tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52822652711108548462024-02-20T07:53:37.193+00:00KhôraO que dá lugar ao lugar, uma folha líquida de inscrição.Luís P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181183576257932162noreply@blogger.comBlogger264125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282265271110854846.post-54170577194505142022009-09-26T22:25:00.002+01:002010-04-21T04:19:08.785+01:00_um perfeito coração_<em>Porque esta (também) foi a música dos nossos dias.</em><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BgQeJ6BqRLI&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BgQeJ6BqRLI&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Luís P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181183576257932162noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282265271110854846.post-41957682962407500452009-09-17T01:57:00.001+01:002010-04-21T04:18:50.875+01:00Dar tudo pelo Ribatejo<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUr2EfNS6cfKkSORsZZpbLAbxn4Vo1zm9U9DqlhCKL0MVGKjUgqZAHSBTML8qux_K2u9fIGIWgLJN759XMAPT96yENCkOjR3wWOUyzcKNa59u0VJmteHzI1nbmCBtmI48bCfzohgCa0p80/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 283px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397156020670414610" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUr2EfNS6cfKkSORsZZpbLAbxn4Vo1zm9U9DqlhCKL0MVGKjUgqZAHSBTML8qux_K2u9fIGIWgLJN759XMAPT96yENCkOjR3wWOUyzcKNa59u0VJmteHzI1nbmCBtmI48bCfzohgCa0p80/s400/untitled.bmp" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOb0ZAhf34KR4ZCKJrRW8DDAmeq9TG5Pe2bg1puZNXn4FZPZTVucXRci4uzxtNgoSGm6AXUA_z7zgGCfs5xFwsqYCjRBuSYQXRkocr5QG2QZr8g5hBQeRJZ-TFNlkIV0wnpNnnk7dgQ6lW/s1600-h/7324_147438614592_645329592_2316596_1267320_s.jpg"></a><br /><br /><div></div></div>Luís P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181183576257932162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282265271110854846.post-73724593289059202142009-09-08T22:52:00.003+01:002010-04-21T04:17:49.193+01:00Tiptoe(...)<br />You feel good <br />You feel right <br />You're so good <br /><br />Tiptoe <br />Over me <br />Tiptoe<br />(...)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mZJbz3e42Dc&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mZJbz3e42Dc&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Luís P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181183576257932162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282265271110854846.post-9761778206202923762009-09-05T02:10:00.002+01:002010-04-21T04:16:57.366+01:00Soneto de fidelidadeDe tudo ao meu amor serei atento<br />Antes, e com tal zelo, e sempre, e tanto<br />Que mesmo em face do maior encanto<br />Dele se encante mais meu pensamento.<br /><br />Quero vivê-lo em cada vão momento<br />E em seu louvor hei de espalhar meu canto<br />E rir meu riso e derramar meu pranto<br />Ao seu pesar ou seu contentamento<br /><br />E assim, quando mais tarde me procure<br />Quem sabe a morte, angústia de quem vive<br />Quem sabe a solidão, fim de quem ama<br /><br />Eu possa me dizer do amor (que tive):<br />Que não seja imortal, posto que é chama<br />Mas que seja infinito enquanto dure.<br /><br />Vinicius de Moraes<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/YeU9ygRBnFI&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/YeU9ygRBnFI&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Luís P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181183576257932162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282265271110854846.post-34293744132158723722009-09-04T01:05:00.008+01:002010-04-21T04:16:28.347+01:00Paiol do ouro*<div align="center"><strong></strong> </div><div align="center"><strong></strong> </div><div align="center"><strong></strong> </div><div align="center"><strong></strong> </div><div align="center"><strong>Oxum, Deusa das Águas<br />Sereia, cantora, Rainha<br />Reges a minha garganta<br />De onde nasce esse som<br />Te oferto perfumes e flores<br />Por teres me dado esse dom<br /></div></strong><br /><div align="center"><br />Maria Bethânia<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">*</span> <span style="color:#66ffff;">(suddenly in my head)<br /></span></div>Luís P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181183576257932162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282265271110854846.post-87940853715076221532009-09-03T23:40:00.004+01:002010-04-21T03:26:32.736+01:00......Apesar de tudo. E por tudo. Nunca. Nunca o farei. Agora deita aqui e descansa. Nunca o farei, já disse (mesmo que quisesse não conseguiria...). Nunca!<br /><br /><br />E sempre. Sempre o farei. Sempre, já disse (mesmo que não o quisesse não conseguiria...).Luís P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181183576257932162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282265271110854846.post-75035208066300958172009-09-03T22:30:00.003+01:002010-04-21T03:25:42.929+01:00Clap Clap Clap<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpROFBeLfM46E4ABtQ3tlUYcYF07l8URpToYM5_tb_O2FIK45dWzeSCgRVHwpVUiTqIHwGNeL0KWcxEPvDySeZ965rxpNnznIy7eb4FN7LH4OE23iUvztlPW_nK-VXu7QwFE9dgx8MuI1s/s1600/as-meninas-velasquez.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 281px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462410538476860738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpROFBeLfM46E4ABtQ3tlUYcYF07l8URpToYM5_tb_O2FIK45dWzeSCgRVHwpVUiTqIHwGNeL0KWcxEPvDySeZ965rxpNnznIy7eb4FN7LH4OE23iUvztlPW_nK-VXu7QwFE9dgx8MuI1s/s320/as-meninas-velasquez.jpg" /></a></div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-size:100%;"><em>Khôra</em> faz anos. É já <em>uma menina</em>. É <em>pequenina</em>, na indefinição dos seus limites, das suas <em>peles</em>. Hoje, só para a festa - a <em>festa</em> é também uma maneira de <em>khôra</em> ser - veste-se de vestido com laços e toma a forma de <em>uma menina</em>. <em>Uma menina</em> que é uma voz, um espaçamento, um abrir de <em>um lugar</em>. <em>Uma menina</em> que cresce e que cria e recria o seu - um novo? - mundo. <em>Uma menina</em> por entre serpentinas e confetis e fogo de artifício. <em>Uma menina</em> a soprar uma vela. <em>Uma menina</em> de rosto posto nas rugas das mãos.</span><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="justify"></div><div align="center"><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">“</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><em>Entrava a fermosíssima Maria<br />Polos paternais paços sublimados,<br />Lindo o gesto, mas fora de alegria,<br />E seus olhos em lágrimas banhados.<br />Os cabelos angélicos trazia<br />Pelos ebúrneos ombros espalhados.<br />Diante do pai ledo, que a agasalha,<br />Estas palavras tais, chorando, espalha:<br /><br />«Quantos povos a terra produziu<br />De África toda, gente fera e estranha,<br />O grão Rei de Marrocos conduziu<br />Pera vir possuir a nobre Espanha:<br />Poder tamanho junto não se viu,<br />Despois que o salso mar a terra banha.<br />Trazem ferocidade e furor tanto<br />Que a vivos medo e a mortos faz espanto.<br /><br />Aquele que me deste por marido,<br />Por defender sua terra amedrontada,<br />C'o pequeno poder, oferecido<br />Ao duro golpe está da Maura espada.<br />E, se não for contigo socorrido,<br />Ver-me-ás dele e do Reino ser privada;<br />Viúva e triste e posta em vida escura,<br />Sem marido, sem reino e sem ventura.<br /><br />Portanto, ó Rei, de quem com puro medo<br />O corrente Muluca se congela<br />Rompe toda a tardança, acude cedo<br />À miseranda gente de Castela.<br />Se esse gesto que mostras, claro e ledo,<br />De pai o verdadeiro amor assela,<br />Acude e corre, pai, que, se não corres,<br />Pode ser que não aches quem socorres».<br /><br />Não de outra sorte a tímida Maria<br />Falando está que a triste Vénus, quando<br />A Júpiter, seu pai, favor pedia<br />Pera Eneas, seu filho, navegando;<br />Que a tanta piedade o comovia<br />Que, caído das mãos o raio infando,<br />Tudo o clemente Padre lhe concede,<br />Pesando-lhe do pouco que lhe pede.</em>”<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"></div><div align="left"><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Luís Vaz de Camões, <em>Os Lusíadas</em>, Canto III (estrofes 102-106)</span> </span></div>Luís P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181183576257932162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282265271110854846.post-63286704122233123202009-09-03T21:59:00.003+01:002009-11-12T04:05:05.936+00:00O lápis azul é aqui!<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil8MYPWAguVPx4ez2CNfRAqOUNvUY9ztlZ2QbTGb6qBt8EsrlVwwd40hdFry210ePJaURzFtLyppt9cY0EzNlUqZa_5UMrQELjgp5-5w0GQQ2igSrcG2g3VoGAGgdz3KiiHG5-gZnqchMu/s1600-h/manuela_moura_guedes_tvi.jpg"><span style="font-size:100%;"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403038850356550530" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil8MYPWAguVPx4ez2CNfRAqOUNvUY9ztlZ2QbTGb6qBt8EsrlVwwd40hdFry210ePJaURzFtLyppt9cY0EzNlUqZa_5UMrQELjgp5-5w0GQQ2igSrcG2g3VoGAGgdz3KiiHG5-gZnqchMu/s320/manuela_moura_guedes_tvi.