sábado, 18 de abril de 2009

Blues da piedade

Agora eu vou cantar pros miseráveis
Que vagam pelo mundo derrotados
Pra essas sementes mal plantadas
Que já nascem com cara de abortadas

Pras pessoas de alma bem pequena
Remoendo pequenos problemas
Querendo sempre aquilo que não têm

Pra quem vê a luz
Mas não ilumina suas minicertezas
Vive contando dinheiro
E não muda quando é lua cheia

Pra quem não sabe amar
Fica esperando
Alguém que caiba no seu sonho
Como varizes que vão aumentando
Como insetos em volta da lâmpada

Vamos pedir piedade
Senhor, piedade
Pra essa gente careta e covarde
Vamos pedir piedade
Senhor, piedade
Lhes dê grandeza e um pouco de coragem

Quero cantar só para as pessoas fracas
Que tão no mundo e perderam a viagem
Quero cantar o blues
Com o pastor e o bumbo na praça

Vamos pedir piedade
Pois há um incêndio sob a chuva rala
Somos iguais em desgraça
Vamos cantar o blues da piedade

Vamos pedir piedade
Senhor, piedade
Pra essa gente careta e covarde
Vamos pedir piedade
Senhor, piedade
Lhes dê grandeza e um pouco de coragem

Cazuza

sábado, 11 de abril de 2009

The Matrix

Morpheus: The Matrix is a system, Neo. That system is our enemy. But when you're inside, you look around, what do you see? Businessmen, teachers, lawyers, carpenters. The very minds of the people we are trying to save. But until we do, these people are still a part of that system and that makes them our enemy. You have to understand, most of these people are not ready to be unplugged. And many of them are so inured, so hopelessly dependent on the system, that they will fight to protect it.


Morpheus: I imagine that right now, you're feeling a bit like Alice. Hmm? Tumbling down the rabbit hole?

Neo: You could say that.

Morpheus: I see it in your eyes. You have the look of a man who accepts what he sees because he is expecting to wake up. Ironically, that's not far from the truth. Do you believe in fate, Neo?

Neo: No.

Morpheus: Why not?

Neo: Because I don't like the idea that I'm not in control of my life.

Morpheus: I know *exactly* what you mean. Let me tell you why you're here. You're here because you know something. What you know you can't explain, but you feel it. You've felt it your entire life, that there's something wrong with the world. You don't know what it is, but it's there, like a splinter in your mind, driving you mad. It is this feeling that has brought you to me. Do you know what I'm talking about?

Neo: The Matrix.

Morpheus: Do you want to know what it is?

Neo: Yes.

Morpheus: The Matrix is everywhere. It is all around us. Even now, in this very room. You can see it when you look out your window or when you turn on your television. You can feel it when you go to work... when you go to church... when you pay your taxes. It is the world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth.

Neo: What truth?

Morpheus: That you are a slave, Neo. Like everyone else you were born into bondage. Into a prison that you cannot taste or see or touch. A prison for your mind.


Morpheus: I'm trying to free your mind, Neo. But I can only show you the door. You're the one that has to walk through it.

Morpheus: You take the blue pill, the story ends. You wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill, you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes.

segunda-feira, 6 de abril de 2009

Sonnet 64

Coming to kiss her lips (such grace I found)
Meseemd I smelt a garden of sweet flowers
That dainty odours from them threw around
For damzels fit to deck their lovers bowers

Her lips did smell like unto gillyflowers
Her ruddy cheeks like unto roses red;
Her snowy brows like budded bellamoures,
Her lovely eyes like pinks but newly spread,

Her goodly bosom like a strawberrry bed,
Her neck like to a bunch of columbines;
Her breast like lillies ere their leaves be shed,
Her nipples like young blossomed jessemines.

Such fragrant flowers do give most odorous smell,
But her sweet odor did them all excel.

Edmund Spenser