tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71459836496359450062024-03-13T07:37:28.659+00:00MAR ARÁVELESTE BLOG PRETENDE COLOCAR PAUZINHOS NAS ENGRENAGENS E RESPIRAR POR GUELRASMar Arávelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028775114453585146noreply@blogger.comBlogger1011125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145983649635945006.post-28569804873148064732021-07-15T16:50:00.001+01:002021-07-15T16:50:19.445+01:00VOU ALI E JÁ VENHO<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSIOJ9wxbXX3n6la1VsFzVw6f9Cf03SiNZDhokMM0zYRGzP6uNzF9SqkP3HrJxh2ZHbsCznjchEadlgE-Y9YAa9vzGqp4a4fGKonCPbr9x2urcDLq6a5OoYoLdhdnDzSAaSjTpcCIRwQdp/s812/barco_dali+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="812" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSIOJ9wxbXX3n6la1VsFzVw6f9Cf03SiNZDhokMM0zYRGzP6uNzF9SqkP3HrJxh2ZHbsCznjchEadlgE-Y9YAa9vzGqp4a4fGKonCPbr9x2urcDLq6a5OoYoLdhdnDzSAaSjTpcCIRwQdp/s320/barco_dali+%25281%2529.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><b>Vou ali e já venho</b></p><p><b>Tudo pelo melhor</b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">eufrázio filipe</span></b></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">mararavel</div>Mar Arávelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028775114453585146noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145983649635945006.post-59136853656563473742021-06-30T16:51:00.001+01:002021-06-30T16:52:19.153+01:00À FLOR DA PELE<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtMOnbwDySGHUFh4Tocdb2sKN6RHPqzyaoqpVN5K571TWnK_CQREIvBx3tyMIHtPVlY6kuFPcfryMdSAJnL1Ic9cog7ccw8Ks_WUW4gU5up7PcYokqWkcgRQKBnv7YSC4ibRtBI_EESTgZ/s225/imagesCA4YSQWP+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtMOnbwDySGHUFh4Tocdb2sKN6RHPqzyaoqpVN5K571TWnK_CQREIvBx3tyMIHtPVlY6kuFPcfryMdSAJnL1Ic9cog7ccw8Ks_WUW4gU5up7PcYokqWkcgRQKBnv7YSC4ibRtBI_EESTgZ/s0/imagesCA4YSQWP+%25282%2529.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><b>Os teus olhos pássaros</b></p><p><b>espantados</b></p><p><b>dedilham um rio</b></p><p><b>à flor da pele</b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">eufrázio filipe</span></b></p><p><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></b></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">mararavel</div>Mar Arávelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028775114453585146noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145983649635945006.post-30488893082293648132021-06-19T15:43:00.001+01:002021-06-19T15:43:41.417+01:00A NOSSA ROMÃ<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKGS30tX2CCLtafyzElCLzIVouFo55Da31a0-LuTeftsJ4mYXehztgDcK-y4UbKnRoLl77E3_CBzRtZyvwiLseBHklhsw8mh2_MO69_5JepcyQJglSK6XKiXVq9NqKh-NKmDkK63FFgTgt/s380/miragem+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="285" data-original-width="380" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKGS30tX2CCLtafyzElCLzIVouFo55Da31a0-LuTeftsJ4mYXehztgDcK-y4UbKnRoLl77E3_CBzRtZyvwiLseBHklhsw8mh2_MO69_5JepcyQJglSK6XKiXVq9NqKh-NKmDkK63FFgTgt/s320/miragem+%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Nesta ilha de jangadas imperfeitas, as romãs abriam os lábios,</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>explodiam multidões.</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Os cães adivinhavam o brilho dos relâmpagos e tu caías abrupta</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>nos meus braços.</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Quando te ouvi assim a cair dos céus, desamparada a lubrificar a terra,</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>não sabia o teu nome, muito menos como te beijar os pés.</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Quando te vi assim pendente, incolor, nua de tudo, chamei-te chuva,</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>um qualquer nome - e tu chegaste a cântaros, tão líquida por entre os meus dedos.</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Recebi-te quase ninfa , de braços abertos na minha escarpa e assim ficámos</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>vagarosos instantes a respirar eternidades.</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Ainda hoje não sei quem és senhora.</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Trazias nos cabelos um mar desgrenhado a derramar estrelas, um cântico </b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>sibilino, barcos do outro lado do cais.</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Escancarei as janelas, acendi um fósforo no alpendre da casa, e tu lá estavas</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>sem muros nem amos, a cantar.</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Se tivesse que te desenhar faria um gesto, um risco a carvão no ar</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>que respiramos, bebia-te às mãos cheias,</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>mas deixaria na tua árvore preferida - uma romã.</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Eufrázio Filipe</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></b></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">mararavel</div>Mar Arávelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028775114453585146noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145983649635945006.post-18962779810451825932021-06-04T16:44:00.001+01:002021-06-04T16:44:50.772+01:00OS TEUS PÉS<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcsavEPAfwTCL-Yb9k3KBKHrsfKllLi62_wR18HKVFvDKSU0aBOc9B4D2zrAFnO6Pw4c44XONvEa8dNyGNYFPHq3GgME4kcEKXj7Pm_tZZ1M11LZBkibyYFU82o1WPmyjUgmYLu-NUGxG1/s300/n%25C3%25A3o+me+deixes+agora.