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">O que é que faz com que uma empresa de serviço público - a TVI - (nunca perceberei essa mania de que só é “serviço público” o que for pago pelos impostos e administrado pelo Estado) suspenda um dos seus produtos mais rentáveis (o "Jornal Nacional de 6ª") sem apelo nem agravo nem sequer justificação? E sim, a sua administração tem todo o direito a mudar o que bem lhe aprouver, como empresa que é (seja ela de capitais públicos, privados, cooperativos, etc). Agora quando as decisões dessa empresa de serviço público são:<br /><br />a) contra toda a racionalidade económica (a suspensão do Jornal Nacional de 6ª, líder de audiências e alavanca - mais uma! - do horário nobre esmagador da TVI, é tão disparatada financeiramente como a suspensão das novelas compactadas desse mesmo horário nobre e a sua substituição por missas em diferido);<br /><br />b) conformes à vontade do Governo (o Primeiro Ministro disse-o na Assembleia da República muito claramente: a orientação editorial da TVI tinha de mudar. Disse-o também nas várias entrevistas que deu: o jornal da TVI era incómodo para o Governo e para a sua pessoa em particular);<br /><br />c) tomadas à pressa (se era para suspender o programa, porquê deixar a equipa estar a prepará-lo até à véspera? Isso tem alguma racionalidade? Porque não o anúncio de uma alteração da grelha pós Verão?);<br /><br />então permitam-me que concorde que <em>ali há gato</em>. Porque – simplesmente - não faz sentido nenhum (em termos empresariais). Ou melhor: faz todo o sentido (em termos políticos).<br /><br /><em>O lápis azul está a passar por aqui</em>. (ou não fosse o regime um fiel herdeiro das repúblicas que o precederam. Da primeira. E da segunda.)</span> </span></div>Luís P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181183576257932162noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282265271110854846.post-17522242569311731562009-08-28T05:15:00.005+01:002009-10-27T06:35:55.026+00:00Canção das horas nº 28<div align="center"><br />(...)<br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;">You took the part that once was my heart<br />So why not take all of me.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ujdbwEHkv1I&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ujdbwEHkv1I&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></div>Luís P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181183576257932162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282265271110854846.post-1868992318225994222009-08-25T18:50:00.005+01:002009-10-27T06:35:34.145+00:00Let's dance for mercy!<div><font color="#00cccc">Yeah Yeah Yeah<br />Yeah Yeah Yeah<br />Yeah Yeah Yeah<br />Yeah Yeah Yeah<br /></font><br />I love you<br />But I gotta stay true<br />My morals got me on my knees<br />I’m begging please <font color="#ff6666" size="4">stop playing games</font><br /><br />I don’t know what this is<br />‘Cause you got me good<br />Just like you knew you would<br />I don’t know what you do<br />But you do it well<br /><font color="#00cccc" size="4">I’m under your spell<br /></font><br />You got me begging you for <font color="#00cccc" size="5">mercy<br /></font>Why won’t you release me<br />You got me begging you for <font color="#00cccc" size="5">mercy<br /></font>why won’t you release me<br />I said release me<br /><br />Now you think that I<br />Will be something on the side<br />But you got to understand<br />That I need a man<br />Who can take my hand yes I do<br /><br />I don’t know what this is<br />But you got me good<br />Just like you knew you would<br /><br />I don’t know what you do<br />But you do it well<br /><font color="#00cccc" size="4">I’m under your spell</font><br /><br />You got me begging you for <font color="#00cccc" size="5">mercy<br /></font>Why wont you release me<br />You got me begging you for <font color="#00cccc" size="5">mercy<br /></font>Why wont you release me<br />I said you’d better release<br /><br />I’m begging you for <font color="#00cccc" size="5">mercy</font><br />Yes why won’t you realse me<br />I’m begging you for <font color="#00cccc" size="5">mercy</font><br />You got me begging<br />You got me begging<br />You got me begging<br /><br /><br />Duffy<br /><br /><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VxJF8uJJ69Q&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VxJF8uJJ69Q&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></div>Luís P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181183576257932162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282265271110854846.post-58217037236330973912009-08-12T05:00:00.004+01:002009-10-27T06:35:13.879+00:00Canção