tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65254118263661002982011-04-22T23:30:00.764+01:00Mariamarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12115388821218017309noreply@blogger.comBlogger141100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525411826366100298.post-56520175096579762362008-01-02T14:57:00.000Z2008-01-02T15:30:59.285Z<a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/R3uuFfNiUtI/AAAAAAAAACU/WLZm1jz0N8k/s1600-h/84%5B1%5D.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150902008129147602" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/R3uuFfNiUtI/AAAAAAAAACU/WLZm1jz0N8k/s320/84%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;">Quero tanto dizer adeus</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;">e não consigo</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;">Quero tanto que não sejas meu e já o és</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Como um perpetuo delírio</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;">Que me aprisionou de vez.</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;">Quisera eu sair, libertar-me</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;">De tudo aquilo que sonhei e hoje tenho</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;">De tudo aquilo que desejei</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;">e agora é meu.</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;">Mas como não o serás, agora eu deixo</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;">Como um delírio que me assombra</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;">e me persegue</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;">Quisera eu dizer que já não quero</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;">Quisera eu dizer que não preciso.</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;">Quem sabe se será feitiço</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;">Aquilo que por ti sinto</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;">e o que por mim sentes</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;">nesta quimera...</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;">Agora que tenho alma e ser e sinto</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;">Quero voltar ao ser oco que eu era.</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;">E ficar para sempre assim</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;">incandescente</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;">E ficar assim nesta agonia eternamente.</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;">Quisera eu saber </span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;">e não diria</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;">o quanto eu te amo</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#6600cc;">sem que me impeças...</span> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6525411826366100298-5652017509657976236?l=infinitude-infinitude.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Mariamarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12115388821218017309noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525411826366100298.post-441078263436526032007-11-06T23:04:00.000Z2007-11-06T23:22:43.412Z<a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/RzD3LHJjA0I/AAAAAAAAACM/_fA6Ch8HKjY/s1600-h/200290778-001[1].jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129871745844708162" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/RzD3LHJjA0I/AAAAAAAAACM/_fA6Ch8HKjY/s400/200290778-001%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Hoje ofereceste-me flores.</div><br /><div>Rosas.</div><br /><div>Rosas sem espinhos como eu não o sou.</div><br /><div>Flores.</div><br /><div>A perfeição da natureza.</div><br /><div>Como tantas outras coisas tão perfeitas...</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6525411826366100298-44107826343652603?l=infinitude-infinitude.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Mariamarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12115388821218017309noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525411826366100298.post-88929936207642215532007-11-02T18:29:00.000Z2007-11-02T18:37:22.494Z<a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/RyttzHJjAzI/AAAAAAAAACE/DK86oZbnmRc/s1600-h/CAIXKVUB.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128313325551289138" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 132px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 219px" height="328" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/RyttzHJjAzI/AAAAAAAAACE/DK86oZbnmRc/s400/CAIXKVUB.jpg" width="223" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330033;"><em>"Transformamos a discórdia com os outros em retórica,</em></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330033;"><em>mas a discórdia connosco próprios em poesia."</em></span></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>W. B. Yeats, «Anima Hominis»</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6525411826366100298-8892993620764221553?l=infinitude-infinitude.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Mariamarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12115388821218017309noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525411826366100298.post-57496975036488710952007-11-01T23:25:00.000Z2007-11-01T23:29:37.012Z<a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/RyphS3JjAyI/AAAAAAAAAB8/z6Py_XtoVcw/s1600-h/tn_paysages3d-09[1].jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128018102384263970" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/RyphS3JjAyI/AAAAAAAAAB8/z6Py_XtoVcw/s400/tn_paysages3d-09%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;color:#330099;"><em>Quero-te não por quem és</em></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;color:#330099;"><em>mas por quem sou</em></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;color:#330099;"><em>quando estou contigo...</em></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6525411826366100298-5749697503648871095?l=infinitude-infinitude.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Mariamarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12115388821218017309noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525411826366100298.post-35476260517483724852007-10-03T13:40:00.000+01:002007-10-03T13:51:33.633+01:00<a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/RwOQOKCLBgI/AAAAAAAAAB0/CgMMtuMT9aw/s1600-h/105[1].jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117092174509049346" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/RwOQOKCLBgI/AAAAAAAAAB0/CgMMtuMT9aw/s400/105%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;color:#3366ff;">Como não conseguia encontrar palavras, pedi emprestado...</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;color:#3366ff;"></span></div><br /><div><a name="Ser poeta"><span style="color:#3333ff;">Ser poeta </span></a><br /><span style="color:#3333ff;"><br />Ser poeta é ser mais alto, é ser maior<br />Do que os homens! Morder como quem beija!<br />É ser mendigo e dar como quem seja<br />Rei do Reino de Aquém e de Além Dor!<br /><br />É ter de mil desejos o esplendor<br />E não saber sequer que se deseja!