meu rosto…
Enquanto a tua boca não esmagar a minha
num beijo bravio e infindo…
Enquanto o teu corpo moreno
não se enroscar no meu
e a tua voz rouca não suspirar loucuras…
Enquanto não mergulhares no meu pescoço
e me farejares em instinto de Homem-Lobo…
Eu vou acordando
nas longas madrugadas frias
só e mal amada.


Alone again (Gilbert O’Sullivan)

In a little while from now,
If I'm not feeling any less sour
I promised myself to treat myself
And visit a nearby tower,
And climbing to the top,
Will throw myself off
In an effort to make it clear to who
Ever what it's like when your shattered
Left standing in the lurch, at a church
where people 're saying,
"My God that's tough, she stood him up!
No point in us remaining.
We may as well go home."
As I did on my own,
Alone again, naturally

To think that only yesterday,
I was cheerful, bright and gay,
Looking forward to, but who wouldn't do,
The role I was about to play
But as if to knock me down,
Reality came around
And without so much as a mere touch,
Cut me into little pieces
Leaving me to doubt,
Talk about God in His mercy
For if He really does exist
Why did He desert me
In my hour of need?
I truly am indeed,
Alone again, naturally

It seems to me that
There are more hearts
Broken in the world
That can't be mended
Left unattended
What do we do? What do we do?

Alone again, naturally

Now looking back over the years,
And what ever else that appears
I remember I cried when my father died
Never wishing to hide the tears
And at sixty-five years old,
My mother, God rest her soul,
Couldn't understand, why the only man
She had ever loved had been taken
Leaving her to start with a heart
So badly broken
Despite encouragement from me
No words were ever spoken
And when she passed away
I cried and cried all day
Alone again, naturally
Alone again, naturally

Nem de noite há silêncio
No beco da minha rua,
No brilho veludo
Dos teus olhos,
No cântico da tempestade
já tão próxima.
Nem na noite há silêncio
em mim.


Música:

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

Fundos
Suzanne Ciani

Ligações
Babyface, Crowded House, Gilbert O’Sullivan

Textos:
Maria de São Pedro

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