das horas nº 27<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/fu3ruKJ2MbA&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/fu3ruKJ2MbA&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Luís P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181183576257932162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282265271110854846.post-67574507972837207722009-08-10T22:10:00.001+01:002009-10-27T06:26:38.206+00:00Restauração<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizOKq-y1jvYJ5I0immkrGtWbjtJBWXanQdlLnohrC2EbsGkQ_p4UCMFqBlOw4MJYsPIKdm6bwgzOZPC1xaAEfUcCdkK0vO-engy5laZYGDtGm86o4agPLGpYa0rI084SZ_LRtDBtKqs-sq/s1600-h/Bandeira+de+Portugal.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 167px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397162317786395394" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizOKq-y1jvYJ5I0immkrGtWbjtJBWXanQdlLnohrC2EbsGkQ_p4UCMFqBlOw4MJYsPIKdm6bwgzOZPC1xaAEfUcCdkK0vO-engy5laZYGDtGm86o4agPLGpYa0rI084SZ_LRtDBtKqs-sq/s400/Bandeira+de+Portugal.jpg" /></a><br /><div>Parabéns aos bravos Heróis que às primeiras horas da madrugada restauraram a legalidade! Viva o Rei! Viva Portugal!</div>Luís P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181183576257932162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282265271110854846.post-35013526427974954822009-08-10T04:50:00.007+01:002009-10-27T06:32:01.556+00:00The very thought of you*The very thought of you and I forget to do<br />The little ordinary things that everyone ought to do<br />Im living in a kind of daydream<br />Im happy as a king<br />And foolish though it may seem<br />To me thats everything<br /><br />The mere idea of you, the longing here for you<br />Youll never know how slow the moments go till Im near to you<br />I see your face in every flower<br />Your eyes in stars above<br />Its just the thought of you<br />The very thought of you, my love<br /><br /><br />Ray Noble<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">*</span> "<em>Do coração para a cabeça e da cabeça para o coração"</em>. Sempre. Para sempre. À toujours...<br /><br /><br /><div style="WIDTH: 300px"><br /><object width="300" height="110"><param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/y4wADnlhMu/aus=false/"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><br /><embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/y4wADnlhMu/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="110" wmode="transparent"></embed></object><br /><div style="PADDING-BOTTOM: 1px; BACKGROUND-COLOR: #e6e6e6; PADDING-LEFT: 1px; PADDING-RIGHT: 1px; PADDING-TOP: 1px"><br /><div style="PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 4px; FLOAT: left; PADDING-TOP: 4px"><a href="http://www.imeem.com/"><img border="0" src="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/E6E6E6/" /></a></div><br /><form style="PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px" method="post" action="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/"><input name="EmbedSearchBox"><input style="FONT-SIZE: 12px" value="Search" type="submit"><br /><div style="PADDING-TOP: 3px"><a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=0&ek=y4wADnlhMu" rel="nofollow"><img border="0" src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/152/10/" /></a><a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=1&ek=y4wADnlhMu" rel="nofollow"><img border="0" src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/153/10/" /></a><a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=2&ek=y4wADnlhMu" rel="nofollow"><img border="0" src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/154/10/" /></a><a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=3&ek=y4wADnlhMu" rel="nofollow"><img border="0" src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/155/10/y4wADnlhMu/" /></a></div></form></div></div><br /><a href="http://www.imeem.com/5billdice/music/BpYScr_s/nat-king-cole-the-very-thought-of-you/">The Very Thought of You - Nat King Cole</a>Luís P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181183576257932162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282265271110854846.post-90006283112495413482009-07-30T04:30:00.005+01:002009-10-27T06:24:39.204+00:00Canção das horas nº 26<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/sUQek-qu0zI&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/sUQek-qu0zI&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Luís