Le Débat de Méthode entre Moreau et Bonaparte

Elektra 2008

2010-09-27T20:02:00.000-07:00

“Everyone contemplated the coffin in silence… after a moment of meditation, of absolute silence, the Queen, with a respectful, calm and severe expression, turned to the (thirteen-year-old) Prince of Wales, and putting her hand on his shoulder said “Kneel down before the tomb of the great Napoleon”. At that moment, a terrible storm, to which the torrid heat of the last few days had been working up, burst forth. Great peals of thunder shook all the windows of the chapel, and their sound went echoing round the vault. Rapid and ceaseless flashes of lightning gave an almost supernatural aspect to the moving and solemn scene, by continually illuminating it with an unnatural brilliance… Waterloo, St. Helena, the English alliance, England in the person of her Queen and of the future King who was kneeling before the remains of Napoleon; all that made my senses reel… I could no longer control myself and began to weep” (Marechal Canrobert – sobre a visita de Vitoria e do futuro Eduardo VII ao túmulo de Napoleão em 1855)

Smetana 2005

2010-07-08T11:09:00.000-07:00

Sons of th Greeks, Arise!
The glorious hour's gone forth,
And, worthy of such ties,
display who gave us birth.
Then manfully despising
The Turkish tyrant's yoke,
Let your country see you rising,
And all her chains are broke.
Sons of Greeks! let us go
In arms against the foe,
till their hated blood shall flow
In a river past our feet.

Brave shades of chiefs and sages.
Behold the coming strife!
Hellénes of past ages,
Oh, start again to life!
At the sound of my trumpet breaking
Your sleep, oh, join with me!
And the seven-hilled city seeking,
Fight, conquer, till we're free.

Byron

Papagiorgis 2008

2010-07-06T12:38:00.000-07:00

REUNIÃO EXTRAORDINÁRIA AMANHÃ - SECTOR ARTES VISUAIS

AMANHÃ, dia 7.06, pelas 19h no Carpe Diem na Rua de O Século 79, no Bairro Alto.

No seguimento da Plataforma Geral da Cultura, que decorreu ontem dia 5.07 no Teatro Maria Matos reunindo as plataformas de profissionais do teatro, cinema e dança, assim como outros individuais independentes das várias áreas da criação cultural, decidimos que seria importante organizar uma comissão representativa dos profissionais das artes visuais, a juntar às demais criadas pelos os outros sectores da cultura.

A situação é muito grave, é urgente tomar uma posição.

Os diferentes cortes orçamentais que o governo anunciou, aliados ao corte total das verbas destinadas a aquisições de obras para colecções do Estado, a inexistência total de uma política cultural sustentada para o sector, colocam-nos, e ao país, perante consequências desastrosas.

Assim convocamos todos os artistas, produtores, agentes, curadores, iniciados, para uma reunião AMANHÃ, dia 7.06, pelas 19h no Carpe Diem na Rua de O Século 79, ao Bairro Alto.

O momento é agora, vamo-nos unir!!!

Passem a palavra

A Comissão Provisória

Blake 2009

2010-06-16T01:25:00.000-07:00

Rodolphe s’était rapproché d’Emma, et il disait d’une voix basse, en parlant vite :

— Est-ce que cette conjuration du monde ne vous révolte pas ? Est-il un seul sentiment qu’il ne condamne ? Les instincts les plus nobles, les sympathies les plus pures sont persécutés, calomniés, et, s’il se rencontre enfin deux pauvres âmes, tout est organisé pour qu’elles ne puissent se joindre. Elles essayeront cependant, elles battront des ailes, elles s’appelleront. Oh ! n’importe, tôt ou tard, dans six mois, dix ans, elles se réuniront, s’aimeront, parce que la fatalité l’exige et qu’elles sont nées l’une pour l’autre. (Flaubert - Madame Bovary)

Xerxes 2009

2010-06-15T16:47:00.000-07:00

"Le petit garçon noir pleurant sur ses habits volés, dans la forêt pleine de tigres qui pourraient encore le dévorer mai qu’il mangera lui-même avec un appétit de petit cannibale ; les deux rois nègres de Roussel qui se battent en duel, déguisés en Marguerite de Faust, a l’acte II de la pièce précitée (je vois encore leurs bonnets de dentelle, leur joues noires encadrées de magnifiques tresses blondes, et j’entends les cris horribles qu’ils poussaient) ; la jeune condamnée qu’on fait mourir a l’acte III, en l’exposant à l’un de ces affreux orages des régions tropicales, le front muni d’un long paratonnerre et les pieds chaussés de brodequins métalliques en communication avec le sol ; ce souverain sauvage qu’on vit longtemps sur des affiches, coiffé d’un gibus, porteur de manchettes impeccables qui faisaient un étonnant contraste avec ses oripeaux bigarrés, et des talons Wood-Milne fixés à cru sous ses pieds nus ; autant d’images à peine plus fantaisistes que les représentations qu’un Européen moyen peut se faire dans un pays exotique, ne voyant guère plus loin que Malikoko roi nègre, le succès du Châtelet, même s’il est cultivé, car alors sa culture européenne lui met des verres déformants dans l’esprit, il ne peut faire abstraction de ses tics et de ses manies purement locales, et tout ce qui vient des hommes d’autres climats et d’autres races, il le voit à travers sa mentalité blanche, c’est-à-dire, sans qu’il s’en rende compte, d’une manière entièrement fantasmagorique. » (M. Leiris – L’Œil de l’Ethnographe – A propos de la Mission Dakar-Djibouti)

Beckford 2004

2010-06-14T06:06:00.000-07:00

Luis de Freitas Branco’s Vathek, a symphonic poem written in 1913, is by far the most important work of its time in Portuguese music, with atonal approaches which were until then unknown. For instance there are two 12 tone chords, and tone clusters which, at the time, had not even been invented by the European avant garde. It is also a most beautiful work, modern yet deeply Romantic, alternately grandiose and delicate, with gorgeous atmospheric passages. The musical theme of Vathek is an authentic oriental melody, published in History of Music by August Wilhelm Ambros, Leipzig, 1862

Radetzky 2007

2010-06-07T13:06:00.000-07:00

Les enfants abyssins atteints de graphomanie ne charbonnent que sur des colonnes ou sur les portes des églises. Chaque fois qu’ils sont pris sur le fait ils sont battus, mais les parties basses des églises sont couvertes de leurs bizarres élucubrations (Bataille – L’Art Primitif)

Niepce 2009

2010-06-02T10:32:00.000-07:00

Già vivo al guardo la tua man pingea
un che in nebbia m'apparve all'intelletto:
altra or fugace e senza forme idea
timida accede all'alto tuo concetto:
lieto l'accoglie, e un immortal ne crea
di maraviglia e di pietade oggetto;
mentre aver sol potea dal verso mio
pochi giorni di spregio, e poi l'oblio.

(Alessandro Manzoni - Al Signor Francesco Hayez 1822)

Claudel 2008

2010-05-29T04:04:00.000-07:00

«Chez les hommes civilisés, la bouche a même perdu le caractère relativement proéminent qu’elle a encore chez les hommes sauvages. Toutefois, la signification violente de la bouche est conservée à l’état latent. Elle reprend tout à coup le dessus avec une expression littéralement cannibale comme bouche à feu, appliquée aux canons à l’aide desquels les hommes s’entre-tuent. (…) Il est facile d’observer à ce sujet qe l’individu bouleversé relève la tête en tendant le cou frénétiquement, en sorte que sa bouche vient se placer, autant qu’il est possible, dans le prolongement de la colonne vertébrale, c’est-à-dire dans la position qu’elle occupe normalement dans la constitution animale. Comme si des impulsions explosives devaient jaillir directement du corps par la bouche sous forme de vociférations. Ce fait met en relief à la fois l’importance de la bouche dans la physiologie ou même dans la psychologie animale et l’importance générale de l’extrémité supérieure ou antérieure du corps, orifice des impulsions physiques profondes : on voit en même temps qu’un homme peut libérer ces impulsions au moins de deux façons différents, dans le cerveau ou dans la bouche, mas a peine ces impulsions deviennent violentes qu’il est obligé de recourir à la façon bestiale de les libérer. D’où le caractère de constipation étroite d’une attitude strictement humaine, l’aspect magistral de la face bouche close, belle comme un coffre-fort. » (G. Bataille – la Bouche)

Jannequin 2008

2010-05-27T12:43:00.000-07:00

"Ne pas savoir quoi faire de sa peau”, magnifique expression populaire qui dit bien tout l’ennui, et contient déjà, pour qui sait la comprendre, plus qu’une simple suggestion quant a la manière d’y remédier! Le primitif qui se fait tatouer sur le corps les signes qui le mettent en relation magique avec diverses parties de l’Univers, celui dont tout la peau devient un arsenal de cicatrices, boursouflures, scarifications, brulures, etc… par religion (s’il s’agit d’un soi-disant sauvage) ou bien que par vice (s’il s’agit d’un civilisé, amateur, comme on dit, “de sensations rares”), ne font que céder obscurement à un besoin d’accroitre ce qu’ils ont en eux de plus humain» (Michel Leiris in l’Homme et son Intérieur)

Maritain 2007

2010-05-26T07:55:00.000-07:00

Be as ironical as you like about Theosophy, yet since, as nothing in the universe can help as truly to prove anything whatever, and consequently to demonstrate the falsity of a religious belief, silence is best. Believe who can, that is all that can be said. Faith is impervious to all criticism. To believe is to feel there is an absolute, and he who believes knows. It is a question of Grace. The Jansenists were right. That is why on Sundays I often turn my 5 h.p. in the direction of Port-Royal-des-Champs (the high plateau of which serve as an aerodrome for the Farman Company), in the vague hope of somehow finding faith, or, failing which, its illusion, among the wings that float about the sky, miraculously almost. (Ozenfant – The Foudations of Modern Art, p.177)

Blixen 2008

2010-05-25T07:32:00.000-07:00

"Hommes, soyez humains, c'est votre premier devoir; soyez-le pour tous les états, pour tous les âges, pour tout ce qui n'est pas étranger à l'homme. Quelle sagesse y a-t-il pour vous hors de l'humanité? Aimez l'enfance, favorisez ses jeux, ses plaisirs, son aimable instinct. Qui de vous n'a pas regretté quelquefois cet âge où le rire est toujours sur les lèvres, et où l'âme est toujours en paix?" (J-J. Rousseau - Émile - Livre II)

Abbado 2009

2010-05-24T03:54:00.000-07:00

O Wildermann ruivo em rotação com uma grande moca e sob um céu de tonalidades esverdeadas combate um lobo após ter despachado o autor da pintura sob a forma de Urso. Os genitais são garras.

Aiglemont 2009

2010-05-22T11:18:00.000-07:00

“Up until now, history has accorded the classification and illustration to George Shaw and his Naturalist’s Miscellany (1799). A naturalist of some standing with experience in classifying the other Monotreme, the echidna, he classified the ‘water mole’ as Platypus anatinus—the duck billed platypus. The two splendid coloured plates by Frederick Nodder together with their English and Latin descriptions gave the animal important authenticity in a society where clever hoaxes were well known. It sparked a debate between the creationists and evolutionists about how the animal fitted into the various classification schemes of the day. Enter Sir Joseph Banks and Johann Blumenbach. It would seem that Banks gave his German colleague, a distinguished naturalist and comparative anatomist, a specimen in 1799. The following year Blumenbach published in his Abbildungen naturhistorischer Gegenstande (v. 5, no. 41) a description and plate of the platypus naming it—Ornithorhynchus paradoxus or Das Schnabelthier. From here the taxonomic and bibliographic plots thicken. In 1798 the Verlag des Landes-Industrie Comptoirs began a lavish publication—a children’s illustrated encyclopedia essentially of natural history, in 237 parts. It was to include 1186 handcoloured engraved plates of high quality with short descriptions in German and French, eventually bound into 12 volumes. It was one of the first and finest German picture books for children following in the tradition of Comenius’s Orbis pictis. There in 1798, specifically no.80, v.3, appeared two illustrations and a description of Das Schnabelthier (Ornithorhynchus paradoxus)—exactly the same classification which was puzzling the world and as issued by Blumenbach a couple of years later. Harry Burrell in his definitive work The Platypus (1927) gives a tantalising clue. Banks sent a platypus specimen to Blumenbach as early as 1796. With Blumenbach working in Germany it wouldn’t have been difficult for him to give Bertuch in Weimar information about this strange creature if he had received a specimen that early. But why publish it in a children’s magazine?” (V. Horky – Platypus Paradoxes)

Cendrars 2009

2010-05-20T05:43:00.000-07:00

E se descobrirmos a liberdade, igualdade e a fraternidade, não como um fim mas como uma possibilidade negociável com o quotidiano-máquina, como experiências realizadas em fragmentos generosos e que se fundem num todo imaginário? E se pensar a História do mundo como um corpo ou corpos de estados múltiplos subjugados ao inferos das pulsões sexuais? Isolado e colectivo; presa do egoísmo de quem é só e revoltado no destino dos irmãos. Nego aqui uma estrutura predeterminada para reivindicar o que a filosofia do século XVII me prometeu a mim, quando a descobri; que prometeu a quem pensou e não pensou: - O direito neste lugar, aqui, à felicidade.

