Mother's day
kalevipoeg — 26-05-2007 GTM 1 @ 19:55


"Todo es mentira en este mundo..." (Manu Chao Clandestino)
"Derrida no lee a Husserl de otra manera que lee Eluard(...)" (Habermas, El pensamiento postmetafísico)
LISBON’S MENU:
saturday, may 19th
2 coffees (feat. milk & sugar)
2 apples
some cookies in chocolate cover
2 free samples of gazpacho
2 toasts
sunday, may 20th
2 coffees (loads of milk & sugar)
arroz de bacalhau
tília
VARIA:
saturday, may 19 th
swiming in ocean’s cool waters: 2
falling asleep watching nanni moretti’s “caro diario”: 1
sunday, may 20 th
rain
mal di testa
high level of photo-sensitivity
SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY:
Brunetto, Walter (1992): A música das cantigas da segada transmontanas e a hipótese da sua derivação do canto gregoriano in: Brigantia - Rev. de Cultura, v. 12, no 4 Bragança : Escola Tipográfica.
Correia, João David Pinto (1984): Romanceiro Tradicional Português. Lisboa: Comunicacão.
Lopes, Silvina Rodrigues (1994): A legitimação em literatura. Lisboa: Cosmos.
Reis, Carlos (1995): O conhecimento da literatura. Coimbra: Livraria Almedina.
Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin
Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in
Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Oh let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone
Let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon
Show me slowly what I only know the limits of
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on
Dance me very tenderly and dance me very long
We're both of us beneath our love, we're both of us above
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the children who are asking to be born
Dance me through the curtains that our kisses have outworn
Raise a tent of shelter now, though every thread is torn
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin
Dance me through the panic till I'm gathered safely in
Touch me with your naked hand or touch me with your glove
Dance me to the end of love.
no current water at my place since saturday evening...
« Ça, c’est du vrai art... Ça sera peut-être ennuyeux pour moi, mais finalement: c’est ce-que j’aimerais, je pense. »
« Pardonnez moi, j’espère que je le suis…. »
« faire très peu, et le maximum d’expression, un petit geste… »
[hommage a ma professeur, vous savez laquelle]
ECOS
Los gallos están cantando.
No es aquella madrugada.
Cantan todos. Y
No es aquella madrugada fría.
Cantan todos.
No es aquella madrugada.
Nunca es aquella madrugada.
Samuel Feijóo “En los deltas oscuros”
ECHA
Ptaki śpiewają.
To nie jest tamten świt.
Śpiewają wszystkie. I
To nie jest tamten zimny świt.
Śpiewają wszystkie.
To nie jest tamten świt.
Nigdy nie jest tamten świt.