P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181183576257932162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282265271110854846.post-47992833446406054772009-07-29T05:15:00.001+01:002009-10-27T06:24:09.904+00:00If the stars were mineIf the stars were mine<br />I'd give them all to you<br />I'd pluck them down right from the sky<br />and leave it only blue<br />I would never let the sun forget to shine upon your face<br />so when others would have rain clouds you'd have only sunny days<br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#ff0000;">If the stars were mine<br />I'd tell you what I'd do<br />I'd put the stars right in a jar and give them all to you</span><br /></span><br />If the birds were mine<br />I'd tell them when to sing<br />I'd make them sing a sonnet when your telephone would ring<br />I would put them there inside the square, whenever you went out<br />so there'd always be sweet music whenever you would walk about<br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;">If the birds were mine<br />I'd tell you what I'd do<br />I'd teach the birds such lovely words and make them sing for you</span><br />I'd teach the birds such lovely words and make them sing for you<br /><br />If the world was mine<br />I'd paint it gold and green<br />I'd make the oceans orange for a brilliant color scheme<br />I would color all the mountains, make the sky forever blue<br />So the world would be a painting and I'd live inside with you<br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;">If the world was mine<br />I'd tell you what I'd do<br />I'd wrap the world in ribbons and then give it all to you</span><br />I'd teach the birds such lovely words and make them sing for you<br />I'd put those stars right in a jar and give them all to you.<br /><br /><br /><br />Melody Gardot<br /><br /><br /><object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7bcoQ3VzBOA&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7bcoQ3VzBOA&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object>Luís P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181183576257932162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282265271110854846.post-78672382439824774912009-07-23T04:11:00.005+01:002009-10-27T06:40:01.181+00:00Cosas que no sé<div align="center"><br />[<em>Colonizações.]</em><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pUdZzVjvGn0&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pUdZzVjvGn0&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object></div>Luís P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181183576257932162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282265271110854846.post-67457266508388861592009-07-23T03:35:00.001+01:002009-10-27T06:23:18.111+00:00Canção das horas nº 25<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/YfJrwLJJp3A&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/YfJrwLJJp3A&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Luís P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181183576257932162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282265271110854846.post-65895088435789201602009-07-20T00:29:00.002+01:002009-10-18T05:52:47.690+01:00Green Grass<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQT4w0YAMqD0dk5k2RXm67Y9Zp7Ox4r5VcWyVP2nY5Iyish3V6j7ICN1gGToENd-h5uo590bWA4rRmavP4ftDBw3SYNd5rpkj_j6j5UxAt-BDbF6FABsPkzT58l0bVnMc2-jse7Ja36qa3/s1600-h/dutch_green_grass.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393796774707632898" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQT4w0YAMqD0dk5k2RXm67Y9Zp7Ox4r5VcWyVP2nY5Iyish3V6j7ICN1gGToENd-h5uo590bWA4rRmavP4ftDBw3SYNd5rpkj_j6j5UxAt-BDbF6FABsPkzT58l0bVnMc2-jse7Ja36qa3/s320/dutch_green_grass.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#33cc00;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Lay your head where <span style="color:#ff0000;">my heart</span> used to be<br />Hold the earth above me<br />Lay down in the green grass<br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">Remember when you loved me</span><br /><br />Come closer don't be shy<br />Stand beneath a rainy sky<br />The moon is over the rise<br />Think of me as a train goes by<br /><br />Clear the thistles and brambles<br />Whistle 'Didn't He Ramble'<br />Now there's a bubble of me<br />And it's floating in thee<br /><br />Stand in the shade of me<br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">Things are now made of me</span><br />The weather vane will say<br />It smells like rain