Remorso

Fotografia de Sarah Moon


Durante a leitura nocturna
descia, às vezes, as escadas
e procurava no escuro, dentro
de um cesto, uma forma
redonda. Na quadra iluminada
do quarto, mordia depois a maçã
vermelha escura. Era enorme o ruído
dos dentes, no silêncio dessa hora
tardia e irremediável a culpa
de ter destruído aquela polpa húmida
de onde pendia o descarnado pé
no íntimo saber de pequenas sementes
que podia perfeitamente
ter apodrecido em paz.
Inês Lourenço


Comentários

  1. Sentimento desconhecido: remorso!

    Ao Sr. Trump:
    Tenho família nos EUA desde 1951. Já vamos na terceira geração. Visito e sou visitado com regularidade.
    Na Páscoa penso regressar e visitar a minha família.
    Pergunto: se os judeus usavam a estrela de David, já decidiu que símbolo devem os LATINOS usar?
    Eu sou latino, ibérico, europeu, cruzado de mil um sangues, qual o meu símbolo?


    “Cathedral” - CROSBY, STILLS & NASH
    Compositor: Graham Nash

    https://youtu.be/wI7phwtRjUA

    Six o' clock
    In the morning, I feel pretty good
    So I dropped into the luxury of the Lords
    Fighting dragons and crossing swords
    With the people against the hordes
    Who came to conquer.

    Seven o'clock
    In the morning, here it comes
    I taste the warning and I am so amazed
    I'm here today, seeing things so clear this way
    In the car and on my way
    To Stonehenge.

    I'm flying in Winchester cathedral
    Sunlight pouring through the break of day.
    Stumbled through the door and into the chamber,
    There's a lady setting flowers on a table covered lace
    And a cleaner in the distance finds a cobweb on a face
    And a feeling deep inside of me tells me
    This can't be the place

    I'm flying in Winchester cathedral.
    All religion has to have its day
    Expressions on the face of the Savior
    Made me say
    I can't stay.

    Open up the gates of the church and let me out of here!
    Too many people have lied in the name of Christ
    For anyone to heed the call.
    So many people have died in the name of Christ
    That I can't believe it all.

    And now I'm standing on the grave of a soldier that died in 1799
    And the day he died it was a birthday
    And I noticed it was mine.
    And my head didn't know just who I was
    And I went spinning back in time.
    And I am high upon the altar
    High upon the altar, high.

    I'm flying in Winchester cathedral,
    It's hard enough to drink the wine.
    The air inside just hangs in delusion,
    But given time,
    I'll be fine.


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