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="241" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcsavEPAfwTCL-Yb9k3KBKHrsfKllLi62_wR18HKVFvDKSU0aBOc9B4D2zrAFnO6Pw4c44XONvEa8dNyGNYFPHq3GgME4kcEKXj7Pm_tZZ1M11LZBkibyYFU82o1WPmyjUgmYLu-NUGxG1/s0/n%25C3%25A3o+me+deixes+agora.PNG" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Passo a passo</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>a desbravar caminhos</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>na vertigem das marés</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>andas desandas tropeças</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>constróis pontes</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>precárias definições</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>passo a passo</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>até acontecer uma pedra</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>com vida por dentro</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Sabes que não existem pedras</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>com vida por dentro</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>mas continuam a andar</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>os teus pés</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>passo a passo</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>a cumprir este chão</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">eufrázio filipe</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></b></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">mararavel</div>Mar Arávelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028775114453585146noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145983649635945006.post-221458694977647322021-05-26T16:25:00.001+01:002021-05-26T16:26:27.300+01:00MAREANTES DO VENTO<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB0IxTc90sUiYo85CGpstHq9wwSFBGaNHzaeFGC0287ISPlSXLwKi-78QqlQEoY193Kni_Wrb8XtvAMQT_YR16mCWingTMop6FZi8GCzOgeSRAjV0_bTRll4u-vpNtNbTJADbwDFCTPkxp/s500/barco+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB0IxTc90sUiYo85CGpstHq9wwSFBGaNHzaeFGC0287ISPlSXLwKi-78QqlQEoY193Kni_Wrb8XtvAMQT_YR16mCWingTMop6FZi8GCzOgeSRAjV0_bTRll4u-vpNtNbTJADbwDFCTPkxp/s320/barco+%25281%2529.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Crescemos na nudez das pedras</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>crescemos e desmaiamos</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>conforme as marés</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>vertemo-nos líquidos</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>em caudais de sons</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>ardidos no sal</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>no delírio da espuma</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>por todo o corpo</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>crescemos na substância das pedras</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>com asas muito leves</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>não somos barcos de carregar velas</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>somos mareantes do vento</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>eufrázio filipe</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>(revisitado)</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><p><b><br /></b></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">mararavel</div>Mar Arávelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028775114453585146noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145983649635945006.post-74393276757924083202021-05-13T19:27:00.005+01:002021-05-13T19:36:04.519+01:00O ADMIRÁVEL GRÃO DE AREIA<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMq__OJAILRIMsR639TqE-a2S-d8wFXy32homw4b6b8Jc4_X_7QAh0hUbJg-l03mCeTzXqYw0NFvXI6gbBGzJBs972j8rBVXqfKPk1f0DWQ8d5jOnWSuFw81ddxqxKXtX4MZJigMJ-ngaq/s250/imagesCACLGO20.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="192" data-original-width="250" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMq__OJAILRIMsR639TqE-a2S-d8wFXy32homw4b6b8Jc4_X_7QAh0hUbJg-l03mCeTzXqYw0NFvXI6gbBGzJBs972j8rBVXqfKPk1f0DWQ8d5jOnWSuFw81ddxqxKXtX4MZJigMJ-ngaq/w400-h307/imagesCACLGO20.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Correm em bando os teus olhos</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>por cima das searas e dos ventos</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>porque é preciso transgredir</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>rasgar o véu que se demora em fascínios</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>encontrar no corpo interior</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>um sinal primitivo de nudez</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>uma pequena distração de flor</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>que agite o ambíguo coração dos pássaros</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>e abra novos caminhos</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>por esse mundo </b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>onde todos os rios</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>deviam ser apenas água</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>provavelmente só nos teus olhos</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>há um brilho indígena em gestação</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Eis a nova ordem emergente</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>a gota de orvalho que funde a luz</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>o admirável grão de areia</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>que não repousa</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Eufrázio Filipe</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">mararavel</div>Mar Arávelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028775114453585146noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145983649635945006.post-12713497271737829502021-05-05T16:14:00.000+01:002021-05-05T16:14:37.601+01:00VERDADES IMPROVÁVEIS (2)<div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVwEvqcamRkveINzzdEplsmgHHeC7Z5ZWQXkmqVKvzLIdra7_EI7XdlFXFoTRBwlcwVa0B_kiy-M7_fY8L7JGpkEon910EAPGD80Ocx5IrTWfz_xLSU8QNay8sTfuLEVJ6fJIazLRlxLld/s320/espelho+%25281%2529.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="256" data-original-width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVwEvqcamRkveINzzdEplsmgHHeC7Z5ZWQXkmqVKvzLIdra7_EI7XdlFXFoTRBwlcwVa0B_kiy-M7_fY8L7JGpkEon910EAPGD80Ocx5IrTWfz_xLSU8QNay8sTfuLEVJ6fJIazLRlxLld/s0/espelho+%25281%2529.png" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Na ausência de palavras</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>desenhei uma flor encarnada</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>neste chão de marés</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>soltei-lhe as pétalas</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>cadenciadas</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>silvestres</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>musicais</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>agarrei o vento pelas crinas</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>esculpi </b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>um grão de areia</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>para a vida despontar</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>num sopro</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>e a luz se libertar</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>pelas fissuras das pedras</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>convoquei pássaros</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>e outros silêncios</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>escrevi de novo</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>verdades improváveis</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Inesperadamente</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>hoje não quis salvar o mundo</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><b>Eufrázio Filipe</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">mararavel</div>Mar Arávelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028775114453585146noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145983649635945006.post-75079490618514023492021-04-29T15:53:00.000+01:002021-04-29T15:54:01.785+01:00ESTÁTUA NO EXÍLIO<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Y5gjjFkNfBENtbu48aACG0HdAplA2P9LDVX-eBKH3yZlVfon49r4mQHNSQKOfBFOOBEqE2h1qYOQQJWey3-wE4VijkgXBCFleIOork_oPp4XC6Ulq7LDXC3sHEi4Yk0DJ26JwbLdETiS/s940/Damian+Ch%25C3%25A1vez+by+Catherine+La+Rose+%252843%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="940" data-original-width="440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Y5gjjFkNfBENtbu48aACG0HdAplA2P9LDVX-eBKH3yZlVfon49r4mQHNSQKOfBFOOBEqE2h1qYOQQJWey3-wE4VijkgXBCFleIOork_oPp4XC6Ulq7LDXC3sHEi4Yk0DJ26JwbLdETiS/s320/Damian+Ch%25C3%25A1vez+by+Catherine+La+Rose+%252843%2529.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Sereníssima</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>oriunda dos melhores gestos</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>aos meus olhos</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>supera o criador</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>traz na voz</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>uma feira de barro</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>inscreve nas linhas</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>da palma das mãos</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>contornos de luz</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>celebra o efémero</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>no mais íntimo dos espelhos</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Musa purificada de palavras</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>estátua no exílio</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">eufrázio filipe</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>(Chão de Marés)</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">mararavel</div>Mar Arávelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028775114453585146noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145983649635945006.post-43385291069169214712021-04-21T17:09:00.004+01:002021-04-21T17:11:29.968+01:00MADRUGADA EM FLOR<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzZPZ4qSTgW6b5SzbRR0fbVEZK7Q6nzEZMbVdZrvXOsl8OQ_Ozbl1TnWBdLSpchWfURx0G7okMYyJT8Hby3IouQlpVXWB_KRm3BAjt8Zp8U-uCYDuFb_Mye_0yr9rjgbjwd-0413NZavNc/s620/Cravo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="402" data-original-width="620" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzZPZ4qSTgW6b5SzbRR0fbVEZK7Q6nzEZMbVdZrvXOsl8OQ_Ozbl1TnWBdLSpchWfURx0G7okMYyJT8Hby3IouQlpVXWB_KRm3BAjt8Zp8U-uCYDuFb_Mye_0yr9rjgbjwd-0413NZavNc/s320/Cravo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Na incandescência</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>dos nossos lábios</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>arde em flor a madrugada</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>tangem cordas de oiro e prata</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>os nossos dedos</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>espargimos o sussurro</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>dos cravos</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>caminhos cingidos</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>na voz</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>passo a passo</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>saltam faúlhas</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>que nos alimentam</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>até arder de novo</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b> madrugada</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>eufrázio filipe</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">mararavel</div>Mar Arávelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028775114453585146noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145983649635945006.post-55113371485082629452021-04-14T17:17:00.002+01:002021-04-14T17:23:47.237+01:00NO SENTIDO DO VOO<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjemvXSd17nCAUMteAr9g9V8QpGYFYwlwiZvSuWaZTybobq15EUMNTs5c5tPbAZJW1R2yx6OMx68g67w7uEnMacBloUOTNuE45f7KvK_FrohA6rISRP03sxO7ecyaGIbi2_4r5WvPoOQby2/s500/linhacomboio+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="475" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjemvXSd17nCAUMteAr9g9V8QpGYFYwlwiZvSuWaZTybobq15EUMNTs5c5tPbAZJW1R2yx6OMx68g67w7uEnMacBloUOTNuE45f7KvK_FrohA6rISRP03sxO7ecyaGIbi2_4r5WvPoOQby2/s320/linhacomboio+%25281%2529.