today<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">God took the stars and he tossed them</span><br />Can't tell the birds from the blossoms<br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">You'll never be free of me<br /></span>He'll make a tree from me<br /><br />Don't say good bye to me<br />Describe the sky to me<br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">And if the sky falls, mark my words<br />We'll catch mocking birds</span><br /><br />Lay your head where my heart used to be<br />Hold the earth above me<br />Lay down in the green grass<br /><span style="color:#ff6666;">Remember when you loved me<br /></span><span style="color:#ff0000;">Remember when you loved me<br /></span><span style="color:#cc0000;">Remember when you loved me</span></span> </span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#33cc00;"></span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#33cc00;"></span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#33cc00;">Tom Waits by Cibelle<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0yPMdWxSxUg&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><br /><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0yPMdWxSxUg&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-size:85%;">© <a href="http://romeoman.files.wordpress.com/2008/08/dutch_green_grass.jpg">Green grass</a></span></div>Luís P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181183576257932162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282265271110854846.post-87999702472588691742009-07-19T00:10:00.002+01:002009-10-18T05:31:36.033+01:00Saturday night indian fever!<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PkRfHncblio&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PkRfHncblio&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Luís P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181183576257932162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282265271110854846.post-53432342683042881472009-07-18T15:39:00.003+01:002009-10-18T05:22:34.387+01:00Friday indian fever...<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/94ssZP0lvzU&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/94ssZP0lvzU&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Luís P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181183576257932162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282265271110854846.post-22795869650990487372009-07-15T02:25:00.002+01:002009-10-18T05:22:16.092+01:00Odisseia<span xmlns=""><br /><p align="justify"><em>Gil,<br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#8064a2;">You know I love you. I feel I've loved you forever.</span><br /><br />Lately I haven't been feeling very well. Truth be told, I'm tired.<br /><br />Out in the desert, under that car that night, I realized something and I haven't been able to shake it.<br /><br />Since my father died, I spent almost my entire life with ghosts. We've been like close friends and out there in the desert, it occurred to me, that it was time for me to bury them. I can't do that here.<br /><br />I'm so sorry.<br /><br />No matter how hard I try to fight it off, I'm left with a feeling that<span style="color:#8064a2;">, I have to go</span>. I have no idea where I'm going, but I know I have to do this. If I don't, I'm afraid I'll self-destruct, and worse, <span style="color:#8064a2;">you'll be there to see it happen. Be safe.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#8064a2;">Know that I tried very hard to stay. Know that you are my one and only. I will miss you with every beat of my heart. Our life together was the only home I've ever really had. I wouldn't trade it for anything.<br /><br />I love you...I always will.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#8064a2;">Goodbye.</span><br /></p></em><br /><p align="justify"><br /><br /></p><br /><p align="justify">"Sara Sidle goodbye letter to Grissom", <em>CSI Las Vegas</em>, Season 8, "Goodbye and good luck".