Arendt 2009

2010-05-19T05:13:00.000-07:00

Caliban: Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises,
Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears; and sometime voices
That, if I then had waked after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again; and then in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open, and show riches
Ready to drop upon me, that when I waked
I cried to dream again. (Shakespeare - The Tempest)

Siedmark 2009

2010-05-18T05:36:00.000-07:00

“Encontro-me numa capital germânica e resido num hotel da moda, provido de todas as engenhosidades do conforto. Porém, este hotel tem como nome Zum Wildermann; e, como insígnia, um monstro hirsuto, coberto de bravia folhagem, com uma grande pedra na mão, e na outra uma moca ou albarda” (Eugénio d’Ors – O “Wildermann”)

Chateaubriand 2009

2010-05-17T13:01:00.000-07:00

« Jamais l’homme, dans aucune des compositions de Piero ne sera représenté dans une attitude admirable ou même sympathique – le combat que se livrent les Lapithes et les Centaures pourrait bien se terminer à l’avantage de ces derniers – et, s’il est victorieux, une seule fois (la Forêt en Feu), c’est au prix d’une lutte déloyale, à la faveur de ruses assez méprisables comme l’incendie d’une forêt afin de terrifier les animaux ; souvent aussi, il est parfaitement ridicule : lorsqu’un des chasseurs (La Chasse) attrape par la queue le roi des bêtes, je ne crois pas que cette position soit singulièrement héroïque. (…) Les monstres de Piero di Cosimo, j’entends les satyres et les centaures, ne peuvent à aucun prix être considérés comme des sujets de circonstance. Lorsqu’aucune scène mythologique ne peut en justifier l’emploi, Piero les emprunte encore pour illustrer des compositions parfaitement originales (La Chasse, Le Retour de la Chasse, La Forêt en Feu). Et, étroitement mêles aux hommes, ces monstres, faisant preuve d’une grande séduction (il n’est pas rare de voir une femme donner à un centaure les témoignages d’un amour violent (Retour de la Chasse), ou Hylonome, la plus belle fille des Centaures, étreindre et embrasser avec désespoir un Lapithe mourant), inventés pour des fins particulières, au même titre que ces bêtes à têtes humaines (qui devaient exister par exception, comme des écarts de la nature : c’est pourquoi dans La Forêt de Feu, deux seulement surgissent parmi les autres animaux qui cherchent à s’enfuir), apparaissent alors comme le témoignage, chez Piero di Cosimo, d’un phénomène de participation ou d’un esprit de révolte. (…) Révolte qui se manifestera dans la première œuvre de Piero di Cosimo sous une forme scandaleuse. Comme s’il avait voulu donner un sens négatif au tableau de La Vierge entourée de plusieurs Saints qu’on lui commande, Piero représente sur la prédelle la scéne étonnante de Sainte- Marguerite sortant du ventre d’un dragon. Par les trois épisodes de la vie de l’homme primitif (La Chasse, Le Retour de la Chasse, La Forêt en Feu) Piero, dont on connaît déjà le goût pour le monstrueux, révèle cette fois sa préférence pour les créatures sauvages, pour l’époque où la civilisation ne signifiait rien, sinon les rapports magiques de l’homme avec la nature ; et, à la fin de sa vie, para la mise en scène du Triomphe de la Mort, il tourne en ridicule l’état que, par terreur, les hommes n’osent pas ne pas respecter : la Mort. Dans ce défilé grotesque, où les morts font figure de victimes, éclate la manifestation de sa révolte non seulement contre la vie, la civilisation et l’au-delà, mais contre tout ce qui constitue les mouvements essentiels, mais dérisoires de l’homme. » (Georgette Camille – Piero di Cosimo)

Brandão 2006

2010-05-16T13:56:00.000-07:00

“Outrora, nos dias de trovoada, as criadas de minha casa, gritavam por São Jerónimo, ao fuzilar de cada relâmpago. Aqueles gritos desenhavam-me a figura do Santo, num instantâneo clarão vermelho, em fundo negro de ribombo cavernoso. Essa figura lívida ficou-me, na memória, com uma nuvem que pairou, sinistra e cor de bronze, nos fraguedos do Marão; a serra das trovoadas e de São Jerónimo e de outros santos e santas da tempestade. Já decorreram mais de cinquenta anos, um número que, acrescentado de dois zeros, atiraria comigo para lá dos reis da babilónia e dos Faraós do Egipto. Viajo através do tempo.” (Teixeira de Pascoaes – S. Jerónimo e a Trovoada)

Arp 2005

2010-05-15T17:07:00.000-07:00

« Le sujet de la pièce est très simple : le paquebot Lyncée fait naufrage sur les côtes de l’Afrique tropicale ; accueillis généreusement par le souverain du pays, alors en lutte contre une tribu ennemie, les passagers, parmi lesquels se trouvent les membres d’une grande troupe de phénomènes genre Barnum, préparent une série d’attractions pour les fêtes du couronnement, qui aura lieu lorsque l’empereur du Ponukélé, leur hôte, aura annexé le royaume du Drelschkaff son rival. Au dernier acte on verra ce souverain, Talou VII, revêtu d’un manteau de gala représentant une carte d’Afrique, présider la cérémonie du sacre, qui se deroule sur la grande place de sa capitale, Ejur, entourée pour la circonstance de palissades dont chaque pieu supporte une tête coupée. Auparavant, le spectateur aura assisté aux répétitions de tous les numéros préparés par les passagers, à l’exhibition de tous les phénomènes, ainsi qu’a quelques intrigues de cour et différents supplices, d’une cruauté plus que raffinée, infligés à une poignée de traitres.

Parmi les inventions présentées, figure la fameuse « statue en baleines de corset roulant sur de rails en mou de veau » qui longtemps défraya la chronique et, parmi les tortures, celle qui consiste à graver au fer rouge, sur la plante des pieds d’un faussaire, le exte entier du document incriminé.

Outre ce qu’il y a d’absolument génial dans de telles constructions poétiques, l’œuvre de Raymond Roussel – sans que l’auteur l’ait sciemment cherché – offre le double intérêt de présenter : d’une part une Afrique telle, à peu de chose prés, que nous pouvions la concevoir dans notre imagination d’enfants blancs, d’autre part, une Europe de phénomènes et d’inventions abracadabrantes telle que peut-être elle se trouve figurée dans l’esprit de ceux que nous nommons avec dédain des « primitifs » (M. Leiris – L’Œil de l’Ethnographe – A propos de la Mission Dakar-Djibouti)

Thiers 2009

2010-05-14T04:05:00.000-07:00

« Si le pirate Blanc apprend qu’une Cléopâtre noire vient d’avaler une perle, il fait venir la reine et, bien qu’il ait interdit aux religions les sacrifices sanglantes, il lui ouvre le ventre pour retirer l’objet précieux de ses entrailles fumantes » (Georges Limbour – Eschyle, le Carnaval et les Civilisés)

Bataille 2009

2010-05-13T05:05:00.000-07:00

A Rainha de Saba visita Salomão em Jerusalém. (Ver a lenda incluindo a Serpente-Rei e Agabos) A Rainha de Sabá ao visitar o esqueleto da serpente que o seu pai (Agabos) matou é picada no pé por um osso. Um servo limpa-lhe a ferida.

A rainha durante a viagem é protegida por um dai vermelho (baldaquino) símbolo de autoridade suprema. O Copo de Água.

Kathleen Ferrier 2006

2010-05-12T16:51:00.000-07:00

« Six carrosses couvertes de drap rouge, occupés chacun par un porc vivant, sont placées sur le sommet de la montagne. Derrière les chars sont attachés les treize taureaux. Les divertissements finis, la foule se presse haletante, attend, s’impatiente.

Tout finit en un instant. Les carrosses dégringolent la montagne « se précipitent avec un tel ravage qu’il semble que le monde entier le subit » (li sei carozzi erano lassate andare giù del monte con tanta ruina che pareva ch’el mondo subissasse).

En même temps s’élancent les taureaux, excités par la colleur rouge des carrosses. Aveuglés de fureur, ils bondissent derrière, se jettent dans le vide, puis s’écrasent sur un rocher, en se mêlant aux débris des porcs et des carrosses qui les ont précédés. En un clin d’œil mille lances s’enfoncent dans cette masse saignante, «dans une montagne de jambes en l’air». (un monte con le gambe alla roverse). (Zdenko Reich – Le Massacre des Porcs)

Reynaud 2004

2010-05-01T15:18:00.000-07:00

A TOUS LES FRANÇAIS

« La France a perdu une bataille !

Mais la France n’a pas perdu la guerre !

Des gouvernements de rencontre ont pu capituler, cédant à la panique, oubliant l’honneur, livrant le pays à la servitude. Cependant, rien n’est perdu !

Rien n’est perdu, parce que cette guerre est une guerre mondiale. Dans l’univers libre, des forces immenses n’ont pas encore donné. Un jour ces forces écraseront l’ennemi. Il faut que la France, ce jour-la, soit présente à la victoire. Alors, elle retrouvera sa liberté et sa grandeur. Tel est mon but, mon seul but !

Voila pourquoi je convie tous les Français, où qu’ils se trouvent, à s’unir à moi dans l’action, dans le sacrifice et dans l’espérance.

Notre patrie est en peril de mort.

Luttons tous pour la sauver !

VIVE LA FRANCE

(De Gaulle)

Enkidu 2008

2010-04-30T01:00:00.000-07:00

'I used to pretend I was someone quite mysterious and fascinating. Then I grew up and realized I was mysterious and fascinating' --Sally Bowles (in Cabaret)

Walser 2009

2010-04-27T14:47:00.000-07:00

26. Great is the power of memory. It is a true marvel, O my God, a profound and infinite multiplicity! And this is the mind, and this I myself am. What, then, am I, O my God? Of what nature am I? A life various, and manifold, and exceedingly vast. Behold in the numberless halls and caves, in the innumerable fields and dens and caverns of my memory, full without measure of numberless kinds of things--present there either through images as all bodies are; or present in the things themselves as are our thoughts; or by some notion or observation as our emotions are, which the memory retains even though the mind feels them no longer, as long as whatever is in the memory is also in the mind--through all these I run and fly to and fro. I penetrate into them on this side and that as far as I can and yet there is nowhere any end.