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><b>O mar sangrava espumas brancas</b></p><p><b>lenços de linho</b></p><p><b>nas ruas deste chão</b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b>Eu sabia que serenamente</b></p><p><b>no fim da Primavera</b></p><p><b>serias a última a partir</b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b>só não sabia que eras tu</b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b>Ainda desenhaste um círculo</b></p><p><b>para eu traduzir o teu rumo</b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b>Corri no sentido do voo</b></p><p><b>um breve acenar</b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b>Regressei à casa vazia</b></p><p><b>pelo trilho do vento</b></p><p><b>muito antes da luz</b></p><p><b>se afogar em palavras</b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>eufrázio filipe</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">mararavel</div>Mar Arávelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028775114453585146noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145983649635945006.post-41531470697221907602021-04-04T17:03:00.004+01:002021-04-04T17:15:57.710+01:00QUE FARÁS PELAS NOSSAS FLORES<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU8H4PdQuRW9P7pkasjvQppkiVuuXy_QSI82_tuZY6HkBdEqAujN40__TGp3T0qI-a_3xOD4rnMeatiakoc1k7SBNNUorUtiQWhQiVqRkdMz8O-iEU2J_UOQ3EVur6vAvrO9ue6h1Y5gV6/s280/500x500.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="280" data-original-width="280" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU8H4PdQuRW9P7pkasjvQppkiVuuXy_QSI82_tuZY6HkBdEqAujN40__TGp3T0qI-a_3xOD4rnMeatiakoc1k7SBNNUorUtiQWhQiVqRkdMz8O-iEU2J_UOQ3EVur6vAvrO9ue6h1Y5gV6/w400-h400/500x500.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span> </span><span> </span></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>As árvores viajam</b></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>na sombra do verde</b></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>um sussurro de folhas</b></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>e tu foges dos ramos</b></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>amanheces tão distante</b></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>que nem os meus olhos</b></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>descobrem os teus gestos</b></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>As árvores viajam</b></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>onde acontece a cor do fruto</b></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>no chão</b></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>e os pássaros sem amos</b></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>deixam que a sombra</b></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>se rebente</b></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>Que farás pelas nossas flores?</b></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">eufrázio filipe</span></b></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">mararavel</div>Mar Arávelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028775114453585146noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145983649635945006.post-39539810551403616822021-03-25T16:46:00.001+00:002021-03-25T16:54:57.634+00:00PRIMAVERAS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLvx5R4_4GszkS0STCGfBC8InC98PPtwIKQKqt2v6CN0Ci4cj1zswS0vwc-zs3f_hsETx8neVmV3dYWitZDvWkYOThNDvjANDqpx5GyhfCnSOGK6CvKyd4R79P03I1zOd826cXvBdBhXf6/s320/xxxxxxxxxxx+fluir.gif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLvx5R4_4GszkS0STCGfBC8InC98PPtwIKQKqt2v6CN0Ci4cj1zswS0vwc-zs3f_hsETx8neVmV3dYWitZDvWkYOThNDvjANDqpx5GyhfCnSOGK6CvKyd4R79P03I1zOd826cXvBdBhXf6/w300-h400/xxxxxxxxxxx+fluir.gif" width="300" /></a></div><p><b>Abri janelas fechei portões</b></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>soltei os cães</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>mas lá no fundo</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>onde medra a oliveira</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>vi claramente despontar</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>não sei o quê</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>como se as palavras</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>fossem perfumes de cores</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>em desordem</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>no chão que pisamos</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Abri janelas para ouvir</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>o sussurro das águas</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>num sopro de vento</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Não sabia</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>que te chamavam Primavera</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">Eufrázio Filipe</span></b></p><p><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></b></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">mararavel</div>Mar Arávelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028775114453585146noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145983649635945006.post-88305334889564801842021-03-17T17:47:00.002+00:002021-03-17T17:53:04.010+00:00GORJEIAM PALAVRAS<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-kHjRg9wfmKJ3B2pLG05mbz08tKcRD_U5a_vZXliH02Teq01SPIxt-f7ywaG3v6q59xKJCKgbKd_jU4t-QfEPQxjmSmkdyfxbTGiSc0ckkVVJV6suZvv_3zRHOvWGzuMDyM9n6Vqrp3q9/s291/andorinha.