Thursday, March 19, 2015

Vestidos não choram Trabalham e ganham menos Vestidos não morrem sem lutar Vestidos são usados por mulheres Burcas são usadas por mulheres Mulheres são usadas Mulheres são mães e pais Mulheres são operárias e empregadas domésticas Mulheres são juízas Mulheres são sábias Mulheres ficam doentes quando mulheres são inocentes Mulheres são bruxas Mulheres podem ser más Mulheres podem ser mais. 08 de março 2015 Josette Lassance

eu e Fernando

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

DOG DESERT - Josette Lassance / tradução Fabíola Marques

It is night here in dog desert //// The wild west world, among enemies and enemies ///// it is a valley… a desert where men get lost ///// From this very place, where the sight splits up, from the view of the dry road to the cattle skull ///// The wooden ranches cut by the railroad ///// I see all the things submerse in its feelings. Things that we always profane, //// Without any tenderness, evading the bonds of the holy rituals ///// in this lost hour pieces blend and the emptiness fills the horizon ///// nothing beyond a petty life ///// of traps already set ///// 1 it´s night here in dog desert ///// not even the Jasmin shadows fall over the ground in this dry summer, of huge moons ///// where the wind brings desires ///// wild west world ///// good guys, bad guys and bad guys compensate for one another as equals ///// from this very place, we see them all under sand storms ///// to the rifles and shrapnel ///// of shotguns ///// It is night here in dog desert ///// and the day is made of dust, blood and sweat of men ///// who head to ///// a land ///// which will never have an owner, ///// it will be like the nights ///// of velvet and flesh //// among stone faunas ///// and the black sky luxuries ///// nothing will give you ties ///// where the same face can burn under either the sun or dusk //// and nothing else can be done //// we are tired of acid ///// of robot fantasies ///// we are tired of what does not mean ///// engagement ///// here it is night in dog desert ///// lost hour ///// stone hour ///// time to howl to the ashes of the moon.

Thursday, January 30, 2014

Poema de Ulisses Tavares

"nada sei sobre a vidinha do pernilongo que mato indiferente na parede. mas desconfio que era a única que ele tinha"