So great is the power of memory, so great the power of life in man whose life is mortal! What, then, shall I do, O thou my true life, my God? I will pass even beyond this power of mine that is called memory--I will pass beyond it, that I may come to thee, O lovely Light. And what art thou saying to me? See, I soar by my mind toward thee, who remainest above me. I will also pass beyond this power of mine that is called memory, desiring to reach thee where thou canst be reached, and wishing to cleave to thee where it is possible to cleave to thee. For even beasts and birds possess memory, or else they could never find their lairs and nests again, nor display many other things they know and do by habit. Indeed, they could not even form their habits except by their memories. I will therefore pass even beyond memory that I may reach Him who has differentiated me from the four-footed beasts and the fowls of the air by making me a wiser creature. Thus I will pass beyond memory; but where shall I find thee, who art the true Good and the steadfast Sweetness? But where shall I find thee? If I find thee without memory, then I shall have no memory of thee; and how could I find thee at all, if I do not remember thee? - Saint Augustine Confessions

Baffin 2007

2010-04-26T14:30:00.000-07:00

6th.—Have been beset all day by natives. They pull the blossoms of the red gum tree (now in flower), steep them in water, and drink the water, which acquires a taste like sugar and water by this process. Some came here, bringing a young kangaroo dog of a fine breed. I had often (in my own mind) contemplated poisoning him. To my surprise, the natives called my attention suddenly to the dog, when I saw that some one had been beforehand with me. I told them all manner of stories about our dogs going mad, and that their bite was then fatal. They were greatly alarmed. I put my hand cautiously over his mouth, put him into the boat, and carried him to the other side of the river, where he soon died. They thought a snake had bit him. In the evening, there was a crying of natives at a distance. I ran with Weeip and some others to see. A number of strangers had arrived; the child of one had died, and they must have some spearing match about it. I begged them not to throw spears, but it appeared to be a very friendly or ceremonious transaction—some spears having been thrown harmlessly. After a little, it was mentioned to the owner of the dog that it had died—that his dog was dead by the bite of a snake. He had not been at my place before during the day, and had not heard of it till then. Instantly, there was a change of scene—he and his brother seized their spears, and seemed about to commence in good earnest, when others threw their arms round them and held them with difficulty. Angry feeling seemed to spread among them: the vengeance of these two seemed directed against a woman, whose husband was held also. When I left them, one of the natives was walking round and round this woman, while two had placed themselves on either side of her, and walked round in a circle, so as to keep one still between his spear and her. It was a strange sight. I asked Weeip what it meant. He said the owner was a little angry, and he would only spear her a little on the lower part of the leg. I have heard their voices very loud ever since. They will have troubled rest. All parties seemed to look upon me as a friend—though I confess I felt a little afraid at one time when they began to pronounce my name with great vehemence; it was in asserting that I had seen the dog die of snake bite. I held Mauli for a while, when he first snatched his spear, till another came to the rescue. One part of the scene was singular—the mother of the child that had died clung to the knees of one old man and uttered a long weeping recitative, while he stood apparently unmoved; at other times she threw herself on the bosom of another and wept out the same sort of droning song, which, from some detached words I caught, reminds me of the Irish keen, as a sort of address to the departed. It is ringing in my ears even now, while I write, at the distance of half a mile from them. - Diary of ten years eventful life of an early settler in Western Australia by George Fletcher Moore

Lash 2008

2010-04-25T05:03:00.001-07:00

I've been out walking
I don't do too much talking
These days, these days.
These days I seem to think a lot
About the things that I forgot to do
And all the times I had the chance to (Nico)

Auerbach 2008

2010-04-23T07:26:00.000-07:00

Ein echter deutscher Mann mag keinen Franzen leiden,
Doch ihre Weine trinkt er gern. - Mephisto (Goethe Faust I. Teil)

Rousseau 2008

2010-04-22T16:07:00.001-07:00

Villard de Honnecourt, in his 1230s sketchbook, show plans for animal automata and an angel that perpetually turns to face the sun.

Klossowski 2006

2010-04-22T03:50:00.000-07:00

“il est delicieux, dans une infinite solitude au bord de la mer, sous un ciel brouillé, de porter son regard dans un désert d’eau sans limites. Encore faut-il être là-bas, et être devenu, alors que l’on voudrait passer de l’autre côté et qu’on ne ele peut pás, que lón est depourvu de tout pour vivre et que l’on perçoit neanmois la voix de cette vie dans les grondements des flots, le souffle de l’air, le passage dês nuages, le cri solitaire des oiseaux. Mais il faut pour cela une exigence de coeur, et cette dechirure, au plus profond de soi, que provoque la nature (…) Oui, si l’on peignait ce paysage avec se propre craie, avec sa propre eau, on pourrait, je crois, par la, pousser les renards et les loups à hurler.” Kleist, sur Caspar David Friedrich

Dias Loureiro 2008

2010-04-21T07:26:00.000-07:00

"Não tenho culpa de ter nascido em Portugal, e exijo uma Pátria que me mereça" - Almada

Klopstock 2008

2010-04-07T19:11:00.000-07:00

It is quite untrue that British people don't appreciate music. They may not understand it but they absolutely love the noise it makes. - Sir Thomas Beecham

Rothenberger 2007

2009-07-25T19:15:00.000-07:00

Beecham helped Walter Legge underwrite the creation of the Philarmonia Orchestra, and conducted its premiere concert on 25 October, 1945. Later, Legge raised the matter of Beecham's fee, to which he replied: "The privilege of directing this magnificent consort of artists is such that my pleasure would be diminished if I accepted a fee. I would, however, gladly accept a decent cigar"

Jurinac 2007

2009-07-14T19:20:00.000-07:00

I have always enjoyed dealing with a slightly surrealistic situation and presenting it in a realistic manner. I've always liked fairy tales and myths, magical stories. I think they are somehow closer to the sense of reality one feels today than the equally stylized "realistic" story in which a great deal of selectivity and omission has to occur in order to preserve its "realist" style. - Stanley Kubrick

Koeman 2008

2009-07-08T19:10:00.000-07:00

Magic is not science, it is a collection of ways to do things — ways that work but often we don't know why.

~ Robert A. Heinlein ~
in Glory Road

Björn Andrésen 2008

2009-07-07T19:21:00.000-07:00

The demons are innumerable, arrive at the most inappropriate times and create panic and terror... but I have learned that if I can master the negative forces and harness them to my chariot, then they can work to my advantage.... Lilies often grow out of carcasses' arseholes.- Ingmar Bergman

McNamara 2009

2009-07-06T16:31:00.000-07:00

The Natural History Museum is open to the public on Tuesdays and Fridays. Elephant, rhinoceros, hippopotamus; extraordinary animals! Rubens rendered them marvellously. I had a feeling of happiness as soon as I entered the place and the further I went the stronger it grew. I felt my whole being rise above commonplaces and trivialities and the petty worries of my daily life.- Delacroix (diário)

Hinojosa 2008

2009-07-04T16:30:00.000-07:00

La vida es ciervo herido,
que las flechas le dan alas.
- Luis de Gongora

Bausch 2008

2009-06-30T16:21:00.000-07:00

Chi non sa che senza le donne sentir non si po contento o satisfazione alcuna in tutta questa nostra vita, la quale senza esse saria rustica e priva d'ogni dolcezza e piú aspera che quella dell'alpestre fiere? Chi non sa che le donne sole levano de' nostri cori tutti li vili e bassi pensieri, gli affanni, le miserie e quelle turbide tristezze che cosí spesso loro sono compagne? - Baldessare Castiglione

Chaumette 2008

2009-06-29T16:18:00.000-07:00

Le coeur a ses raisons, que la raison ne connaît point. On le sent en mille choses. C'est le cœur qui sent Dieu, et non la raison. Voilà ce que c'est que la foi parfaite, Dieu sensible au cœur. - Pascal

Stamitz 2004

2009-06-12T16:17:00.000-07:00

If you are serious about your religion, if you really wist to commit yourself to the spiritual quest, you must learn how to use psychochemicals. Drugs are the religion of the twenty-first century. Pursuing the religious life today without using psychedelic drugs is like studying astronomy with the naked eye because that's how they did it in the first century A.D., and besides telescopes are unnatural.- Timothy Leary

Cotman 2008

2009-06-11T16:10:00.000-07:00

There is nothing ugly; I never saw an ugly thing in my life: for let the form of an object be what it may, — light, shade, and perspective will always make it beautiful.

~ John Constable ~

Mompou 2008

2009-06-06T11:47:00.000-07:00

Dada est notre intensité ; qui érige les baïonnettes sans conséquence la tête Sumatrale du bébé allemand ; Dada est l'art sans pantoufles ni parallèles ; qui est contre et pour l'unité et décidément contre le futur ; nous savons sagement que nos cerveaux deviendront des coussins douillets que notre anti-dogmatisme est aussi exclusivité que le fonctionnaire que nous ne sommes pas libres et que nous crions liberté Nécessité sévère sans discipline ni morale et crachons sur l'humanité. Dada reste dans le cadre européen des faiblesses, c'est tout de même de la merde, mais nous voulons désormais chier en couleurs diverses, pour orner les jardins zoologiques de l'art, de tous les drapeaux des consulats do do bong hiho aho hiho aho.

La Première aventure céleste de Monsieur Antipyrine - Tristan Tzara (1916)

Barr 2008

2009-06-03T15:06:00.001-07:00

Serenely full, the epicure would say, Fate cannot harm me, I have dined today. - Sidney Smith

Haydn 2009

2009-05-31T01:01:00.000-07:00

- Children be comforted, I am well.
(Haydn's last words were said to his house servants, at 31st May, 1809, during a dreadful bombardment as Napoleon's troops layed siege upon Vienna.)

Agrippa 2009

2009-05-29T17:30:00.000-07:00

Tu quoque, Brute! sive Etiam tu, mi fili Bruti! sive Kai sy, teknon! sive Ara kai sy, teknon!

- Gaio Júlio César

Cortez 2004

2009-05-28T11:28:00.000-07:00

"Tlalticpac toquichtin ties" (del náhuatl, "La tierra será como sean los hombres") - provérbio mexicano

Widor 2004

2009-05-27T11:06:00.000-07:00

Source: Will Durant, The Story of Philosophy: The Lives and Opinions of the World's Greatest Philosophers (1926) [Simon & Schuster/Pocket Books, 1991, ISBN 0-671-73916-6] Ch. II: Aristotle and Greek Science; part VII: Ethics and the Nature of Happiness: "Excellence is an art won by training and habituation: we do not act rightly because we have virtue or excellence, but we rather have these because we have acted rightly; 'these virtues are formed in man by his doing the actions'; we are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act but a habit: 'the good of man is a working of the soul in the way of excellence in a complete life... for as it is not one swallow or one fine day that makes a spring, so it is not one day or a short time that makes a man blessed and happy'" (p. 76). The quoted phrases within the quotation are from the Nicomachean Ethics, Book II, 4; Book I, 7. The misattribution is from taking Durant's summation of Aristotle's ideas as being the words of Aristotle himself.

Karl Buchholz 2004

2009-05-26T18:11:00.000-07:00

A Livraria Buchholz, lugar de referência do nosso (pequeno) universo cultural
encontra-se em situação de pré-falência. Agradece-se a todos quantos a
frequentaram que a voltem a visitar, de vez em quando. Comprar um livro que não
se encontra em mais lado nenhum pode, eventualmente, ajudar a reerguê-la.
Agradece-se que passem esta informação aos amigos e interessados. A Buchholz é uma livraria com história.
Foi fundada em 1943 pelo livreiro alemão Karl Buchholz,que deixou Berlim depois
da sua galeria de arte e livraria terem sido destruídas pelos bombardeamentos.
A actividade de Buchholz era incompatível com o regime de Berlim, nomeadamente a
venda de autores considerados proscritos, como Thomas Mann.
No entanto, a relação de Buchholz com o regime era algo dúbia pois tanto
compactuava em manobras de propaganda alemã como salvava da fogueira obras de
Picasso e Braque,condenadas pela fúria nazi.
No início, a livraria estava situada em Lisboa na Av. da Liberdade e só em 1965
se instalou na R. Duque de Palmela.
O interior foi projectado pelo próprio livreiro ao estilo das livrarias da sua
terra natal. O espaço estende-se por três andares unidos por uma escada de
caracol, com recantos e sofás que proporcionam uma intimidade dos leitores com
os livros.
A madeira das escadas, chão e estantes torna o espaço acolhedor e agradável.
Durante os anos 60, a tertúlia artística lisboeta - entre eles, Escada, Noronha
da Costa, Eduardo Nery e Malangatana - passou pela cave da Buchholz, que
funcionou como galeria até 1974.
Hoje, a galeria continua a ser uma referência cultural com um público fiel que
preza o espaço de convívio que a livraria sugere. A selecção dos títulos é vasta
e inclui várias áreas: artes, ciência, humanidades, literatura portuguesa e
estrangeira, livros técnicos e infantis, na cave funciona uma secção de música
clássica e etnográfica. Apesar de não ser especializada em nenhuma área, a
secção dedicada à ciência política é frequentada por muitos políticos da nossa
praça.
A Buchholz acolhe ainda eventos especiais como lançamentos de livros, sessões de
leitura, e o "Domingo Especial" que são os saldos anuais da livraria, uma vez
por ano, no último domingo de Novembro.
Na Buchholz on-line pode percorrer as estantes da livraria sem sair de casa e
ainda encomendar livros nacionais e alguns estrangeiros.
TELEFONE: 213170580
LOCAL: Lisboa, R. Duque de Palmela, 4
HORÁRIOS: Segunda a sábado das 09h00 às 18h00 (encerra sáb. às 13h).