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="173" data-original-width="291" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-kHjRg9wfmKJ3B2pLG05mbz08tKcRD_U5a_vZXliH02Teq01SPIxt-f7ywaG3v6q59xKJCKgbKd_jU4t-QfEPQxjmSmkdyfxbTGiSc0ckkVVJV6suZvv_3zRHOvWGzuMDyM9n6Vqrp3q9/w400-h238/andorinha.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p><b>No sulco das águas</b></p><p><b>onde partilhas</b></p><p><b>indizíveis silêncios</b></p><p><b>medram flores</b></p><p><b>gorjeiam palavras</b></p><p><b>as mais íntimas</b></p><p><b>que só dirás aos pássaros</b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">eufrázio filipe</span></b></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">mararavel</div>Mar Arávelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028775114453585146noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145983649635945006.post-42611668564872154132021-03-10T18:08:00.001+00:002021-03-10T18:10:01.564+00:00ONDE VIAJO<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWqGZFoKroVD_DivTEL68jjBzqQr29docgZHYOIqoCVA_IxInts5TXDl4tzcOEsr6A83CKFssFAsTfRWfzRjlLRvnsapJuKG2i5Acw8BQEmVm9P2lkJ3vx6QHj46liiSINzAnvPitnToL0/s400/transferir.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="266" data-original-width="400" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWqGZFoKroVD_DivTEL68jjBzqQr29docgZHYOIqoCVA_IxInts5TXDl4tzcOEsr6A83CKFssFAsTfRWfzRjlLRvnsapJuKG2i5Acw8BQEmVm9P2lkJ3vx6QHj46liiSINzAnvPitnToL0/w400-h266/transferir.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p><b>Há um sulco invisível</b></p><p><b>nas águas</b></p><p><b>onde vijo</b></p><p><b>me transformo</b></p><p><b>e nos desprende</b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">eufrázio filipe</span></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">mararavel</div>Mar Arávelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028775114453585146noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145983649635945006.post-4650908454253141782021-03-06T16:29:00.000+00:002021-03-06T16:29:17.482+00:00PARTIDO COM MEMÓRIAS E AMANHÃS<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMmPKZaigkc5KOgIZTkc_5kk8ELOFY23CRONHQNk73L4AaX-47dB_hwseU4MdNHC2-xK8NH-PLWo3wvQTKK5_RIZwl3bwTbPeDzSD8V4lK5FUAREnJYP0N7Y8Dn-X0sHedrsLrgpwRVUAQ/s2000/2021_festa_avante_cartaz+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1415" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMmPKZaigkc5KOgIZTkc_5kk8ELOFY23CRONHQNk73L4AaX-47dB_hwseU4MdNHC2-xK8NH-PLWo3wvQTKK5_RIZwl3bwTbPeDzSD8V4lK5FUAREnJYP0N7Y8Dn-X0sHedrsLrgpwRVUAQ/w283-h400/2021_festa_avante_cartaz+%25281%2529.jpg" width="283" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><b>1OO gloriosos anos de árdua luta democrática. Gerações de trabalho </b></p><p><b>honestidade e competência. Uma longa vida dedicada aos " filhos dos </b></p><p><b>homens que nunca foram meninos " </b></p><p><b>Um Partido com memórias e amanhãs.</b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">mararavel</div>Mar Arávelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028775114453585146noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145983649635945006.post-43657814108462250892021-03-03T15:57:00.002+00:002021-03-03T16:04:05.552+00:00ASAS REMOS E PASSOS<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcvrOzZrjtT6AOvg9zapokebggMiQw2aCdX9K7PuAUrukq1ghRuXXiZXHcKKlIOm9wx0dnjUc3nevLiGhn3zUZTnLFYt-xs2d8dGT43ahp8NUt7ShotRdWPDX61e-3lg53eMdt_RRRL4df/s800/AUGUSTE+RENOIR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="628" data-original-width="800" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcvrOzZrjtT6AOvg9zapokebggMiQw2aCdX9K7PuAUrukq1ghRuXXiZXHcKKlIOm9wx0dnjUc3nevLiGhn3zUZTnLFYt-xs2d8dGT43ahp8NUt7ShotRdWPDX61e-3lg53eMdt_RRRL4df/w400-h314/AUGUSTE+RENOIR.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><b>Na fímbria do mar</b><p></p><p><b>flores de sal</b></p><p><b>agasalham o pão</b></p><p><b>na tua boca</b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b>Neste espaço íngreme</b></p><p><b>onde te agitas</b></p><p><b>que bom este cansaço</b></p><p><b>de asas remos e passos</b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">eufrázio filipe</span></b></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">mararavel</div>Mar Arávelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028775114453585146noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145983649635945006.post-72361072996275884582021-02-24T16:47:00.005+00:002021-02-24T16:51:47.054+00:00ESPAÇO PARA CANTAR<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7fOr1gtlD55C9cc86mg-iBYJoQ-g9FiXQeEFYNPZR_yFsPnOlqF4geyXpN2e14_xTSs09g-PaHHgqlvw3JhlOFsKafvEW93JS-nYUXVpe8ZcgmVueEMP6CRfVnFKE_mFuT7soWkViiVSr/s730/nome-das-cordas-e-afinacao-do-violao.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="410" data-original-width="730" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7fOr1gtlD55C9cc86mg-iBYJoQ-g9FiXQeEFYNPZR_yFsPnOlqF4geyXpN2e14_xTSs09g-PaHHgqlvw3JhlOFsKafvEW93JS-nYUXVpe8ZcgmVueEMP6CRfVnFKE_mFuT7soWkViiVSr/w400-h225/nome-das-cordas-e-afinacao-do-violao.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p><br /></p><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Nesta aldeia</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>de mares imperecíveis</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>íntegro um pássaro</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>entendeu</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>atiçar o fulgor dos timbres</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>regressar ao cais</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>soltar os barcos</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>e partir</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>nas cordas vocais</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>de uma guitarra</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Nesta aldeia</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>refúgio</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>à flor das águas</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>há espaço para cantar</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>eufrázio filipe</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">mararavel</div>Mar Arávelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028775114453585146noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145983649635945006.post-4311272301858642252021-02-17T17:43:00.003+00:002021-02-17T17:54:48.641+00:00A NOSSA ROMÃ<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJIROPpA4YB3fUrQlXcU17NcVojwnCLammndo_4TSpCI5ESVyrJ85AtW_6tcG7aCMW0rHcTCRqDAEYGN_7MT7sCeuXx_zESvuxTbd9c1HDpC4Mvwu2Dms_XZot3OM82dFfjbLF0d0ivonM/s320/N%2525C2%2525BA%252B15%252BPUXANDO%252BOS%252BBARCOS%252BDEPOIS%252BDA%252BPESCA.