sábado, maio 22, 2010

The Green Dragon & The Black Cat

A few things I should keep in mind, and can't ... Why is it that the butterflies and the frogs don't let my steps go freely as I'd manage to give flowers to the flatteries of a dandy sailor on the sea of shoes and lollipops I can't spot on the different face of a jumping elephant?

There are moments in life that make you wonder whether you are actually going to make it or wether you'd see the world crumbling appart under the fountains of the dark rainbow of neverland's twilight, o miserable fortune of the week and the bottles of pepper! ...

No. No more, no more! This is where the nonsense stops! I cannot go further! I cannot. I stop, and I give up. Here's what you shall do: take a pair of eggs, and boil in frozen water, then sprinkle it on the face of your luck, and there you have it!: a Green Dragon & a Black Cat, the Dragon's called an Inn, the cat a Doldrum.

Now, all we need is a spoon and a couple of pillows! :)

[from http://www.facebook.com/g.olivieri76 ~]

quarta-feira, maio 12, 2010

Revisões, atualizações

O engraçado de ler as coisas que estão pra trás neste blog é pensar no que aconteceu, então é melhor eu manter as pessoas atualizadas, pra que não venham a me procurar em lugares errados.

~ Fui expulso do fórum Meia Palavra;
~ Pedi as contas & Saí do fórum Literature Network Forums

(Concluí que)

Não me dou bem em fóruns de literatura. Talvez porque não seja eu um literato. (De veras que nunca fui.)



Enter Narrator, and takes sit

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, while I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, as of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. " 'Tis some visitor", I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door; only this, and nothing more".


I. Enter Noise (stays at the narrator's back)

Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December, and each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow from my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Lenore, for the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore, nameless here forevermore. And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain thrilled me -- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; so that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating: " 'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door, some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door, this it is, and nothing more." Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, "Sir", said I, "or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; but the fact is, I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, and so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, that I scarce was sure I heard you ...". Here I opened wide the door -- darkness there, and nothing more.

II. Enter Darkness (or Echo), dressed in black, with hood, face unseen

Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before; but the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, and the only word there spoken was the whispered word, (Narrator says) "Lenore?". This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore! ...". Merely this, and nothing more.

III. (Echo stays inside; Noise goes to the window) At proper moment, Enter Bird

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, soon again I heard a tapping, somewhat louder than before. (Nervous) "Surely", said I, "surely, that is something at my window lattice. Let me see, then, what thereat'is, and this mystery explore. Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore. 'Tis the wind, and nothing more". Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, in there stepped a stately raven, of the saintly days of yore. Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; but with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door. Perched upon a bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door, perched, and sat, and nothing more. Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, by the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore: (Indifferent & Arrogant) "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven thou", I said, "art sure no craven, ghastly, grim, and ancient raven, wandering from the nightly shore. Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore?" Quoth the raven, (Vividly, yet Indifferent) "Nevermore". (Narrator jumps surprised, eyes wide open; Noise & Echo react with jumps, Noise Spontaneous, Echo Artificial) Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore; for we cannot help agreeing that no living human being ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door, bird or beast upon the sculptured bust just above his chamber door, with such name as "Nevermore". (Narrator Suspicious, but turning back into indifference) But the raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only that one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. (Narrator Indifferent) Nothing further then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered; till I scarcely more than muttered: (Narrator Muttering low & slowly) "Other friends have flown before; on the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before." Then the bird said, (Vividly, yet Indifferent) "nevermore". (Narrator jumps again, so do Noise & Echo, same ways) (Narrator Quickly) Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, (Loud ~ Surprised & Frightened, Quickly, but not much) "Doubtless", said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store, caught from some unhappy master, whom unmerciful disaster followed fast and followed faster, till his songs one burden bore, -- till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore of "never -- nevermore". (Noise & Echo move arround, and take places) But the raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling, straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door; then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking, fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore, what this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore meant in croaking "nevermore". (Narrator Frightened & Suspicious, & Sleepy; Noise & Echo keep still) Thus I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing to the fowl, whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; this and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining on the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated over, (Narrator Dreamy) but whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating over she shall press, ah, nevermore!

IV Enter Seraphim Two

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor. (Bitter, Not-Angry) "Wretch", I cried, "thy God hath lent thee -- by these angels he hath sent thee respite -- respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, O quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!" Quoth the raven, (Low, yet High-Piched) "Nevermore!". (Narrator Angry, Quick, but not too much, & Deep) "Prophet!", said I, "thing of evil! -- prophet still, if bird or devil! Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -- on this home by horror haunted -- tell me truly, I implore: (Honestly Questioning) is there -- is there balm in Gilead? -- tell me -- tell me I implore!". Quoth the raven, (Indifferent) "Nevermore". (Quickly, but not too much) "Prophet!", said I, "thing of evil -- prophet still, if bird or devil! By that heaven that bends above us -- by that God we both adore -- (Anxiously Curious) tell this soul with sorrow laden, if, within the distant Aidenn, it shall clasp a sainted maiden, whom the angels name Lenore -- (Dreamy) clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels name Lenore?". Quoth the raven, (Indifferent) "Nevermore". (Very Angry, Screaming) "Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting -- (Screaming louder) "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! (Hysterical) Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! -- quit the bust above my door! (Bright Lightning) Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!" (Loud Thunder). (Brief Suspense) Quoth the raven, (Indifferent) "Nevermore".