Von Weichs 2008

2009-05-25T18:43:00.000-07:00

We the undersigned, acting by authority of the German High Command, hereby surrender unconditionally to the Supreme Commander, Allied Expeditionary Force and simultaneously to the Soviet High Command all forces on land, sea, and in the air who are at this date under German control.
2) The German High Command will at once issue orders to all German military, naval and air authorities and to all forces under German control to cease active operations at 2301 hours Central European time on 8 May and to remain in the positions occupied at that time. No ship, vessel, or aircraft is to be scuttled, or any damage done to their hull, machinery or equipment.
3) The German High Command will at once issue to the appropriate commanders, and ensure the carrying out of any further orders issued by the Supreme Commander, Allied Expeditionary Force and by the Soviet High Command.
4) This act of military surrender is without prejudice to, and will be superseded by any general instrument of surrender imposed by, or on behalf of the United Nations and applicable to Germany and the German armed forces as a whole.[ 2 ]
5) In the event of the German High Command or any of the forces under their control failing to act in accordance with this Act of Surrender, the Supreme Commander, Allied Expeditionary Force and the Soviet High Command will take such punitive or other action as they deem appropriate. (The German Surrender Act - 1945)

Al-Muthamid 2008

2009-05-23T18:54:00.000-07:00

Carles li reis nostre empe magnes
Set anz tuz pleins ad estet en espaigne
Tresquen la mer cunquist la tere altaigne.
Ni ad castel ki devant lui remaigne
Mur ne citet ni est remes a fraindre
Fors sarraguce ki est en une muntaigne.
Li reis marsilie la tient ki deu nen aimet
Mahumet sert e apollin recleimet
Nes poet guarder que mals ne li ateignet.

Li reis marsilie esteit en sarraguce.
Alez en ÷ en un verger suz lumbre
Sur un perrun de marbre bloi se culchet
Envirun lui plus de vint milie humes.
Il en apelet e ses dux e ses cuntes
Oez seignurs quel pecchet nus encumbret
Li empe carles de france dulce
En cest pais nos est venuz cunfundre.
Jo nen ai ost qui bataille li dunne
Ne nai tel gent ki la sue derumpet.
Cunseilez mei cume mi savie hume
Si me guarisez e de mort et de hunte.
Ni ad paien ki un sul mot respundet
Fors blancandrins de castel de valfunde.

(Le Chanson de Roland)

Ming, the Merciless 2008

2009-05-18T13:19:00.000-07:00

En la película, el papel protagonista es el de Rodrigo Díaz de Vivar, interpretado por Charlton Heston; su prometida doña Jimena es Sofía Loren; el Conde Ordóñez es Raf Vallone; Urraca, la hermana de Alfonso VI, es Geneviève Page; el rey Alfonso VI de León es John Fraser; Hurd Hatfield es Arias; Massimo Serato es Fáñez, sobrino de Rodrigo; Frank Thring es Al Kadir, rey de Valencia; Michael Hordern es Don Diego, el padre de Rodrigo; Andrew Cruickshank es el Conde Gormaz; Douglas Wilmer es el rey de Zaragoza, Al-Mutamin; Tullio Carminati es Al Jarifi; Gary Raymond es el Príncipe Sancho; y Herbert Lom es Ben Yussuf.

Herzl 2004

2009-05-17T19:06:00.000-07:00

« La vraie philosophie se moque de la philosophie ». Avec Deleuze l'assertion de Pascal prend une dimension nouvelle : la vraie philosophie n'aime pas la philosophie. Ou plutôt le vrai philosophe n'aime pas philosopher. Non pas que le philosophe supplante sa discipline pour devenir un Penseur qui n'a que faire des carcans philosophiques, comme voulait le dire Pascal, mais avec Deleuze le philosophe souffre de philosopher. Ni au-delà, ni en deçà, mais de manière frontale le philosophe deleuzien en découd et s'affronte pour connaître la vérité. Plus « anti-sophique » que « philo-sophique », sa démarche n'est plus celle d'un amoureux du savoir, ni même celle du philosophe de Pascal qui s'ignore, mais celle d'un penseur malgré lui. La Recherche atteste que toute vérité est vérité du temps. Faire œuvre de philosophie chez Proust, revient à y passer sa vie. La patience, le temps qui s'écoule, et la vérité qui prend forme avec une extrême lenteur : l'œuvre colossale de Proust est de la dimension d'une vie entière. Toute une vie pour, à son accomplissement, comprendre le sens de l'écoulement du temps. Bien ingrate démarche. Philosophie : amour de la sagesse, ami du savoir. Proust oppose au binôme philosophie/amitié le couple art/amour. Il fait un parallèle entre l'amitié et la philosophie, qui réside dans la complaisance. Une amitié de complaisance c'est-à-dire une communauté topique d'intérêts, une direction convenue en bonne intelligence. Un sens commun. De même que la philosophie, en tant qu'amie de la sagesse, ne peut que connaître une sagesse amicale, au détriment d'une vérité hostile. Ainsi « la philosophie comme l'amitié ignore les zones obscures où s'élaborent les forces effectives qui agissent sur la pensée, les déterminations qui nous "forcent" à penser2 ». Plus important que la pensée, il y a ce qui donne à penser. Plus important qu'Israël, il y a le sentiment Israël. Sans le vouloir, en luttant même contre parfois, s'est imposé à Herzl le sentiment Israël. L'amour de la philosophie chez Deleuze s'apparente plus au sentiment amoureux passionnel et destructeur, qu'à l'amour en tant que bonne disposition pour la sagesse, ou discipline de prédilection. « Le leitmotiv du Temps retrouvé c'est le mot "forcer" ; des impressions qui nous forcent à regarder, des rencontres qui nous forcent à interpréter, des expressions qui nous forcent à penser3 ». Swann subit ces réminiscences, il n'est pas libre de les choisir, elles lui sont données telles quelles. Ce qui donne à penser ce sont les signes. Les signes qui additionnés forment le faisceau d'indices, le dessin fumigène de la vérité. Et le signe procède d'une rencontre fortuite, et non désirée pour le cas de Herzl. Le sens, enclos dans le signe, éclos dans l'Idée. C'est la jalousie qui pousse Swann à découvrir, au hasard d'une impression, la vérité qu'il redoute, et non pas l'amour de cette vérité. Le philosophe pré-deleuzien traque la vérité. Le philosophe de Deleuze, lui, est un chasseur à l'affût ; il attend le signe, l'opportunité, mais ne cherche pas en amont ce qu'il découvre en aval. Avant Deleuze, la philosophie s'entendait d'un raisonnement a priori : « en philosophie, l'intelligence vient toujours avant ». Or, au contraire « le propre des signes, c'est qu'ils font appel à l'intelligence en tant qu'elle vient après ».

Gyslain Di Caro in Theodor Herzl sur le divan de Gilles Deleuze

Ahmed Riza 2008

2009-04-29T08:43:00.000-07:00

In regards to nationalism, the Young Turks underwent a gradual transformation. Beginning with the Tanzimat with non-Turkish members participating at the outset, the Young Turks embraced the official state ideology - Ottomanism. However, Ottoman patriotism failed to strike root during the first constitutional era and the following years. Many non-Turkish Ottoman intellectuals rejected the idea because of its exclusive use of Turkish symbols. Turkish nationalists gradually gained the upper hand in politics, and following the 1902 Congress, a stronger focus on nationalism developed. It was at this time that Ahmed Riza chose to replace the term "Ottoman" with "Turk". However, it was not until 1904 that nationalism came to be based on a scientific theory, and following the Japanese victory over Russia, the Young Turks began to base their nationalism on the pseudo-scientific race theories of Europe.

Davout 2004

2009-04-28T08:02:00.000-07:00

I picked up a Polaroid camera for $1 at a garage sale thinking I could add a pinhole and have a pinholaroid. I didn’t find any good online tutorials, and feeling confident after building my Digital Pinhole Camera, I decided to figure it out as I went. Keep reading to learn how to turn a cheap Polaroid camera into a cheap polaroid pinhole camera…

Tricomalee 2009

2009-04-27T19:34:00.000-07:00

04/24/2009 :: 02:59:41 PM

Barb Says:

Does any one know if it’s true that Perry Smith left everything he owned to Truman Capote when he was executed for his part in murdering the Clutter family? If so,does any one know what happened to it all or is there a Truman Capote museum any where that would have any of this on display?

Sisley 2008

2009-04-27T19:30:00.000-07:00

"What about the black line?" cried the American, triumphantly pushing back a wisp of hair which nearly fell in his soup. "You don't see a black line round objects in nature."
"Oh, God, send down fire from heaven to consume the blasphemer," said Lawson. "What has nature got to do with it? No one knows what's in nature and what isn't! The world sees nature through the eyes of the artist. Why, for centuries it saw horses jumping a fence with all their legs extended, and by Heaven, sir, they were extended. It saw shadows black until Monet discovered they were coloured, and by Heaven, sir, they were black. If we choose to surround objects with a black line, the world will see the black line, and there will be a black line; and if we paint grass red and cows blue, it'll see them red and blue, and, by Heaven, they will be red and blue."
"To hell with art," murmured Flanagan. "I want to get ginny."
Lawson took no notice of the interruption.
"Now look here, when Olympia was shown at the Salon, Zola--amid the jeers of the Philistines and the hisses of the pompiers, the academicians, and the public, Zola said: `I look forward to the day when Manet's picture will hang in the Louvre opposite the Odalisque of Ingres, and it will not be the Odalisque which will gain by comparison.' It'll be there. Every day I see the time grow nearer. In ten years the Olympia will be in the Louvre."
"Never," shouted the American, using both hands now with a sudden desperate attempt to get his hair once for all out of the way. "In ten years that picture will be dead. It's only a fashion of the moment. No picture can live that hasn't got something which that picture misses by a million miles."
"And what is that?"
"Great art can't exist without a moral element."
"Oh God!" cried Lawson furiously. "I knew it was that. He wants morality." He joined his hands and held them towards heaven in supplication. "Oh, Christopher Columbus, Christopher Columbus, what did you do when you discovered America

W. Somerset Maughan - Of Human Bondage

Picollomini 2008

2009-04-09T19:58:00.000-07:00

Lorsque la guerre a éclaté, Zweig a fui. Malgré les demandes insistantes de nombreux contemporains, il a refusé de prendre parti ouvertement contre le nazisme : à part quelques textes ou conférences, il est resté silencieux. Il a cependant aidé certaines familles à s'échapper, par exemple en leur donnant de l'argent. Enfin, son suicide a été vu par certains comme une preuve de lâcheté et de désespoir, qu'en sa qualité d'homme public, il n'avait pas le droit de donner, d'autant que c'était une des personnes qui - en apparence tout du moins - souffrait le moins de la guerre, réfugié qu'il était en Angleterre puis au Brésil (sur ce dernier point voir la dernière pages des "Aspects de Stefan Zweig", intitulée "Réflexions" : ce qu'on dit certains de ses contemporains en apprenant son suicide.).

Sorolla 2008

2009-01-14T19:55:00.000-08:00

É um novo blog com início QUARTA-FEIRA, 14 DE JANEIRO DE 2009.
É colectivo e anónimo (seis pseudónimos), o que se percebe porque o quintal é muito pequeno e tem estado demasiado armadilhado. Não sei quem são e descobri-os por acaso.
O nome é estranho, ou mesmo algo preocupante: O INFINITO AO ESPELHO (vermo-nos ao espelho é monótono e limitado; e o finito pode ser ainda mais atraente) : por que não o finito à janela ? para usar a velha diferença entre mirrors and windows (John Szarkowski, 1978), ambos "concerned with the pursuit of beauty: that formal integrity which pays homage to the dream of meaningful life." (J.S.)
Espero que seja para continuar: http://infinitoaoespelho.blogspot.com/

in www.alexandrepomar.typepad.com

Dukakis 2004

2008-07-18T04:29:00.000-07:00

What was the New Yorker thinking with this cover? Are they so out-of-touch with mainstream Americans that they don't understand how easily their fears are roused about those they perceive as 'different' or 'exotic' (read: BLACK)? - Blog comment on New Yorker cover with Obama couple dressed as terrorists.