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="228" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJIROPpA4YB3fUrQlXcU17NcVojwnCLammndo_4TSpCI5ESVyrJ85AtW_6tcG7aCMW0rHcTCRqDAEYGN_7MT7sCeuXx_zESvuxTbd9c1HDpC4Mvwu2Dms_XZot3OM82dFfjbLF0d0ivonM/w285-h400/N%2525C2%2525BA%252B15%252BPUXANDO%252BOS%252BBARCOS%252BDEPOIS%252BDA%252BPESCA.jpg" width="285" /></a></div><p></p><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Nesta ilha de náufragos e jangadas imperfeitas </b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>as romãs abriam os lábios explodiam multidões.</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Os cães adivinhavam o brilho dos relâmpagos e tu caías abrupta nos meus braços. </b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Quando te vi assim a cair dos céus, desamparada a lubrificar a terra, não sabia o teu nome,</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>muito menos como te beijar os pés.</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Quando te vi assim pendente, incolor, nua de tudo, chamei-te um nome qualquer </b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>e tu chegaste a cântaros, tão líquida por entre os meus dedos.</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Recebi-te quase ninfa de braços abertos na minha escarpa e assim ficámos vagarosos instantes, </b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>a respirar eternidades.</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Ainda hoje não sei quem és senhora.</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Trazias nos cabelos um mar a derramar estrelas, cânticos sibilinos, barcos do outro lado do cais.</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Fiquei sem saber se existias de facto ou teria sido eu a inventar-te</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Escancarei as janelas, acendi um fósforo no alpendre da casa, e tu lá estavas a cair dos céus, </b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>sem muros nem amos a cantar. </b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Tinhas uma vontade serena de liberdade, uma biblioteca onde se destacavam textos apócrifos, </b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>mas também vivificavam ´Jorge Amado e Soeiro Pereira Gomes.</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Se tivesse que te desenhar faria um gesto, um risco a carvão no ar que respiramos.</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Bebia-te às mãos cheias, mas deixaria na nossa árvore preferida - uma romã.</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Eufrázio Filipe</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Texto reconstru'ido</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">mararavel</div>Mar Arávelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028775114453585146noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145983649635945006.post-75094190743704114092021-02-08T17:36:00.000+00:002021-02-08T17:36:12.504+00:00TU CANTAS<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVva-Qjn30psP6WLl7tig2LO37DPYc46K0gfi0sLPRmWjKj9kMuI82bNR-z6-plF4QsQOj21fy1q1mv5cyu1q_9XDJquhldI-W1bxYclZNmWppEjLvtwBHe6tqJaWrcv8uHTh1zV28Ex2j/s600/4233488_stock-vector-songbird.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="564" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVva-Qjn30psP6WLl7tig2LO37DPYc46K0gfi0sLPRmWjKj9kMuI82bNR-z6-plF4QsQOj21fy1q1mv5cyu1q_9XDJquhldI-W1bxYclZNmWppEjLvtwBHe6tqJaWrcv8uHTh1zV28Ex2j/w376-h400/4233488_stock-vector-songbird.jpg" width="376" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Entre oliveiras buganvílias</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>e latidos de cães</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>resiste um poço</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>a céu aberto</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>onde temos por hábito</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>falar baixinho</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>para não acordar silêncios</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>No fundo do poço</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>há um espelho vertiginoso</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>luz que assoma</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>aos nossos olhos escarpados</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Quando chove a cântaros</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>tudo fica mais claro</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>a fluir</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>na solidão das estrelas</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>No fundo do poço</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>não há espaço para cantar</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>mas tu cantas</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">eufrázio filipe</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">mararavel</div>Mar Arávelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028775114453585146noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145983649635945006.post-55097731048026041432021-01-31T15:59:00.001+00:002021-01-31T16:04:12.400+00:00SOMBRA DE LUZ<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisythB0uAf94oZcttQ0MSNDNN_nzYJwCrI3o1JSMbk1u-0qaTvxWjtlOH9EJV_V7w_UJXEqIWyEEgVY_wWsvVnXlYJ9FBGN3tmjcFMviW-Onfcw8eX4EQ2zeU2w6zC2BJsdck9IZF7JdiS/s362/Magritte.