Narrator takes sit again

(Narrator Still, but now Tormented, With a Crazy Look in the Eyes; Slowly) And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting on the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; and his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming. And the lamplight over him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; and my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor shall be lifted -- nevermore!

[imagem colhida no Google ~
~ não tenho nenhum vínculo
com a Arcane Octane Magazine]

sábado, setembro 05, 2009

'Uga o dragão & Lila a tigresita

A gata chegou aqui em casa, faz uma semana amanhã. Leoazinha da cor do âmbar ao sol, com rajadas carameladas, e os olhos amarelinho-pálido, quase verdes. Minha criança tem quatro meses, e ainda é filhote. Se amarra em brincar de "a grande caçadora da selva"! -- espero colocar fotos em breve.

Alegria da casa!


domingo, abril 12, 2009

I know my love

Lyrics & Music By: The Chieftains

(A carreira de alguns termina, a de outros começa ... 1990-&-poucos.)

I know my love by his way of walking
And I know my love by his way of talking
And I know my love dressed in a suit of blue
And if my love leaves me, what will I do?

_ [chorus]
_ And still she cried, "I love him the best,
_ And a troubled mind, sure can know no rest"
_ And still she cried, "Bonny boys are few,
_ And if my love leaves me, what will I do?"

There is a dance house in Maradyke
And there my true love goes every night
He takes a strange girl upon his knee
Well now don't you think that that vexes me?

_ [chorus]


If my love knew I can wash and wring
If my love knew I can sew and spin
I'd make a coat of the finest kind
But the want of money sure leaves me behind

_ [chorus]

I know my love is an arrant rover
I know he'll wander the wild world over
In dear old Ireland he'll no longer tarry
An American girl he's sure to marry

_ [chorus]

_ [chorus]
_ What will I do?


Marcadores: ,

sábado, abril 11, 2009

Hibernian song

The "Hibernian song"
was written to a friend,
from the Online Literature Forums

(It has no melody;
up till now.)

Romans never reached Ireland.
But they must have dreamed of it.

I imagine a Roman man on the shore of Wales,
with a local traitor, who would be telling him:
"There's a land beyond this sea, sire,
a land full of pots of gold, a land
of enchanted princesses, and green hills ..."

This Roman still looks at the sea,
and thinks with himself that mighty Rome
will someday conquer all the lands,
and I might find, beyond these shores,
a Hibernian princess to sit at my side,
and learn of the stories of my ancestors ...


& he looses himself in a dream
of a cloudy mind and tears held,
and he wakes up in the XXIst century,
at the other side of the Atlantic . . .

In a land called America.

Rio de Janeiro,
11 de abril--

sexta-feira, abril 10, 2009


E esta é Narica. Não queria tirar foto de jeito nenhum, mas eu peguei ela, no cafuné! :D


Quatro gatas. & Mais um~

Faz muito tempo, Cora Gato e o velho Borba sumiram. Não houve gatos com quem eu tivesse amizade, até, dentre essas quatro, duas.

Duas delas não me deixam nelas pôr mãos: Cauda-malhada & Capucho. Et duas que deixam: a menos tímida, Narica, e a tímida, Testa-pingada.

Aqui vai uma foto da Pingada ...

Os felinos vivem menos do que homens. Muitas gerações se passaram, entre o Listra e a Cora, e a Pingada e a Narica.

É bom ter amigos felinos. Eles são amorosos, e eu sou um ser carente.

Não me vejo no meio de vinte gatos. Mas duas amigas é uma quantidade boa, e que não me exaure. / Pois, todas as noites, quando chego em casa, lá estão elas (a Pingada com mais freqüência do que a Narica, Pingada é mais fiel, e menos independente ...). Tenho que passar tempo com elas. Gatos pedem carinho. É muito bom ser amigo de gatos ... eles mostram que gostam de você.

Tem um pequeno leão também no prédio onde trabalho ... O nome dele é Tonhão. Eu ainda não o chamei de Antônio, mas pretendo, se tiver oportunidade. Ele é hospitaleiro.

quinta-feira, abril 09, 2009


Sim: xadrez!
EXTRAordinário ..

M. C. Escher (vd. Wiki) foi ilustrador geômetra holandês. Este tabuleiro, ao que tudo indica, é czeco ... Parece coisa do Mauritz, mas não é. -- O mais interessante é que a lógica do jogo é perfeita, ou seja, o tabuleiro funciona! Que pena que não fui eu que inventei isto! Me põe um passo aquém dos gênios do meu tempo ...

Marcadores: , , , ,

Dance Tonight

Paul McCartney
"Memory almost Full"

Everybody gonna dance tonight
Everybody gonna feel alright
Everybody gonna dance around tonight

Everybody gonna dance around
Everybody gonna hit the ground
Everybody gonna dance around tonight

Well you can come on to my place if you want to
You can do anything you want to do

Everybody gonna dance tonight
Everybody gonna feel alright
Everybody gonna dance around tonight


Well you can come on to my place if you want to
You can do anything you want to do

Everybody gonna stamp their feet
Everybody gonna feel the beat
Everybody gonna dance around tonight


Everybody gonna dance tonight
Everybody gonna feel alright
Everybody gonna dance around tonight

Everybody gonna jump and shout
Everybody gonna sing it out
Everybody gonna dance around tonight

Well you can come on to my place if you want to
You can do anything you want to do

Everybody gonna dance tonight
Everybody gonna feel alright
Everybody gonna dance around tonight
Everybody gonna dance around tonight
Everybody gonna feel alright tonight