Zé Gato 2008

2008-07-12T03:14:00.000-07:00

Magistral comando, o daquelas pessoas que chefiaram a captura do CELÉ. O vocabulário ?!?!! Atentem !!!! Pá, é só disparos f.... o gajo está f...... e na pá p...p... pá, avança com a carrinha c..... cuidado, o gajo está a fugir f.... houve uma saraivada de balas, pergunta o magina pá, o gajo c...??? Mais uma saraivada de balas, pergunta o magina outra vez, pá o gajo c..... informen f..... como a resposta não vinha, lá pergunta o homem : pá, o gajo está ferido c.... ??? Mais uma saraivada de balas. Nova pergunta, c.... pessoal informem, c ...... então hove-se uma resposta : uma ambululância, temos um ferido. Pergunta o comando : quantos , quem ???? Como não veio resposta diz o homem, estes c .... não respondem f ..... Venham 3 ambulâncias rápido, aí umas três fala o superintendente, magina , que venham rápido. Por fim o homem tem a notícia : Está morto,. está morto, com 26 tiros !!!.... Perante isto pergunto eu, aquela gente que c.... estavam ali a fazer ???? Qual a M .... da cultura deles ???? todas aquelas palavras vem na M ..... Dos livros onde aprenderam a ser agentes ???? -

Grapilho - Comentário a: Sacavém: dois detidos em novo tiroteio na Quinta da Fonte (Público)

Sibelius 2008

2008-07-11T17:55:00.000-07:00

Sista flyttningslasset hade gått; hyresgästen, en ung man med sorgflor på hatten, vandrade ännu en gång genom våningen för att se om han glömt något. — Nej, han hade icke glömt något, absolut ingenting; och så gick han ut, i tamburen, fast besluten att icke mer tänka på det han upplevat i denna våning. Men se, i tamburen, invid telefonen, satt ett halvt ark papper fastnubbat; och det var fullskrivet med flera stilar, somt redigt med bläck, annat klottrat med blyerts eller rödpenna. Där stod det, hela denna vackra historia, som avspelats på den korta tiden av två år; allt han ville glömma stod där; ett stycke mänskoliv på ett halvt ark papper.
Han tog ner arket; det var sådant där solgult konceptpapper, som det lyser av. Han lade det på salskakelugnens kappa, och lutad över detsamma läste han. Först stod hennes namn: Alice, det vackraste namn han då visste, därför att det var hans fästmös. Och numret — 15 11. Det såg ut som ett psalmnummer i kyrkan. Därpå stod: Banken. Det var hans arbete, den heliga arbetet, som gav brödet, hemmet och makan, grunden till existensen. Men det var överstruket! Ty banken hade störtat, men han hade räddats över på en annan bank, dock efter en kort tid av mycken oro.
Så kom det. Blomsterhandeln och hyrkusken. Det var förlovningen, då han hade fickan full av pängar.
Därpå: möbelhandlarn, tapetserarn: han sätter bo. Expressbyrån: de flytta in.
Operans biljettkontor: 50 50. De äro nygifta och gå på Operan om söndagarne. Deras bästa stunder då de själva sitta tysta, och råkas i skönhet och harmoni i sagolandet på andra sidan ridån.
Här följer ett mansnamn, som är överstruket. Det var en vän, som nått en viss höjd i samhället, men som icke kunde bära lyckan, utan föll, ohjälpligt, och måste resa långt bort. Så bräckligt är det!
Här synes något nytt ha inträtt i makarnes liv. Det står, med en fruntimmershand, och blyertspenna: »Frun». Vilken fru? — Jo, den med den stora kappan och det vänliga deltagande ansiktet, som kommer så tyst, och aldrig går genom salen, utan tar korridorvägen till sängkammaren.
Under hennes namn står Doktor L.
För första gången dyker här upp namnet på en släkting. Det står »Mamma». Det är svärmodren, som diskret hållit sig undan för att icke störa de nygifta, men nu påkallas i nödens stund, och kommer med glädje, efter som hon behövs.
Här börjar ett stort klotter med blått och rött. Kommissionskontoret: jungfrun har flyttat, eller skall en ny anställas. Apoteket. Hm! Det mörknar! Mejeribolaget. Här rekvireras mjölk, tuberkelfri.
Kryddbon, slaktarn etc. Huset börjar skötas per telefon; då är husmodren icke på sin plats. Nej. Ty hon ligger till sängs.
Det som sedan följde kunde han icke läsa, ty det börjar skymma för hans ögon, som det måtte göra för den drunknande på havet, när han skall se igenom salt vatten. Men där stod: Begravningsbyrån. Det talar ju nog! — En större och en mindre, underförstått, kista. Och i parentes var skrivet: av stoft.
Sedan stod där intet mer! Stoft slutade det med; och det gör det.
Men han tog solpapperet, kysste det och lade det i sin bröstficka.
På två minuter hade han genomlevat två år av sitt liv.
Han var icke böjd, när han gick ut; han bar tvärtom sitt huvud högt, som en lycklig och stolt människa, ty han kände att han dock ägt det skönaste. Hur många arma, som aldrig fått det!

Strindberg - Ett halvt ark papper (1903)

Yehuda 2008

2008-07-09T18:37:00.000-07:00

The enormous size of the leviathan is thus illustrated by R. Johanan, from whom proceeded nearly all the haggadot concerning this monster: "Once we went in a ship and saw a fish which put his head out of the water. He had horns upon which was written: 'I am one of the meanest creatures that inhabit the sea. I am three hundred miles in length, and enter this day into the jaws of the leviathan'" (B. B. l.c.). When the leviathan is hungry, reports R. Dimi in the name of R. Johanan, he sends forth from his mouth a heat so great as to make all the waters of the deep boil, and if he would put his head into paradise no living creature could endure the odor of him (ib.). His abode is the Mediterranean Sea; and the waters of the Jordan fall into his mouth (Bek. 55b; B. B. l.c.).
The body of the leviathan, especially his eyes, possesses great illuminating power. This was the opinion of R. Eliezer, who, in the course of a voyage in company with R. Joshua, explained to the latter, when frightened by the sudden appearance of a brilliant light, that it probably proceeded from the eyes of the leviathan. He referred his companion to the words of Job xli. 18: "By his neesings a light doth shine, and his eyes are like the eyelids of the morning" (B. B. l.c.). However, in spite of his supernatural strength, the leviathan is afraid of a small worm called "kilbit", which clings to the gills of large fishes and kills them (Shab. 77b).

Wikipedia entry on Leviathan

Castaños 2005

2008-07-09T04:21:00.000-07:00

Un violento golpe arrebató el papel de mis manos. Encabritose mi caballo, y al avanzar siguiendo el escuadrón, sentí la estrepitosa risa de un soldado quedecía: «Aquí no se viene a leer cartas». Corrimos fuera de la carretera, y todos mis compañeros proferían exclamaciones de frenética alegría. Vi los cañones inmóviles y delante una espesa cortina de humo, que al disiparse permitía distinguir los restos del batallón de marinos. En el frente francés flotaba una bandera blanca, avanzando hacia nuestro frente. La batalla había concluido.
Nuestros soldados se abrazaban con delirio. Confundíanse los diversos regimientos, y los paisanos advenedizos con la tropa. La gente del vecino pueblo de Bailén acudía con cántaros y botijos de agua. Agrupábanse hombres y mujeres junto a los heridos para recogerlos. Los caballos recorrían orgullosos la carretera, y los generales confundidos con la gente de tropa, demostraban su alegría con tanta llaneza como esta. Los gritos de ¡viva España!, ¡viva Fernando VII! parecían un concierto que llenaba el espacio como antes el ruido del cañón; y el mundo todo se estremecía con el júbilo de nuestra victoria y con el desastre de los franceses, primera vacilación del orgulloso Imperio. En tanto yo recorría el campamento, miraba al suelo, miraba las manos de todos, las cureñas de los cañones, los charcos de sangre, los mil rincones del suelo, junto al cuerpo de un herido y bajo la cabeza del caballo moribundo. Marijuán se llegó a mí con los brazos abiertos y gritó:
-Les vencimos, Gabriel. ¡Viva España y los españoles,y la Virgen del Pilar a quien se debe todo! Pero ¿qué buscas, que así miras al suelo?
-Busco un papel que se me ha perdido -le contesté.

Benito Pérez Galdós - Bailén (1876)

Khaleed 2008

2008-07-08T05:07:00.000-07:00

If any Mouse Loom fighter goes to battle field and get killed, called "Martyrs" and he is entitled to enter Paradise without let and hindrance; there he will be enjoying with charming ladies and blue eyed lady boys, wearing silky dress and necklace. This facility is for Mouse Loom fighters only, and the journalist language invented by Profiteer MO to hold a tight grip on them.- AlHooti from Oman - comment to Israel to Exhume Bodies of Martyrs Ahead of Swap (Aljazeera)

Ossian 2008

2008-07-07T19:11:00.000-07:00

Mais enfin, monsieur, direz-vous sans doute, quel est donc ce je ne sais quoi de mystérieux que Delacroix, pour la gloire de notre siècle, a mieux traduit qu'aucun autre? C'est l'invisible, c'est l'impalpable, c'est le rêve, c'est les nerfs, c'est l'âme; et il a fait cela, - observez-le bien, monsieur, - sans autres moyens que le contour et la couleur; il l'a fait mieux que pas un; il l'a fait avec la perfection d'un peintre consommé, avec la rigueur d'un littérateur subtil, avec l'éloquence d'un musicien passionné. C'est, du reste, un des diagnostics de l'état spirituel de notre siècle que les arts aspirent, sinon à se suppléer l'un l'autre, du moins à se prêter réciproquement des forces nouvelles

Baudelaire - L'Œuvre et la vie d'Eugène Delacroix (1863)

Wittgenstein 2004

2008-07-05T18:01:00.000-07:00

TROMPETEN

Unter verschnittenen Weiden, wo braune Kinder spielen
Und Blätter treiben, tönen Trompeten. Ein Kirchhofsschauer.
Fahnen von Scharlach stürzen durch des Ahorns Trauer,
Reiter entlang an Roggenfeldern, leeren Mühlen.

Oder Hirten singen nachts und Hirsche treten
In den Kreis ihrer Feuer, des Hains uralte Trauer,
Tanzende heben sich von einer schwarzen Mauer;
Fahnen von Scharlach, Lachen, Wahnsinn, Trompeten.

Georg Trakl

Mrs. Green 2008

2008-07-05T01:50:00.000-07:00

Friday, 21st. Got the Copper Oven ashore and fixed it in the bank of the breastwork. Yesterday, as Mr. Green and Dr. Monkhouse were taking a walk, they happened to meet with the Body of the Man we had shott, as the Natives made them fully understand; the manner in which the body was interred being a little extraordinary. I went to-day, with some others, to see it. Close by the House wherein he resided when living was built a small shed, but whether for the purpose or no I cannot say, for it was in all respects like some of the Sheds or Houses they live in. This shed was about 14 or 16 feet long, 10 or 12 broad, and of a proportionable height. One end was wholy open, the other end and two sides was partly inclosed with a kind of wicker'd work. In this Shed lay the Corps, upon a Bier or frame of wood, with a matted bottom, like a Cott frame used at Sea, and Supported by 4 Posts about 5 feet from the Ground. The body was cover'd with a Matt, and over that a white Cloth; alongside of the Body lay a wooden Club, one of their Weapons of War. The Head of the Corps lay next the close end of the Shed, and at this end lay 2 Cocoa Nutt Shells, such as they sometimes use to carry water in; at the other end of the Shed was a Bunch of Green leaves, with some dry'd twigs tied all together and stuck in the Ground, and a stone lying by them as big as a Cocoa Nutt. Near to these lay a young Plaintain Tree, such as they use as Emblems of Peace, and by it lay a stone Axe. At the open end of the Shed was stuck upwright in the ground the Stem of a Plaintain Tree about 5 feet high, on the Top of which stood a Cocoa Nutt shell full of fresh water, and on the side of the post hung a small Bag, wherein was a few pieces of Bread Fruit roasted ready for eating. Some of the pieces were fresh and others Stale. The Natives did not seem to like that we should go near the body, and stood at a little distance themselves while we examin'd these matters, and appeared to be pleased when we came away. It certainly was no very agreeable place, for it stunk intollerably, and yet it was not above 10 yards from the Huts wherein several of the living resided. The first day we landed we saw the Skeleton of a human being laying in this manner under a shade that was just big enough to cover it, and some days after that, when some of the Gentlemen went with a design to examine it more narrowly, it was gone. It was at this time thought that this manner of interring their Dead was not common to all ranks of People, as this was the first we had seen Except the Skeleton just mentioned; but various were the opinions concerning the Provisions, etc., laid about the Dead. Upon the whole, it should seem that these people not only believe in a Supreem being, but in a future state also, and this must be meant either as an Offering to some Deitie or for the use of the Dead in the other world; but this latter is not very probable, as there appeared to be no Priest Craft in the thing, for whatever Provisions were put there it appeared very plain to us that there it remain'd until it consumed away of itself. It is most likely that we shall see more of this before we leave the Island, but if it is a Religious ceremony we may not be able to understand it, for the Misteries of most Religions are very Dark and not easily understood, even by those who profess them.