<br /></p><br /><p align="justify"><br /></p></span><br /><div align="justify"><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PjgVi4dscDI&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PjgVi4dscDI&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></div>Luís P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181183576257932162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282265271110854846.post-21311087919653677952009-07-08T07:30:00.003+01:002009-10-18T05:21:57.729+01:00Canção das horas nº 24<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/cAahPzqKfQU&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/cAahPzqKfQU&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Luís P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181183576257932162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282265271110854846.post-44854196626579122152009-07-07T00:55:00.003+01:002009-10-18T05:21:45.543+01:00Cosmiawhen you ate I saw your eyelashes<br />saw them shake like wind on rushes<br />in the corn field when she called me<br />moths surround me - thought they'd drown me<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">and I miss your precious heart...</span></strong><br /><br />dried rose petal, red-brown circles<br />framed your eyes and stained your knuckles<br /><br />and all those lonely nights down by the river<br />brought me bread and water (water, in)<br />but though I tried so hard, my little darling<br />I couldn't keep the night from coming in<br /><br />and all those lonely nights down by the river<br />I was brought my bread and water by the kith and the kin<br />now in the quiet hour when I am sleepin'<br />I cannot keep the night from comin' in<br /><br />why've you gone away, gone away again?<br />I'll sleep through the rest of my days<br />if you've gone away again<br /><br />sleep through the rest of my days...<br /><br />why've you gone away, away?<br />seven suns, seven suns<br />away, away, away, away<br /><br />can you hear me? will you listen?<br />don't come near me, don't go missing<br />in the lissome light of evening<br />help me, Cosmia, I'm grieving<br /><br />beneath the porch light, we've all been circling<br />beat our dust hearts, singe our flour wings<br />but in the corner, something is happening!<br />wild Cosmia, what have you seen?<br /><br />water were your limbs, and the fire was your hair<br />and then the moonlight caught your eye<br />and you rose through the air<br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">well, if you've seen true light, then this is my prayer:<br />will you call me when you get there?<br /></span><br /></strong><span style="font-size:180%;"><strong>and I miss your precious heart<br />and miss, and miss, and miss<br />and miss, and miss, and miss<br />and miss, and miss your heart<br />but release your precious heart<br />to its feast, for precious hearts</strong><br /></span><br /><br />Joanna Newsom<br /><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0kM0VVUjRXc&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0kM0VVUjRXc&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Luís P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181183576257932162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282265271110854846.post-14829172849395803422009-07-05T23:48:00.003+01:002009-10-18T05:21:26.780+01:00Canção das horas nº 23<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IYl0uLrXP7U&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IYl0uLrXP7U&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Luís P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181183576257932162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282265271110854846.post-52000273504007170442009-07-02T03:07:00.003+01:002009-10-18T05:21:09.941+01:00Dez<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE3n6PQgtmRcDYD5vapn-XP-rv2hZ-eL0LBR-cUr35i8zTtHWx8fpNcumCYCYPM2gYcXAOiPJC9HyQhxuQldINuyOSnvCPTHrsAmf6fXiDMfz3-FdnodYIrH8CC2UHv0dyVY9KsW7BugnT/s1600-h/Marcelo+Maimoni.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 224px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356637891983722258" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE3n6PQgtmRcDYD5vapn-XP-rv2hZ-eL0LBR-cUr35i8zTtHWx8fpNcumCYCYPM2gYcXAOiPJC9HyQhxuQldINuyOSnvCPTHrsAmf6fXiDMfz3-FdnodYIrH8CC2UHv0dyVY9KsW7BugnT/s320/Marcelo+Maimoni.jpg" /></a><span xmlns=""><br /><br /><div><br /><p>Dez vezes te digo<br /></p><br /><br /><p>dez vezes te digo<br /></p><br /><br /><p>dez vezes te digo<br /></p><br /><br /><p>dez vezes te digo<br /></p><br /><br /><p>dez vezes te digo<br /></p><br /><br /><p>dez vezes te digo<br /></p><br /><br /><p>dez vezes te digo<br /></p><br /><br /><p>dez vezes te digo<br /></p><br /><br /><p>dez vezes te digo<br /></p><br /><br /><p>dez vezes te digo que te amo<br /></p><br /><br /><p><br /></p><br /><br /><p>e uma vez mais te adoro.<br /></p><br /><br /><p></p><br /><br /><p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">© Marcelo Maimoni</span></p></span></div>Luís P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181183576257932162noreply@blogger.com0