.
.
Eu tenho uma certa inveja de quem morre. A vida é maravilhosa, um milagre. Mas é uma prisão também. A gente é aprisionado. Nosso corpo, nosso templo, tem uma fronteira. Você tem uma fronteira. E quando você morre, você dissolve. Então eu tenho uma certa inveja de quem morre.

- Rita Lee em Ritas
.
,
,
lovely nothing
- adam zagajewski
.
.
.
EQUINÓCIO DE SETEMBRO

a flor invisível
pela fresta da janela
sussurra primavera

em minha clausura
cubro as paredes de hera*

- AR
.
.
.
Albert Camus's quote from The Myth of Sisyphus cited in The Pitt, S01E10



.
.
A alma deve calar-se, cessar todo esforço próprio e deixar que Deus opere nela.
- Miguel de Molinos citado em Linhas Cruzadas
.
.
.
Aquele que dogmatiza suas opiniões e não escuta os outros não é cidadão.
- Byung-Chul Han, O espírito da esperança
.
.
.
A velha permaneceu impassível, silenciosa, olhando, sem qualquer interesse, como uma substância química numa chapa fotográfica, absorvendo informações visuais, porque elas estavam ali para serem absorvidas, mas incapaz de formar qualquer ideia a respeito do que estava vendo.

- Aynd Rand, A revolta de Atlas
.
.
.
agora não é mais

.
.
LIBER

o passarinho preso
no apartamento
as janelas
abertas

seu voo ansioso
emudece as deusas
lá fora

- AR
.
.
.
from here


.
.
Tell me I'm living,
I won't believe you.

- Louise Glück
.
.
.
SPENT

Suffer as in allow.

List as in want.

Listless as in transcending
desire, or not rising
to greet it.

To list 
is to lean,
dangerously,
to one side.

Have you forgotten?

Spent
as in exausted.

- Rae Armantrout
.
.
.
I’m positive you aren’t thinking about me which is fine
- Rae Armantrout
.
.
.
out'f breath out'f body out'f'riends

.
.
THE BROKEN SANDAL

Dreamed the thong of my sandal broke.
Nothing to hold it to my foot.
How shall I walk?
                Barefoot?
The sharp stones, the dirt. I would
hobble.
And–
Where was I going?
Where was I going I can’t
go to now, unless hurting?
Where am I standing, if I’m
to stand still now?

- Denise Levertov
.
.
.
I was so sure my love of you was perfect
- Michael Ryan
.
.
.
ZAZEN ON CHING-T'ING MOUNTAIN

The birds have vanished down the sky.
Now the last cloud drains away.

We sit together, the mountain and me,
until only the mountain remains.

- Li Po
.
.
.
I stood inside myself
like a dead tree or a tower.

- Gregory Orr
.
.
.
Let go. Let go.
- Anne Sexton
.
.
.
GLUKUPIKRON

to Sappho

Word you created
which we translate
bittersweet
thereby
reversing the terms
as if we thought pain
came first
and pleasure only later;
for you maybe joy
was initial,
to be followed
by harsh disappointment.

Yet in the word itself
the two fuse,
and in the condition
it refers to
they mingle,
indistinguishable,
not to be separated
by any force.

It was
your word for love.

- Gregory Orr

.
.
My desire’s to stay alive
and be no larger
than a sliver
lodged in my own heart.

And if the heart’s a rock
I’ll whack it with this tin
cup and eat the sparks,
always screaming, always
screaming for more.

- Gregory Orr
.
.
.
When day comes we ask ourselves,
where can we find light in this never-ending shade?
The loss we carry,
a sea we must wade

- Amanda Gorman
.
.
.
Não havia sinal de emoção em sua voz, apenas um esforço sem vida. Não era o tom de voz de quem quer falar, e sim o som feio e torturado do dever.

- Ayn Rand, A revolta de Atlas, sobre Rearden
.
.
.
invisível como a corrente sanguínea das estátuas
- em niki
.
.
.
If there is no God,
Not everything is permitted to man.
He is still his brother's keeper
And he is not permitted to sadden his brother
By saying that there is no God.

- Czesław Miłosz
.
.
.
UNDE MALUM

Where does evil come from?
It comes

from man
always from man
only from man

      - Tadeusz Rosewicz


Alas, dear Tadeusz,
good nature and wicked man
are romantic inventions
you show us this way
the depth of your optimism

so let man exterminate
his own species
the innocent sunrise will illuminate
a liberated flora and fauna

where oak forests reclaim
the postindustrial wasteland
and the blood of a deer
torn asunder by a pack of wolves
is not seen by anyone
a hawk falls upon a hare
without witness
evil disappears from the world
and consciousness with it

Of course, dear Tadeusz,
evil (and good) comes from man.

- Czesław Miłosz (2000)
.
.
.
Convictions, beliefs, opinions,
certainties, principles,
rules and habits have abandoned me.

- Czesław Miłosz
.
.
.
no volume máximo

.
.
leveram Deus 
e é por isso que eu não amo nunca mais

.
.
Please, don't.

