Baú das Palavras

Sophia (1919 - 2004) Naquele Tempo Sob o caramachão de glicínia lilaz As abelhas e eu Tontas de perfume Lá no alto as abelhas Doiradas e pequenas Não se ocupavam de mim Iam de flor em flor E cá em baixo eu Sentada no banco de azulejos Entre penumbra e luz Flor e perfume Tão ávida como as abelhas Sophia de Mello Breyner Andresen , Abril de 98

Senti que... A essa hora, o sol ainda não levava a noite a sério. José Abílio Coelho, no conto "Dorme, Mingos" de O Homem que Apanhava Almas

O me! O life! O Me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; Of the endless trains of the faithless - of cities fill’d with the foolish; Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?) Of eyes that vainly crave the light - of the objects mean - of the struggle ever renew’d; Of the poor results of all - of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me; Of the empty and useless years of the rest - with the rest me intertwined; The question, O me! so sad, recurring - What good amid these, O me, O life? Answer That you are here - that life exists, and identity; That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse. Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass