Thomas Feiner & Anywhen, album The Opiates - Revised
'In the mood' com «O resto, é cimento...», no «Arpose»
All a top physicist knows
If all a top physicist knows
About the Truth be true,
Then, for all the so-and-so's,
Futility and grime,
Our common world contains,
We have a better time
Than the Greater Nebulae do,
Or the atoms in our brains.
Marriage is rarely bliss
But, surely, it would be worse
As particles to pelt
At thousands of miles per sec
About a universe
In which a lover's kiss
Would either not be felt
Or break the loved one's neck
Though the face at which I stare
While shaving it be cruel
For, year after year, it repels
An ageing suitor, it has,
Thank God, sufficient mass
To be altogether there,
Not an indeterminate gruel
Which is partly somewhere else.
Our yes prefer to suppose
That a habitable place
Has a geocentric view,
That architects enclose
A quiet euclidean space:
Exploded myths - but who
Would feel at home a-straddle
An ever expanding saddle?
The passion of our kind
For the process of finding out
Is a fact one can hardly doubt,
But I would rejoice in it more
If I knew more clearly what
We wanted knowledge for,
Felt certain still that the mind
Is free to know or not.
It has chosen once, it seems,
And whether our concern
For magnitude's extremes
Really becomes a creature
Who comes in a a median size,
Or politicising Nature
Be altogether wise,
Is something we shall learn.
W.H.Auden, After Reading a Child's Guide to Modern Physics,
in dark matter poems of space, selecção de Maurice Riordan e Jocelyn Bell Burnell, Ed. Fundação Calouste Gulbenkian, p.54-55
BBC,Horizon: Is Everything We Know About the Universe Wrong?(2010)
Partes II , III , IV , V e VI .
About the Truth be true,
Then, for all the so-and-so's,
Futility and grime,
Our common world contains,
We have a better time
Than the Greater Nebulae do,
Or the atoms in our brains.
Marriage is rarely bliss
But, surely, it would be worse
As particles to pelt
At thousands of miles per sec
About a universe
In which a lover's kiss
Would either not be felt
Or break the loved one's neck
Though the face at which I stare
While shaving it be cruel
For, year after year, it repels
An ageing suitor, it has,
Thank God, sufficient mass
To be altogether there,
Not an indeterminate gruel
Which is partly somewhere else.
Our yes prefer to suppose
That a habitable place
Has a geocentric view,
That architects enclose
A quiet euclidean space:
Exploded myths - but who
Would feel at home a-straddle
An ever expanding saddle?
The passion of our kind
For the process of finding out
Is a fact one can hardly doubt,
But I would rejoice in it more
If I knew more clearly what
We wanted knowledge for,
Felt certain still that the mind
Is free to know or not.
It has chosen once, it seems,
And whether our concern
For magnitude's extremes
Really becomes a creature
Who comes in a a median size,
Or politicising Nature
Be altogether wise,
Is something we shall learn.
W.H.Auden, After Reading a Child's Guide to Modern Physics,
in dark matter poems of space, selecção de Maurice Riordan e Jocelyn Bell Burnell, Ed. Fundação Calouste Gulbenkian, p.54-55
BBC,Horizon: Is Everything We Know About the Universe Wrong?(2010)
Partes II , III , IV , V e VI .
Não conta nada
Last night I told a stranger all about you.
Morphine
Ontem à noite tentei contar
a um estranho tudo o que sabia
acerca de ti, e não sabia nada.
Talvez o amor seja mau psicólogo,
talvez nos embruteça a inteligência.
Quem tem uma vida pode contá-la,
mas quem ficou preso numa rede
de sentimentos adversos, quem
se debate no interior de um soneto
de onze varas, só pensa em acordar
num corpo distante, tem lá tempo
para usar a cabeça. Vai pela névoa
de coração vendado, na boca palavras
que não proferiu, leva para casa
tudo o que lhe dizem, por que será.
José Miguel Silva, in Periférica n.º 3 [Nos limites do silêncio]
Data
À maneira de Eustache Deschamps
Tempo de solidão e de incerteza
Tempo de medo e tempo de traição
Tempo de injustiça e de vileza
Tempo de negação.
Tempo de covardia e tempo de ira
Tempo de mascarada e de mentira
Tempo de escravidão
Tempo dos coniventes sem cadastro
Tempo de silêncio e de mordaça
Tempo onde o sangue não tem rasto
Tempo de ameaça.
Sophia de Mello Breyner Andresen, Antologia,
Círculo de Poesia - Moraes Editores, p.194
Subscrever:
Mensagens (Atom)