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="362" height="331" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisythB0uAf94oZcttQ0MSNDNN_nzYJwCrI3o1JSMbk1u-0qaTvxWjtlOH9EJV_V7w_UJXEqIWyEEgVY_wWsvVnXlYJ9FBGN3tmjcFMviW-Onfcw8eX4EQ2zeU2w6zC2BJsdck9IZF7JdiS/w400-h331/Magritte.jpg" width="400" /></a></div> Magritte<br /><p></p><p><br /></p><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Quando despertei</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>para a árvore</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>que ajudei a plantar</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>nos espelhos da memória</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>chovia uma sombra de luz</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>desejos paisagens sons</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>e foi assim</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>neste equilíbrio </b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>fugaz de assimetrias</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>que inscrevi no tempo que faz</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>um espaço</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>para agitar o vento</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>mares salivas flores de sal</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>e foi assim</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>a prumo nos mastros</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>em desassossego de barcos</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>que organizámos jardins</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>bandos de pássaros</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>relâmpagos</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>quando despertei</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>vesti o melhor fato</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>só para te ver</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>e tu lá estavas</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">eufrázio filipe</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></b></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">mararavel</div>Mar Arávelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028775114453585146noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145983649635945006.post-43865751497905782442021-01-27T17:37:00.002+00:002021-01-27T17:37:53.005+00:00HAJA LUZ NO DESCONFINAMENTO<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDCk4nwy7e5wOKS-eBLMJB2UbKTIykYzfCR5fkOJ7fsIp21ONl1i0FF10ToSmrAoQSgzuEMZ61Y5AafYzPySRdKYrCSMl2Buxdfdz6ZSWhLFfQA9W6Wvo-1f1tBGmv8ahp1DyMNl3Njtcs/s1280/1_ua0vB31llOw6iJqDfVcDdw.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="789" data-original-width="1280" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDCk4nwy7e5wOKS-eBLMJB2UbKTIykYzfCR5fkOJ7fsIp21ONl1i0FF10ToSmrAoQSgzuEMZ61Y5AafYzPySRdKYrCSMl2Buxdfdz6ZSWhLFfQA9W6Wvo-1f1tBGmv8ahp1DyMNl3Njtcs/w400-h246/1_ua0vB31llOw6iJqDfVcDdw.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p><br /></p><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Os desesperados das direitas políticas mais alguns tresmalhados</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>alimentaram o intragável Ventura ... e se fosse um símio ... teria a mesma votação. </b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Trata-se de um fenómeno não original que ofende o regime </b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>e exige um combate partilhado e lúcido dos democratas em torno das questões fundamentais.</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>O coiso não deve ser ignorado, muito menos os que mesmo não o apoiando</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>nele votaram como protesto desgraçado </b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Não basta ter razão no combate a todos os vírus.</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Haja luz no desconfinamento.</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">Eufrázio Filipe</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></b></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">mararavel</div>Mar Arávelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028775114453585146noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145983649635945006.post-71647274534747775092021-01-16T19:10:00.002+00:002021-01-23T17:06:46.206+00:00INCÊNDIO DE CRISÁLIDAS<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcg0lpZRXXxo6_13QSoTMBlnc07dDR4-57-z6rgoFw6QXTUgL59MkbBU4tvhsVCYaIWirGW1t6_d4tKSBIKQTy_UhTNUbVsZ3bL-fHm73ojUM6FPX9_ULoZih6zKlkFRMpJm3YEFR0vgbY/s320/%2528PINTU_1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="269" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcg0lpZRXXxo6_13QSoTMBlnc07dDR4-57-z6rgoFw6QXTUgL59MkbBU4tvhsVCYaIWirGW1t6_d4tKSBIKQTy_UhTNUbVsZ3bL-fHm73ojUM6FPX9_ULoZih6zKlkFRMpJm3YEFR0vgbY/w336-h400/%2528PINTU_1.JPG" width="336" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div style="text-align: left;"><b>A prumo neste clamor de socalcos </b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>passo a passo</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>temos todo o tempo</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>em pleno voo</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>sem mapas nem destinos</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>para nos perder e encontrar</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Quando te penso Abril</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>não estou a carpir lágrimas</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>festejo os olhos dos