agora que as condições estão praticamente reunidas- ecrã, sofá, temperatura, silêncio, tempo- seria altura de tentar um programa . Altman, Wiseman, Wenders. (Rivette? Fellini) falta o aquecedor, um silencioso.
Reasons for Attendance
Philip Larkin
The trumpet's voice, loud and authoritative,
Draws me a moment to the lighted glass
To watch the dancers - all under twenty-five -
Solemnly on the beat of happiness.
Or so I fancy, sensing the smoke and sweat,
The wonderful feel of girls. Why be out there ?
But then, why be in there? Sex, yes, but what
Is sex ? Surely to think the lion's share
Of happiness is found by couples - sheer
Inaccuracy, as far as I'm concerned.
What calls me is that lifted, rough-tongued bell
(Art, if you like) whose individual sound
Insists I too am individual.
It speaks; I hear; others may hear as well,
But not for me, nor I for them; and so
With happiness. Therefor I stay outside,
Believing this, and they maul to and fro,
Believing that; and both are satisfied,
If no one has misjudged himself. Or lied.
light gazing, ışığa bakmak
Friday, November 4, 2011
chuva, folhas (sister arts)
Publicado por Ana V. às 7:20 PM
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