James Cook - Captain Cook's Journal, First Voyage/Chapter 3 - Tahiti

Isoldas e Tritões 2008

2008-07-04T19:15:00.000-07:00

Sara & André fazem uma exposição hands-off. Escolhem não os melhores artesãos (como Koons) mas os artistas possíveis dentro da micro-estrutura económica que é a sua própria galeria, e iniciam uma linha de produção, uma espécie de mini-Factory em Open Studio. Fazem das contradições económicas do seu ambiente as suas próprias premissas conceptuais – se cinquenta por cento do valor de venda das obras em exposição reverte para o galerista, porque não há-de ser a ele, numa análise feita em espelho, delegada toda a produção da exposição, servindo-se da sua própria mercadoria: os outros artistas? Se S&A tivessem seguido, para além das estratégias de criação de uma Fundação e da delegação sistemática de trabalho, outras orientações do trabalho de M. Cattelan e reproduzissem a sua acção de pendurar o galerista no tecto, minimizariam ou maximizariam o factor de risco desta exposição?

Lígia Afonso - Arte Capital.Net

Marcadante 2006

2008-07-02T17:16:00.000-07:00

Fuggite, amanti, Amor, fuggite 'l foco;
l'incendio è aspro e la piaga è mortale,
c'oltr'a l'impeto primo più non vale
né forza né ragion né mutar loco.

Fuggite, or che l'esemplo non è poco
d'un fiero braccio e d'un acuto strale;
leggete in me, qual sarà 'l vostro male,
qual sarà l'impio e dispietato gioco.

Fuggite, e non tardate, al primo sguardo:
ch'i' pensa' d'ogni tempo avere accordo;
or sento, e voi vedete, com'io ardo.

Michelangelo Buonarroti

Sture 2006

2008-07-01T00:24:00.000-07:00

Carl etc. Wår ynnest etc. Oß hafwer Wårt Cammar Collegium i Underdh. demonstrerat, hurusåsom icke allenast Ränte och Proviantmästaren Axel Christerßon är oskyldig til den af Eder honom påförde balance, och fördenskull aldeles befrijadh, uthan och at Staden Narven haar haft goda och gijltige skiähl at excipera emot det, som dhe i lijka måtto giöras skyldige, och tycka derföre wara mycket swårt och eftertänkeligit at I strax hafwe hotat den förre med execution och uthi Eder skrifwelse til Magistraten förekastat dem såsom skulle dhe wilja föra process emot Oß, i dy at dhe offerera sigh med en grundelig förklaring at inkomma och reservera sigh beneficia juris, sägandes I, at såsom Wij äro öfwer lagen och kunnom ändra lagen så skulle denne dheras begäran wara hård och eftertenkelig i en saak som intet under ingen [sic] rätt uthan Execution hörer; Hwilket heelt annorlunda är beskaffat och annorledes böör uthaf Eder considereras; ty först böör ingen Execution skee uthan uthi klare och ostridige saker och uppå föregången laga ransakning och dom och effter wederbörandes först inhämtade skääl och förklaring. 2. Heter det intet at föra process emot Oß at biuda sigh til förklaring och til beneficia juris, den Wij ingen af Wåre trogne Undersåtare nåntzin börom eller wiljom wägra och neka. 3. Ehuruwäl kunne uthi wiße måhl säijas wara öfwer lagen, så wijda Wij äga macht och rätt med moget och wälbetänkt råd at ändra eller förklara eller moderera lagen när någon evident billigheet eller oumgängelig nödtorfft dhet fordrar och tillåter, men i oträngde måhler och uthi den ordinarie af Oß stadgade processu at giöra någon ändring, eller at skatta Oß så öfwer lagen at Wij intet wilie låta Wåre Undersåtare niuta och nyttia dhen til sin tryggheet och förswar, dhet är aldeles alient ifrån Wårt Konglige Embete och incompatibelt med Wåre Undersåtares säkerheet dhen Wij dem emot dheras trohetz och hörsamhetz plicht lofwat och swurit hafwe. Ty måste I för all ting achta och see Eder wäl före, at I icke betage I någon ting Wåre trogne Undersåtare beneficia juris och tijdh och tillfälle sin nödtorfft igenom skähl och förklaringar at andraga; hwar wid Wij ohså [sic] finne nödigt at påminna dhet I uthi brefwen til Magistratz Personerne låten af dem som sådanne författa, bruka mi[ld]are expressioner och itt fogeligare maneer, hwarmed man offte så hoos dhe förnämare som ringare betiente mycket mehra uthrättar och winner, än med all för stoor strängheet och hårda ordeformer, på det dhe hwad som af dem fordras, måge med så mycket gladare hierta och större redebogenheet antaga och förrätta, så kan åter alfwarsamheten i sielfwa wärket när så behöfwes, komma så mycket bättre till paß och winna större efftertryck. Hwilket alt Wij uthi en nådig mening påminne och i den intentionen at förekomma här inrijkes dhe widrige omdömen, som elliest skulle förorsakas, och at dheruthi stiffta en sådan harmonie emellan Eder som å Wåre wägnar hafwa at befalla i Gouvernementet, och dhe som åter böra lyda, så at I bägge siders kunne hugna Eder af itt godt inbördes förstånd, och Wij så mycket mindre beswär hafwa at förwänta, när alt med fogligheet och stillheet i dhe saker som kunne och böra så rättas, aflöper; och åther igen dher ifwer och alfwar tarfwas, den samme i lijka måtto brukas. Hwar med Oß skeer itt nådigt nöije etc.
CAROLUS

Karl XI - reskript till General Schultz i Narva

Druso 2008

2008-06-30T17:06:00.000-07:00

TI·CLAVDIO·DRVSI·F·CAISARI AVGVSTO·GERMANICO PONTIFICI·MAXIM·TRIB·POTESTAT·XICOS·V·IMP·XXII·CENS·PATRI·PATRIAI SENATVS·POPVLVSQVEROMANVS·QVODREGES·BRITANNORUM·XI·DEVICTOS·SINEVLLA·IACTVRA·IN·DEDITIONEM·ACCEPERIT GENTESQVE·BARBARAS·TRANS·OCEANVMPRIMVS·IN·DICIONEM·POPVLI·ROMANI·REDEGERIT

Touissant 2008

2008-06-29T02:39:00.000-07:00

¿Cuáles eran los elementos de vida moral y política de Santo Domingo antes de la anexión? Solo la influencia del general Santana era suficiente a contener al pueblo dentro de los límites que hasta entonces reconociera y aceptara; y esto era efecto de las luchas civiles que ensangrentaban el país y de las constantes amenazas de Haití. Además, administraciones como las de Jiménez y Baez dejaron al país exhausto de recursos después de haber hecho pública irrisión de las leyes y burlándose de la moral pública. Oh, si, a los dominicanos les tenia mas ventaja disolverse a continuar sosteniéndose en pie de guerra, cerradas todas las fuentes de una prosperidad racional y a la vista de calamidades que después de hacerles arrostrar todas las inquietudes, todos los disgustos y sinsabores de una vida agitada, en medio de su genio vivo y de su carácter independiente, noble y altivo, hubiera concluido por hacerles morir de inanición. ¿Y cree esto justo, humanitario, patriótico el autor del libelo? La anexión debía de conjurar esa serie de peligros, poniendo a salvo la antigua nacionalidad de la primada de las Antillas. ¿Ha llenado su objeto, si o no? Los hechos, mejor que nosotros, contestan afirmativamente y del modo mas satisfactorio a esta pregunta. La mas completa calma, la mayor tranquilidad ha reemplazado a la inquietud, al malestar que hace poco se sentía de un extremo a otro del territorio dominicano: la afluencia de capitales revela claramente la consolidación de una paz duradera, el entusiasta desarme de las fuerzas del país es un indicio seguro de trabajo y prosperidad, y la presencia de un brazo fuerte, de un gobierno estable y prudente una señal inequívoca de que los partidos rivales cesarán de hostilizarse en adelante. En el interés de los mismos partidos está el no turbar el orden, cediendo a un sentimiento de ambición o de venganza.

Manuel de Jesús Galván - El general Don Pedro Santana y la anexión de Santo Domingo a España; Contestación al folleto clandestino titulado: LA GRAN TRAICIÓN DEL GENERAL PEDRO SANTANA acompañada de breves consideraciones políticas, económicas y sociales acerca de aquel memorable acontecimiento.

Khamenei 2008

2008-06-28T14:14:00.000-07:00

IRAN is trying to lose all her youths before the day of judgement. The Paradise key holder youths, in war with Iraq, still stranded at the gates of Paradise and none them, so far, succeeded to open the gates and grip those untouched rechargeable enchantingly young women. - AlHooti from Oman commenting Israel to strike Iran before new U.S. president sworn in (Aljazeera)

Breton 2008

2008-06-26T20:09:00.000-07:00

Poète noir, un sein de pucellete hante,
poète aigri, la vie boutet la ville brûle,
et le ciel se résorbe en pluie,
ta plume gratte au cœur de la vie.

Forêt, forêt, des yeux fourmillent
sur les pignons multipliés;
cheveux d’orage, les poètes
enfourchent des chevaux, des chiens.

Les yeux ragent, les langues tournent,
le ciel afflue dans les narines
comme un lait nourricier et bleu;
je suis suspendu à vos bouches
femmes, cœurs de vinaigre durs

Artaud - (Poète Noir) L’Ombilic des limbes

Cintra 2006

2008-06-23T02:49:00.001-07:00

Ganda pinta, Vale! Assim mesmo é que é. E o mais extraordinário é que não roubou o Estado, chegou aldrabar o Benfica e uns amigos. É quase caso para dizer-se que ficou tudo em família. Agora, Valito, tens de comprar um yacht novo, chmar-lhe Lucky Guy e fazeres-te à água no Serpentine, aí no Hyde Park. Vais ver que vai ser um happening aí em Londres. Uma coisa assim tipo Ascott, topas? Depois, até seres tu-cá-tu-lá com a família real é uma questão de dias. E esses podem cair com muito mais do que 15 milhões. 15 milhões, o que é isso? Peanuts!

Mancha Negra, Vladivostok - comentário a Condenado a 7,5 anos e com mandado de captura
Vale e Azevedo vive no bairro mais caro de Londres numa mansão de 15 milhões (Público)

Sá 2005

2008-06-22T16:49:00.000-07:00

Como já anteriormente tinhamos anunciado no nosso blogue, Cunhal começa uma aproximação ao marxismo-leninismo. Saudamo-lo por isso embora já o soubéssemos. Tal como o camarada B., anterior militante revisionista e que é neste momento um grande dirigente do proletário vermelho. Já o Barnabé ziguezagueia desorientado entre a classe operária aliada ao pequeno campesinato e a burguesia revisionista.
Relembramos comentários anteriormente feitos a um outro post (é significativo da verdadeira natureza do Barnabé a confissão de (auto?)censura feita por um dos seus membros):
Caros revisionistas do barnabé:
A vocês que começam por renegar Estalin, e depois renegam Lenin e depois renegam Marx e depois renegam Proudhon e depois renegam tudo aquilo de que é feita a esquerda para depois virem dizer que são da esquerda deixo aqui de novo o poema do Robert Wyatt sobre o revisionismo:

They say the working class is dead, we're all consumers now

They say that we have moved ahead - we're all just people now

There's people doing 'frightfully well' there's others on the shelf

But never mind the second kind this is the age of self

They say we need new images to help our movement grow

They say that life is broader based as if we didn't know

While Martin J. and Robert M. play with printer's ink

The workers 'round the world still die for Rio Tinto Zinc

And it seems to me if we forget

Our roots and where we stand

The movement will disintegrate

Like castles built on sand

Afixado por o proletário vermelho em novembro 12, 2003 02:22 PM

é verdade, o Wyatt é um dos últimos estalinistas. Confesso que o omiti de propósito dado o contexto. Mas a ele perdoa-se-lhe tudo.

Afixado por celsomartins em novembro 12, 2003 11:43 PM

Bordiga 2007

2008-06-20T19:55:00.000-07:00

In reality one reads a book because of practical impulses (and one should find out why certain impulses are more general than others) and one re-reads for artistic reasons. The aesthetic emotion hardly ever comes on the first reading. - Antonio Gramsci

Comden 2008

2008-06-20T03:50:00.000-07:00

You're the top! You're the Colosseum,
You're the top! You're the Louvre Museum,
You're a melody from a symphony by Strauss,
You're a Bendel bonnet, a Shakespeart sonnet,
You're Mickey Mouse.
You're the Nile, You're the Tow'r of Pisa,
You're the smile on the Mona Lisa.
I'm a worthless check, a total wreck, a flop,
But if, Baby, I'm the bottom, You're the top!

Cole Porter - Anything Goes

Hume 2008

2008-06-17T00:13:00.000-07:00

The sun is warm, the sky is clear,
The waves are dancing fast and bright,
Blue isles and snowy mountains wear
The purple noon's transparent light:
The breath of the moist earth is light
Around its unexpanded buds;
Like many a voice of one delight -
The winds', the birds', the ocean-floods' -
The City's voice itself is soft like Solitude's.

