Aguaceiros

Tempo quente e céu nublado

Please allow me to introduce myself
Im a man of wealth and taste
I've been around for a long, long year
Stole many a mans soul and faith
And I was round when jesus christ
Had his moment of doubt and pain
Made damn sure that pilate
Washed his hands and sealed his fate
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name
But whats puzzling you
Is the nature of my game
I stuck around st. petersburg
When I saw it was a time for a change
Killed the czar and his ministers
Anastasia screamed in vain
I rode a tank
Held a generals rank
When the blitzkrieg raged
And the bodies stank
While your kings and queens
Fought for ten decades
For the gods they made
I shouted out,
Who killed the kennedys?
When after all
It was you and me
Let me please introduce myself
Im a man of wealth and taste
And I laid traps for troubadours
Who get killed before they reached bombay
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name,
Is just the nature of my game
Just as every cop is a criminal
And all the sinners saints
As heads is tails
Just call me lucifer
cause Im in need of some restraint
So if you meet me
Have some courtesy
Have some sympathy, and some taste
Use all your well-learned politesse
Or Ill lay your soul to waste.

Céu limpo, tempo seco

This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end
Of our elaborate plans, the end
Of everything that stands, the end
No safety or surprise, the end
I'll never look into your eyes...again
Can you picture what will be
So limitless and free
Desperately in need...of some...stranger's hand
In a...desperate land
Lost in a Roman...wilderness of pain
And all the children are insane
All the children are insane
Waiting for the summer rain
The killer awoke before dawn, he put his boots on
He took a face from the ancient gallery
And he walked on down the hall
He went into the room where his sister lived, and...then he
Paid a visit to his brother, and then he
He walked on down the hall, and
And he came to a door...and he looked inside
Father, "yes son", I want to kill you
Mother...I want to...fuck you
This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end
It hurts to set you free
But you'll never follow me
The end of laughter and soft lies
The end of nights we tried to die
This is the end

The Doors, Jim Morrison

Granizo em Bratislava

A culpa não é do Sol,
se o meu corpo se queimar.
A culpa é da vontade
que eu tenho de te abraçar.

A culpa não é da praia,
se o meu corpo se ferir.
A culpa é da vontade
que tenho de te sentir.

A culpa é da vontade
que vive de dentro de mim
e só morre com a idade,
com a idade do meu fim.

A culpa não é do mar,
se o meu olhar se perder.
A culpa é da vontade
que eu tenho de te ver.

A culpa não é do vento,
se a minha voz se calar.
A culpa é do lamento
que sufoca o meu cantar.

A culpa é da vontade
que vive de dentro de mim
e só morre com a idade,
com a idade do meu fim.

(um poema do barbeiro do bairro)

A praia no inverno

O Sul de manha

Nascente em Odivelas

Neve em lisboa

Uma Imagem da familia que ainda hoje guardo, consta na tradição familiar que e do virar do sec. passado.