.
.
LUZ RETIDA

noite escura
lua suspensa

no mesmo instante
click no iphone 

um céu azul
aparece

- AR
.
.
.
I am under accusation: That I am not up to my oeuvre,
That I do not demand enough from myself

- Czesław Miłosz
.
.
.
and the words that I throw ricochet and they cut straight through me

.
.
Tell the truth I told me                    When I couldn't speak.

- Lucie Brock-Broido
.
.
.
love is time, love is space

.
.
why would you want me desolate in the end
- louise glück
.
.
.
Your poor idea of heaven: the absence of change.
- Louise Glück
.
.
.
Cheguei em setembro assim:

Livros
O espírito da esperança de Byung-Chul Han
The Wild Iris de Louise Glück

Séries 
Foundation (Temporada 03)
Invasion (Temporada 03)

Novela

Álbuns
The Summer Portraits de Ludovico Einaudi
Rhonda's Boots & Legs de Silvia Machete
Big Money de Jon Batiste 

Tumblr

Diagnósticos
.
.
.
EPIFANIA ENTOMOLÓGICA

Mudei de mês, de pele, de lar.
Vieram bichos – pensei em amar.
Mas a paz exige ordem,
e a ordem, às vezes, mata devagar.

- AR
. 
.
.
Flawed and aware of it. Desiring greatness,
Able to recognize greatness whenever it is,
And yet not quite, only in part, clairvoyant,
I knew I was left for smaller men like me:
A feast of brief hopes, a rally of the proud

- Czesław Miłosz
.
.
.
no volume máximo

.
.
Não compreendia a natureza da solidão que sentia. As únicas palavras que lhe ocorriam eram: não era este o mundo que eu esperava encontrar.

- Aynd Rand, A revolta de Atlas, Dagny
.
.
.
ENTRE O REAL
E O REFLEXO

a consciência se curva
na repetição do instante
o tempo observa
o gesto
vago

- AR
.
.
.
the echo and the silence
- czesław miłosz
.
.
.
Who, after all, wants to be told that truth is a rebellion of the mind against its utilitarian vocation?

- Czesław Miłosz
.

.
.
The wound is where the light enters.
- Maya C. Popa
.
.
.
.
.
people introduce us to ourselves
- courtney kampa
.
.
.
the tiuu of birds
.
.
.
LANGUAGE
Cosmos, i.e., pain raved in me with a diabolic tongue.

HARMONY
Deprived. And why shouldn't you be deprived?
Those better than you were deprived.

LONGING
Not that I want to be a god or a hero.
Just to change into a tree, grow for ages, not hurt anyone.

- Czesław Miłosz
.
.
.
with my companion, the spirit of desolation
- czesław miłosz
.
.
.
MUDANÇA

solidão nova
mesmo vento, outro vazio
mesmo eu, sem mim

- AR
.
.
.
My heart grew weary
From delight,
From despair,
From ardor,
From hope.

- Czesław Miłosz
.
.
.
A shame of failing to be
what I should have been.

- Czesław Miłosz
.
.
.
.
.
Full of
beg, I wait for a prince longing to give my
breath back to me. Heretic tongue,
I will never admit what he means to
me. Will say
he was simply a game I
could not pass up. Love
is a death wish between you
and the you you’re becoming. I will never admit to
him that his love feels like a tease
from God. A gift I
only deserve as prelude to punishment. Love
is a bluff  between goodbye and forever. You
give yourself to the gamble, to
the breathlessness that is a hammer
on your chest. I
will never admit what his love
is to me.

- Josh Alex Baker
.
.
.
UNROMANTIC LOVE
J. V. Cunningham

There is no stillness in this wood.
The quiet of this clearing
Is the denial of my hearing
The sounds I should.

There is no vision in this glade.
This tower of sun revealing
The timbered scaffoldage is stealing
Essence from shade.

Only my love is love’s ideal.
The love I could discover
In these recesses knows no lover,
Is the unreal,

The undefined, unanalysed,
Unabsolute many;
It is antithesis of any,
In none comprised.
.
.
.
eu poético
ou eu ferido
qual é invenção
e qual é ruído?

- AR
.
.
.
DEPOIS DE DRUMMOND

corpo corpo vasto corpo
se eu me chamasse matéria
seria ausência, não solução

corpo corpo vasto corpo
mais vasta é a contradição

- AR
.
.
.
building the stairway of abstraction
- czesław miłosz
.
.
.
Come, Holy Spirit,
bending or not bending the grasses

- Czesław Miłosz
.
.
.
Saturday evening mood

.
.
We leave doors open for people 
who'll never knock again.
Stubborn human heart. Living 
for the maybes and the what-ifs.

- Albert Camus
. 
.
.
And the days are not full enough
And the nights are not full enough
And life slips by like a field mouse
                             Not shaking the grass.

- Ezra Pound
. 
.
.
I lean to you, numb as a fossil.
Tell me I'm here.

- Sylvia Plath
,
.
.
I haven't forgotten you. The nights are long and difficult.
- Frida Kahlo
.
.
.
Where are you, how are you, do you love me—
- Virginia Woolf
.
.
.
pelo vazio, pela avenida, pelos desfiladeiros mudos
- czesław miłosz
.
.
.
a bétula e a cigarra e o dom-fafe guardados na minha memória
- czesław miłosz
.