I see the Deep's untrampled floor
With green and purple sea-weeds strown;
I see the waves upon the shore
Like light dissolved in star-showers thrown:
I sit upon the sands alone;
The lightning of the noon-tide ocean
Is flashing round me, and a tone
Arises from its measured motion -
How sweet! did any heart now share in my emotion.

Alas! I have nor hope nor health,
Nor peace within nor calm around,
Nor that Content, surpassing wealth,
The sage in meditation found,
And walk'd with inward glory crown'd -
Nor fame, nor power, nor love, nor leisure;
Others I see whom these surround -
Smiling they live, and call life pleasure;
To me that cup has been dealt in another measure.

Yet now despair itself is mild
Even as the winds and waters are;
I could lie down like a tired child,
And weep away the life of care
Which I have borne, and yet must bear,
Till death like sleep might steal on me,
And I might feel in the warm air
My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea
Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony.

Shelley - Stanzas Written In Dejection Near Naples

Müller 2005

2008-06-16T00:10:00.000-07:00

Catarì, Catarí...
pecché mm''e ddice sti pparole amare?!
Pecché mme parle e 'o core mme turmiente Catarí'?!
Nun te scurdá ca t'aggio dato 'o core, Catarí'...
Nun te scurdá...

Catarí...
Catarí, che vène a dicere
stu pparlá ca mme dá spáseme?
Tu nun ce pienze a stu dulore mio?!
Tu nun ce pienze, tu nun te ne cure...

Core, core 'ngrato...
T'hê pigliato 'a vita mia!
Tutto è passato...
e nun ce pienze cchiù.

Catarí, Catarí...
tu nun 'o ssaje ca fino e 'int'a na chiesa
io só trasuto e aggiu pregato a Dio, Catarí...
E ll'aggio ditto pure a 'o cunfessore: "Io stó a murí
pe' chella llá...
Stó a suffrí,
stó a suffrí nun se pò credere...
stó a suffrí tutte li strazie..."
E 'o cunfessore, ch'è perzona santa,
mm'ha ditto: "Figliu mio lássala stá, lássala stá!..."

Core, core 'ngrato...
T'hê pigliato 'a vita mia!
Tutto è passato...
e nun ce pienze cchiù

Canzona da Napule

Brossa 2007

2008-06-15T16:14:00.000-07:00

Amic Millàs-Raurell:
Prampolini ha fet trossos la munífica Vesta de Beatriu (de Giovanni Duprè). Siena n'és conmoguda. A Florència -per via sense fils- la dissort hi és vinguda així mateix: els plecs del monument a Ferrari Corbelli són desapareguts. Les pubilles, tot nues, s'han posat a cantar com diablesses una cançó infernal. Suara he arribat jo.
A "Valori Plastici", es diu: Giovanni Papini ha enviat per correu a Marx Berkman, un xop cervesa Pilsen. (Il mio futurismo). -Ara no ho féssiu córrer, que els de "Noi" no s'ho poden acabar.
Aquí a Roma es murmura que per a comprendre En Foix de Sarrià hom deu llegir a Sòfocles primer. La Laieta ha plorat, car haurà de tornar a començar pel Narro... perquè no el sap llegir.
Dídac Ruiz, a Mòdena (ens ho ha fet saber Antonio Foschini), ha escrit que la blasfèmia és la rosa de foc de la virtut. Per aquest expedient Prampolini ha sortit de la presó.
-M. Giobbe ha esgrafiat una testa de Ruiz. -Giuseppe Ravegnani ha manat a Strawinsky que en fes la partitura: ha comprat els pentagrames a Gerald de Tyrwitt. Tot això no està bé, ja ho saps, però jo en enterar-me'n he enviat un telegrama a En V. Solé de Sojo. Que en tregui ell l'entrellat.
-En Carrà i En Soffici s'han canviat una tela. És la darrera nova que he sabut

Joan Salvat-Papasseit -Lletra d'Itàlia (Poemes en ondes hertzianes 1919)

Turner 2008

2008-06-13T18:03:00.000-07:00

No, no, go not to Lethe, neither twist
Wolfs-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine;
Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kiss'd
By nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine;
Make not your rosary of yew-berries,
Nor let the beetle, nor the death-moth be
Your mournful Psyche, nor the downy owl
A partner in your sorrow's mysteries;
For shade to shade will come too drowsily,
And drown the wakeful anguish of the soul.

But when the melancholy fit shall fall
Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud,
That fosters the droop-headed flowers all,
And hides the green hill in an April shroud;
Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose,
Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave,
Or on the wealth of globed peonies;
Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows,
Emprison her soft hand, and let her rave,
And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes.

III

She dwells with Beauty - Beauty that must die;
And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips
Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh,
Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips:
Ay, in the very temple of Delight
Veil'd Melancholy has her sovran shrine,
Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue
Can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine;
His soul shall taste the sadness of her might,
And be among her cloudy trophies hung.

John Keats - Ode on Melancholy

Marschner 2005

2008-06-11T04:25:00.000-07:00

XXIX.

Es war ein alter König,

Sein Herz war schwer, sein Haupt war grau;

Der arme alte König,

Er nahm eine junge Frau.

Es war ein schöner Page,
Blond war sein Haupt, leicht war sein Sinn;

Er trug die seidne Schleppe

Der jungen Königin.

Kennst du das alte Liedchen?
Es klingt so süß, es klingt so trüb!
Sie mußten beyde sterben,

Sie hatten sich viel zu lieb.

Heirich Heine - Neue Gedichte (1844)

Struensee 2008

2008-06-10T04:41:00.000-07:00

Considering Copenhagen as the capital of Denmark and Norway, I was surprised not to see so much industry or taste as in Christiania. Indeed, from everything I have had an opportunity of observing, the Danes are the people who have made the fewest sacrifices to the graces.
The men of business are domestic tyrants, coldly immersed in their own affairs, and so ignorant of the state of other countries, that they dogmatically assert that Denmark is the happiest country in the world; the Prince Royal the best of all possible princes; and Count Bernstorff the wisest of ministers.
As for the women, they are simply notable housewives; without accomplishments or any of the charms that adorn more advanced social life. This total ignorance may enable them to save something in their kitchens, but it is far from rendering them better parents. On the contrary, the children are spoiled, as they usually are when left to the care of weak, indulgent mothers, who having no principle of action to regulate their feelings, become the slaves of infants, enfeebling both body and mind by false tenderness.
I am, perhaps, a little prejudiced, as I write from the impression of the moment; for I have been tormented to-day by the presence of unruly children, and made angry by some invectives thrown out against the maternal character of the unfortunate Matilda. She was censured, with the most cruel insinuation, for her management of her son, though, from what I could gather, she gave proofs of good sense as well as tenderness in her attention to him. She used to bathe him herself every morning; insisted on his being loosely clad; and would not permit his attendants to injure his digestion by humouring his appetite. She was equally careful to prevent his acquiring haughty airs, and playing the tyrant in leading-strings. The Queen Dowager would not permit her to suckle him; but the next child being a daughter, and not the Heir-Apparent of the Crown, less opposition was made to her discharging the duty of a mother.
Poor Matilda! thou hast haunted me ever since may arrival; and the view I have had of the manners of the country, exciting my sympathy, has increased my respect for thy memory.
I am now fully convinced that she was the victim of the party she displaced, who would have overlooked or encouraged her attachment, had not her lover, aiming at being useful, attempted to overturn some established abuses before the people, ripe for the change, had sufficient spirit to support him when struggling in their behalf. Such indeed was the asperity sharpened against her that I have heard her, even after so many years have elapsed, charged with licentiousness, not only for endeavouring to render the public amusements more elegant, but for her very charities, because she erected, amongst other institutions, a hospital to receive foundlings. Disgusted with many customs which pass for virtues, though they are nothing more than observances of forms, often at the expense of truth, she probably ran into an error common to innovators, in wishing to do immediately what can only be done by time.
Many very cogent reasons have been urged by her friends to prove that her affection for Struensee was never carried to the length alleged against her by those who feared her influence. Be that as it may she certainly was no a woman of gallantry, and if she had an attachment for him it did not disgrace her heart or understanding, the king being a notorious debauchee and an idiot into the bargain. As the king's conduct had always been directed by some favourite, they also endeavoured to govern him, from a principle of self-preservation as well as a laudable ambition; but, not aware of the prejudices they had to encounter, the system they adopted displayed more benevolence of heart than soundness of judgment. As to the charge, still believed, of their giving the King drugs to injure his faculties, it is too absurd to be refuted. Their oppressors had better have accused them of dabbling in the black art, for the potent spell still keeps his wits in bondage.
I cannot describe to you the effect it had on me to see this puppet of a monarch moved by the strings which Count Bernstorff holds fast; sit, with vacant eye, erect, receiving the homage of courtiers who mock him with a show of respect. He is, in fact, merely a machine of state, to subscribe the name of a king to the acts of the Government, which, to avoid danger, have no value unless countersigned by the Prince Royal; for he is allowed to be absolutely aim idiot, excepting that now and then an observation or trick escapes him, which looks more like madness than imbecility.
What a farce is life. This effigy of majesty is allowed to burn down to the socket, whilst the hapless Matilda was hurried into an untimely grave.

"As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods;They kill us for their sport."
Adieu!

Mary Wollstonecraft - Letters Written during a Short Residence in Sweden, Norway, and Denmark (1796)

Zandomeneghi 2004

2008-06-08T18:59:00.000-07:00

"Oh! Pietro! Pietro!... ti vedo!...", gridò esultante; con un accento indescrivibile che avea più dell'urlo dello spasimo che del trasporto della gioia; "m'ami?!... m'ami tu?!!!..."

E si rovesciò assieme a lui sul canapè vincendo, con uno sforzo disperato, miracoloso, la difficoltà di proferire, il torpore della mente, l'inerzia delle forze, l'agonia insomma.

"Pietro, m'ami ancora?!"

"Sì! sì! t'adoro!...", singhiozzò egli tentando inumidire l'aridità di quella pelle coll'umido delle sue labbra, di scacciare il torpore di quelle membra, la pesantezza di quelle palpebre coll'impeto dei suoi baci; cercando trasfondere la vita che sentiva rigogliosa, giovane, potente in lui, nel soffio che alitava fra le labbra di lei violacee, semiaperte e convulse.

Giovanni Verga - Una peccatrice (1866)

Clinton 2005

2008-06-08T03:37:00.001-07:00

The Iraq war was a disaster for Iraq, a disaster for the United States, a disaster for the Middle East, a disaster for the world community, but most of all, it was a disaster for the experts. - Al Jazeera - 8 Jun 2008

Colbert 2008

2008-06-05T16:10:00.000-07:00

25. On passera après la Piramide, où l’on s’arrestera un moment, et après on remontera au chasteau par le degré de marbre qui est entre l’Esguiseur et la Vénus honteuse, on se tournera sur le haut du degré pour voir le parterre du Nort, les statues, les vases, les couronnes, la Piramide et ce qu’on peut voir de Neptune, et après on sortira du jardin par la mesme porte par où l’on est entré. Quand on voudra voir le mesme jour la Ménagerie et Trianon, après avoir fait la pause auprès d’Apollon, on ira s’embarquer pour aller à la Ménagerie. En montant sur l’amphithéatre, on fera une pause pour considérer le canal et ce qui le termine du costé de Trianon. On ira dans le salon du milieu. On entrera dans toutes les cours, où sont les animaux. Après on se rembarquera pour aller à Trianon. En arrivant, on montera par les rampes, on fera une pause en haut, et l’on fera remarquer les trois jets, le canal et le bout du costé de la Ménagerie. On ira droit à la fontaine du milieu du parterre bas, d’où l’on montrera la maison. Après l’on ira la voir par dedans, on entrera dans le peristile, on y remarquera la veüe de l’advenue, et du jardin l’on verra la Cour ; après on ira dans le reste de la maison jusques au salon du haut de la gallerie. On montrera le jardin du Roy. On reviendra par la mesme salon du bout de la gallerie pour entrer dans les Sources. Et après on passera dans la gallerie pour aller à Trianon sous bois. On ira jusques sur la terrasse du haut de la cascade, et puis on viendra sortir par le salon du bout de la gallerie du costé du bois. On ira le long de la terrasse jusques à l’angle, d’où l’on voit le canal, on tournera après au cabinet du bout de l’aisle d’où l’on verra le chasteau, les bois et le canal. On en sortira et l’on passera le long du corps du logis du côté des offices et l’on ira jusques à l’allée du milieu.