pássaros</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>o sussurro dos mares</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>solto barcos</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>sopro faúlhas</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>vejo-te em flor</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>num incêndio de crisálidas</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>asas abertas</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>a refulgir madrugadas</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">eufrázio filipe</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">( Chão de Marés)</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></b></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">mararavel</div>Mar Arávelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028775114453585146noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145983649635945006.post-59540839883481063422021-01-06T18:41:00.000+00:002021-01-06T18:41:02.732+00:00AS ÁGUAS SE FAZEM AO MAR<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQXI-dK7n6kok9Pe5HMP8Ymsp0kT4sC71FHk3qwH_BDnIAM9mSiL3TZxb_Fin0YsRBBrU8AWGlkaWtORsjCGjLSh5W91MJOaPcBKKbVPIB3J7Clx0VaI87oV19ynZ3AHKAmS2MdR7vgX6M/s400/alvaro-cunhal+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="368" data-original-width="400" height="368" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQXI-dK7n6kok9Pe5HMP8Ymsp0kT4sC71FHk3qwH_BDnIAM9mSiL3TZxb_Fin0YsRBBrU8AWGlkaWtORsjCGjLSh5W91MJOaPcBKKbVPIB3J7Clx0VaI87oV19ynZ3AHKAmS2MdR7vgX6M/w400-h368/alvaro-cunhal+%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Num encontro de gerações</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>sem verdades absolutas</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>mas fortes convicções</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>as águas </b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>se fazem ao mar</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>lá estaremos a sulcar</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>memórias e amanhãs</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: xx-small;">eufrázio filipe</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></b></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">mararavel</div>Mar Arávelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028775114453585146noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145983649635945006.post-82181558488963481052020-12-27T17:26:00.004+00:002020-12-27T17:30:40.055+00:00DEZEMBRANDO<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcJi-awINsdu5jsop_DYPX5TGgWIjch_AYAIlZ0iDFh77V83Eg18ZhbpDP-Pa70vUjVGtcx3kTV4Cc16dl-adANlM3IKugdzSWXhv3zK1AfCZbqYP1foHUyEXQtEXngujSLlBWpMdVsuEK/s640/1-gerome_jean-leon-pygmalion_and_galatea.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="497" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcJi-awINsdu5jsop_DYPX5TGgWIjch_AYAIlZ0iDFh77V83Eg18ZhbpDP-Pa70vUjVGtcx3kTV4Cc16dl-adANlM3IKugdzSWXhv3zK1AfCZbqYP1foHUyEXQtEXngujSLlBWpMdVsuEK/w310-h400/1-gerome_jean-leon-pygmalion_and_galatea.jpg" width="310" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Numa lufada de mares desgrenhados</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>abri a janela</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>para recolher o vento</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Extintos os presépios</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>regressámos à síntese da tua nudez</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>e eu só podia fazer o que fiz</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>beijei</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>o espelho onde viajam</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>transmigradas</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>memórias quase perfeitas</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Neste palco</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>abre-se o pano</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>cai o pano</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>não existe pano</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>o tempo passa</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>e assim regressámos ternos e mudos</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>às precárias definições</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>ao corpo lindo das metáforas</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">eufrázio filipe</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">(reeditado)</span></b></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">mararavel</div>Mar Arávelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028775114453585146noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7145983649635945006.post-25857673888235431032020-12-23T18:02:00.005+00:002020-12-23T18:07:15.828+00:00TUDO PELO MELHOR<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Cy9UQtLKAPL5yxA1fm7Qfza84AwZlP61cjmts4t6_4NHb5ar9LfIpeOWYJilkNecSajcyUG-Vlrn2GOwP2FyBWnGYXVz2rc0UN2uOfMZjosq-qw_59kOjiNjfbf0UhoW9GxTZhcHMsRH/s400/vinho_e_lareira+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="317" data-original-width="400" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Cy9UQtLKAPL5yxA1fm7Qfza84AwZlP61cjmts4t6_4NHb5ar9LfIpeOWYJilkNecSajcyUG-Vlrn2GOwP2FyBWnGYXVz2rc0UN2uOfMZjosq-qw_59kOjiNjfbf0UhoW9GxTZhcHMsRH/w400-h318/vinho_e_lareira+%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Dezembrando</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>sem medos contra todos os vírus</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>tudo pelo melhor</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>em família e outros amigos</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">eufrázio filipe</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">mararavel</div>Mar Arávelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028775114453585146noreply@blogger.com15