Month: March 2013

eco

De onde vêm as palavras e para onde vão? Por que esquinas se roçam, por que caminhos se perdem? Por onde se quedam e por onde se rendem, por onde se prendem e por onde se acham escravas incólumes vergastas impunes, trevas pirilampos cardumes núvens céu? Porque são elas portas tais, assim, portais e chão e pão e enlace e navalha? Porque calha as palavras serem mão e serem pedra, eco perfume sortilégio e gume, mágoa suspiro risada e perderem-se em água e onda e nada? E porque sempre regressam como se fruto maduro ao ventre verde ou como vento suão e voraz quando já nada se pode, mesmo quando não se querem mais? Morrerão alguma vez as palavras como morrem os sonhos e se fecham os lábios e as mãos, e se apagam finalmente os dias os olhos os ecos as vozes?   © Nina Light CC-BY-NC-ND image credit: “L’Umanitá contro el male”, Gaetano Cellini (1908), photo by Massimo Cuomo found @ eccelenze-italiane.tmblr.com      

the magpies

  I know that when I was born the gods that purvey for such things had run out of all sorts and manners of clay, and so they had no choice but to shape me out of a magpie. At least that is what Auntie used to tell me – that, and that I had somehow turned out just like Nan. – Why, was Nana made of magpie too? – She too was fashioned out of a magpie, girl… Why, she is the original magpie! Next to her, all other magpies are but pale and hopeless reflections. – Even me? – Even you, girl. You’ve got a lot of bread to go through before you can fill her shoes, that’s for sure, but you’re sure giving it one hell of a good try! You show real promise. Like Nan, like child. Magpies, one and the other. – And you, Tattie, weren’t you made of magpie too? – Me, I’m the palest of them all. My magpie hasn’t got the time, and she’s seen so much …