Louis XIV - Manière de montrer les jardins de Versailles

Goerdler 2007

2008-06-04T03:33:00.000-07:00

Schwarze Milch der Frühe wir trinken sie abends
wir trinken sie mittags und morgens wir trinken sie nachts
wir trinken und trinken
wir schaufeln ein Grab in den Lüften da liegt man nicht eng
Ein Mann wohnt im Haus der spielt mit den Schlangen der schreibt
der schreibt wenn es dunkelt nach Deutschland dein goldenes Haar Margarete
er schreibt es und tritt vor das Haus und es blitzen die Sterne er pfeift seine Rüden herbei
er pfeift seine Juden hervor läßt schaufeln ein Grab in der Erde
er befiehlt uns spielt auf nun zum Tanz

Schwarze Milch der Frühe wir trinken dich nachts
wir trinken dich morgens und mittags wir trinken dich abends
wir trinken und trinken
Ein Mann wohnt im Haus der spielt mit den Schlangen der schreibt
der schreibt wenn es dunkelt nach Deutschland dein goldenes Haar Margarete
Dein aschenes Haar Sulamith wir schaufeln ein Grab in den Lüften da liegt man nicht eng

Er ruft stecht tiefer ins Erdreich ihr einen ihr andern singet und spielt
er greift nach dem Eisen im Gurt er schwingts seine Augen sind blau
stecht tiefer die Spaten ihr einen ihr andern spielt weiter zum Tanz auf

Schwarze Milch der Frühe wir trinken dich nachts
wir trinken dich mittags und morgens wir trinken dich abends
wir trinken und trinken
ein Mann wohnt im Haus dein goldenes Haar Margarete
dein aschenes Haar Sulamith er spielt mit den Schlangen
Er ruft spielt süßer den Tod der Tod ist ein Meister aus Deutschland
er ruft streicht dunkler die Geigen dann steigt ihr als Rauch in die Luft
dann habt ihr ein Grab in den Wolken da liegt man nicht eng

Schwarze Milch der Frühe wir trinken dich nachts
wir trinken dich mittags der Tod ist ein Meister aus Deutschland
wir trinken dich abends und morgens wir trinken und trinken
der Tod ist ein Meister aus Deutschland sein Auge ist blau
er trifft dich mit bleierner Kugel er trifft dich genau
ein Mann wohnt im Haus dein goldenes Haar Margarete
er hetzt seine Rüden auf uns er schenkt uns ein Grab in der Luft
er spielt mit den Schlangen und träumet der Tod ist ein Meister aus Deutschland

dein goldenes Haar Margarete
dein aschenes Haar Sulamith

Paul Celan - Todesfugue

Mendizabal 2008

2008-06-03T16:16:00.000-07:00

Nadie comprendía el perfume
de la oscura magnolia de tu vientre.
Nadie sabía que martirizabas
un colibrí de amor entre los dientes.

Mil caballitos persas se dormían
en la plaza con luna de tu frente,
mientras que yo enlazaba cuatro noches
tu cintura, enemiga de la nieve.

Entre yeso y jazmines, tu mirada
era un pálido ramo de simientes.
Yo busqué, para darte, por mi pecho
las letras de marfil que dicen ''siempre'',

''siempre, siempre'': jardín de mi agonía,
tu cuerpo fugitivo para siempre,
la sangre de tus venas en mi boca,
tu boca ya sin luz para mi muerte.

Lorca - Gacela del Amor Imprevisto

Godoy 2004

2008-06-02T17:04:00.000-07:00

Tendo o terrível Bonaparte à vista,
Novo Aníbal, que esfalfa a voz da Fama,
"Ó capados heróis!" (aos seus exclama
Purpúreo fanfarrão, papal sacrista):

"O progresso estorvai da atroz conquista
Que da filosofia o mal derrama?...
"Disse, e em férvido tom saúda, e chama,
Santos surdos, varões por sacra lista:

Deles em vão rogando um pio arrojo,
Convulso o corpo, as faces amarelas,
Cede triste vitória, que faz nojo!

O rápido francês vai-lhe às canelas;
Dá, fere, mata: ficam-lhe em despojo
Relíquias, bulas, merdas, bagatelas.

Bocage - Soneto Napoleónico

Shaftsbury 2008

2008-06-01T17:52:00.000-07:00

O Rose, thou art sick!
The Invisible worm,
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,

Has found out thy bed
Of Crimson joy;
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.

William Blake - The sick Rose

Hyperion 2006

2008-06-01T02:16:00.000-07:00

O flaumenleichte Zeit der dunkeln Frühe!
Welch neue Welt bewegest du in mir?
Was ists, daß ich auf einmal nun in dir
Von sanfter Wollust meines Daseins glühe?

Einem Kristall gleicht meine Seele nun,
Den noch kein falscher Strahl des Lichts getroffen;
Zu fluten scheint mein Geist, er scheint zu ruhn,
Dem Eindruck naher Wunderkräfte offen,
Die aus dem klaren Gürtel blauer Luft
Zuletzt ein Zauberwort vor meine Sinne ruft.

Bei hellen Augen glaub ich doch zu schwanken;
Ich schließe sie, daß nicht der Traum entweiche.
Seh ich hinab in lichte Feenreiche?
Wer hat den bunten Schwarm von Bildern und Gedanken
Zur Pforte meines Herzens hergeladen,
Die glänzend sich in diesem Busen baden,
Goldfarbgen Fischlein gleich im Gartenteiche?

Ich höre bald der Hirtenflöten Klänge,
Wie um die Krippe jener Wundernacht,
Bald weinbekränzter Jugend Lustgesänge;
Wer hat das friedenselige Gedränge
In meine traurigen Wände hergebracht?

Und welch Gefühl entzückter Stärke,
Indem mein Sinn sich frisch zur Ferne lenkt!
Vom ersten Mark des heutgen Tags getränkt,
Fühl ich mir Mut zu jedem frommen Werke.

Die Seele fliegt, so weit der Himmel reicht,
Der Genius jauchzt in mir! Doch sage,
Warum wird jetzt der Blick von Wehmut feucht?
Ists ein verloren Glück, was mich erweicht?
Ist es ein werdendes, was ich im Herzen trage?
– Hinweg, mein Geist! hier gilt kein Stillestehn:
Es ist ein Augenblick, und Alles wird verwehn!

Dort, sieh, am Horizont lüpft sich der Vorhang schon!
Es träumt der Tag, nun sei die Nacht entflohn;
Die Purpurlippe, die geschlossen lag,
Haucht, halbgeöffnet, süße Atemzüge:
Auf einmal blitzt das Aug, und, wie ein Gott, der Tag
Beginnt im Sprung die königlichen Flüge!

Eduard Mörike - Am einem Wintermorgen, vor Sonnenaufgang

Sjoström 2008

2008-05-31T19:40:00.001-07:00

Kärlek är en känsla som präglas av en stark ömhet och tillgivenhet. Kärleken kan vara riktad mot abstrakta ting som konst eller nationen, mot mer allmänna konkreta ting som naturen eller Kyrkan, eller till mer specifika konkreta objekt som ens hem, ens husdjur eller en nära medmänniska, inklusive den egna personen. Kärlek i dess olika varianter är ett ofta återkommande tema inom litteratur, film och sång. - Wikipedia

Ramsés 2008

2008-05-30T04:24:00.000-07:00

«Nous sommes les deux plus grands peintres de ce siècle, Picasso dans le style égyptien, et moi dans le style réaliste» - Henri Rousseau

Lesseps 2004

2008-05-29T05:52:00.000-07:00

"61. But to love me is better than all things: if under the night stars in the desert thou presently burnest mine incense before me, invoking me with a pure heart, and the Serpent flame therein, thou shalt come a little to lie in my bosom. For one kiss wilt thou then be willing to give all; but whoso gives one particle of dust shall lose all in that hour. Ye shall gather goods and store of women and spices; ye shall wear rich jewels; ye shall exceed the nations of the earth in spendour & pride; but always in the love of me, and so shall ye come to my joy. I charge you earnestly to come before me in a single robe, and covered with a rich headdress. I love you! I yearn to you! Pale or purple, veiled or voluptuous, I who am all pleasure and purple, and drunkenness of the innermost sense, desire you. Put on the wings, and arouse the coiled splendour within you: come unto me!"

Aleister Crowley - Liber AL vel Legis

Scott Walker 2008

2008-05-27T18:24:00.000-07:00

Ne me quitte pas
Il faut oublier
Tout peut s'oublier
Qui s'enfuit déjà
Oublier le temps
Des malentendus
Et le temps perdu
A savoir comment
Oublier ces heures
Qui tuaient parfois
A coups de pourquoi
Le coeur du bonheur
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Moi je t'offrirai
Des perles de pluie
Venues de pays
Où il ne pleut pas
Je creuserai la terre
Jusqu'après ma mort
Pour couvrir ton corps
D'or et de lumière
Je ferai un domaine
Où l'amour sera roi
Où l'amour sera loi
Où tu seras reine
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Je t'inventerai
Des mots insensés
Que tu comprendras
Je te parlerai
De ces amants là
Qui ont vu deux fois
Leurs coeurs s'embraser
Je te raconterai
L'histoire de ce roi
Mort de n'avoir pas
Pu te rencontrer
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
On a vu souvent
Rejaillir le feu
D'un ancien volcan
Qu'on croyait trop vieux
Il est paraît-il
Des terres brûlées
Donnant plus de blé
Qu'un meilleur avril
Et quand vient le soir
Pour qu'un ciel flamboie
Le rouge et le noir
Ne s'épousent-ils pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Je ne vais plus pleurer
Je ne vais plus parler
Je me cacherai là
A te regarder
Danser et sourire
Et à t'écouter
Chanter et puis rire
Laisse-moi devenir
L'ombre de ton ombre
L'ombre de ta main
L'ombre de ton chien
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas - Jacques Brel (1959)

Leporello 2004

2008-05-26T18:47:00.000-07:00

Madamina, il catalogo è questo
Delle belle che amò il padron mio;
un catalogo egli è che ho fatt'io;
Osservate, leggete con me.
In Italia seicento e quaranta;
In Almagna duecento e trentuna;
Cento in Francia, in Turchia novantuna;
Ma in Ispagna son già mille e tre.
V'han fra queste contadine,
Cameriere, cittadine,
V'han contesse, baronesse,
Marchesine, principesse.
E v'han donne d'ogni grado,
D'ogni forma, d'ogni età.
Nella bionda egli ha l'usanza
Di lodar la gentilezza,
Nella bruna la costanza,
Nella bianca la dolcezza.
Vuol d'inverno la grassotta,
Vuol d'estate la magrotta;
È la grande maestosa,
La piccina e ognor vezzosa.
Delle vecchie fa conquista
Pel piacer di porle in lista;
Sua passion predominante
È la giovin principiante.
Non si picca - se sia ricca,
Se sia brutta, se sia bella;
Purché porti la gonnella,
Voi sapete quel che fa.

Lorenzo Da Ponte - Libretto do D. Giovanni (Mozart)

Rubén Dario 2007

2008-05-25T17:48:00.000-07:00

Llega un tableteo de fusilada. El grupo se mueve en confusa y medrosa alerta. Descuella el grito ronco de la mujer, que al ruido de las descargas aprieta a su niño muerto en los brazos.

LA MADRE DEL NIÑO: ¡Negros fusiles, matadme también con vuestros plomos!

MAX: Esa voz me traspasa.

LA MADRE DEL NIÑO: ¡Que tan fría, boca de nardo!

MAX: ¡Jamás oí voz con esa cólera trágica!

DON LATINO: Hay mucho de teatro.

MAX: ¡Imbécil!

El farol, el chuzo, la caperuza del sereno, bajan con un trote de madreñas por la acera.

EL EMPEÑISTA: ¿Qué ha sido, sereno?

EL SERENO: Un preso que ha intentado fugarse.

MAX: Latino, ya no puedo gritar... ¡Me muero de rabia!... Estoy mascando ortigas. Ese muerto sabía su fin... No le asustaba, pero temía el tormento... La Leyenda Negra, en estos días menguados, es la Historia de España. Nuestra vida es un círculo dantesco. Rabia y vergüenza. Me muero de hambre, satisfecho de no haber llevado una triste velilla en la trágica mojiganga. ¿Has oído los comentarios de esa gente, viejo canalla? Tú eres como ellos. Peor que ellos, porque no tienes una peseta y propagas la mala literatura, por entregas. Latino, vil corredor de aventuras insulsas, llévame al Viaducto. Te invito a regenerarte con un vuelo.

DON LATINO: ¡Max, no te pongas estupendo!

Ramón María del Valle-Inclán - Luces de Bohemia