<br />É ter cá dentro um astro que flameja,<br />É ter garras e asas de condor!<br /><br />É ter fome, é ter sede de Infinito!<br />Por elmo, as manhãs de oiro e de cetim...<br />É condensar o mundo num só grito!<br /><br /><span style="color:#333399;"></span><em><span style="color:#333399;">E é amar-te, assim, perdidamente...<br />É seres alma, e sangue, e vida em mim<br />E dizê-lo cantando a toda a gente!</span> </em></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#3333ff;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#3333ff;">Florbela Espanca</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6525411826366100298-3547626051748372485?l=infinitude-infinitude.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Mariamarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12115388821218017309noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525411826366100298.post-25371420601090785782007-09-29T00:36:00.000+01:002007-09-29T00:44:45.160+01:00<a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/Rv2RhKCLBfI/AAAAAAAAABs/Q3nrtVmeQRE/s1600-h/219[1].jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115404750577927666" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/Rv2RhKCLBfI/AAAAAAAAABs/Q3nrtVmeQRE/s400/219%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Não sei, não sabe ninguém</div><br /><div>porque canto fado, neste tom magoado de dor e de pranto . . . </div><br /><div>e neste momento, </div><br /><div>todo sofrimento</div><br /><div>eu sinto que a alma cá dentro se acalma nos versos que canto </div><br /><div>foi deus, que deu luz aos olhos</div><br /><div>perfumou as rosas,</div><br /><div>deu ouro ao sol e prata ao luar</div><br /><div>ai, foi deus que me pôs no peito</div><br /><div>um rosário de penas que vou desfiando e choro a cantar</div><br /><div>e pôs as estrelas no céu</div><br /><div>fez o espaço sem fim</div><br /><div>deu luto as andorinhas ai . . .</div><br /><div>e deu-me esta voz a mim.</div><br /><div>Se canto,</div><br /><div>não sei porque canto</div><br /><div>misto de ternura, saudade, ventura e talvez de amor mas sei</div><br /><div>que cantando</div><br /><div>sinto o mesmo quando,</div><br /><div>me vem um desgosto e o pranto no rosto nos deixa melhor</div><br /><div>foi deus,</div><br /><div>que deu voz ao vento</div><br /><div>luz no firmamento e pôs o azul nas ondas do mar</div><br /><div>ai foi deus, que me pôs no peito</div><br /><div>um rosário de penas que vou desfiando e choro a cantar</div><br /><div>fez o poeta o rouxinol</div><br /><div>pôs no campo o alecrim</div><br /><div>deu flores à primavera ai e deu-me esta voz a mim</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>(Amália Rodrigues)</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6525411826366100298-2537142060109078578?l=infinitude-infinitude.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Mariamarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12115388821218017309noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525411826366100298.post-74380914471757219972007-09-25T23:36:00.000+01:002007-09-25T23:41:25.142+01:00<a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/RvmOWaCLBeI/AAAAAAAAABk/zM-D8dflI2Y/s1600-h/tn_paysages3d-30[1].jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114275367452607970" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/RvmOWaCLBeI/AAAAAAAAABk/zM-D8dflI2Y/s400/tn_paysages3d-30%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6600cc;">Choravas tu quando na vida entraste,<br />E riam todos porque tu nascias,<br />Não te vás a partir como chegaste,<br />Chorem todos então, e só tu rias.</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#6600cc;">(...)</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6525411826366100298-7438091447175721997?l=infinitude-infinitude.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Mariamarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12115388821218017309noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525411826366100298.post-41496515002377613872007-09-19T23:40:00.000+01:002007-09-19T23:43:50.253+01:00<a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/RvGmETZ6elI/AAAAAAAAABc/t686DUBh4KM/s1600-h/22[1].jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112049644900874834" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/RvGmETZ6elI/AAAAAAAAABc/t686DUBh4KM/s200/22%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Hoje não.</div><br /><div>Hoje não consigo escrever.</div><br /><div>Amanhã...</div><br /><div>Talvez...</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6525411826366100298-4149651500237761387?l=infinitude-infinitude.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Mariamarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12115388821218017309noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525411826366100298.post-34911034747821095742007-09-15T22:36:00.000+01:002007-09-15T23:31:24.552+01:00<a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/RuxdKZ_vWwI/AAAAAAAAABM/1ITfMY5LKOA/s1600-h/76[2].jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110562110516976386" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/RuxdKZ_vWwI/AAAAAAAAABM/1ITfMY5LKOA/s200/76%5B2%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="color:#330099;">Nem assim consigo uma resposta...<br />Para onde foste, onde estás agora?<br />Qual é esse outro plano que me querem fazer crer que tu estás?<br />...<br />Continuas sempre perto de mim.<br />Sempre.<br />Aqui.</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6525411826366100298-3491103474782109574?l=infinitude-infinitude.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Mariamarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12115388821218017309noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525411826366100298.post-11905506399373834202007-09-11T23:45:00.000+01:002007-09-12T00:08:15.898+01:00<a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/RucdwKn7qcI/AAAAAAAAAAU/USIQqDfxs_k/s1600-h/Canção+do+mar.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109085015597885890" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 230px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 155px" height="165" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/RucdwKn7qcI/AAAAAAAAAAU/USIQqDfxs_k/s200/Can%C3%A7%C3%A3o+do+mar.jpg" width="239" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;">Ó noite saudosa</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;">Repleta de luz e movimento,</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;">De chuva, de vento,</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;">Noite de invernia anunciada,</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;">Noite de invernia desejada...</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;">Agora sim,</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;">Contigo e com o mar</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;">Enfim</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;">Neste compasso de espera</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;">Consigo recomeçar.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;">E agora que regressou a calma</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;">Vou deixar vento</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;">As tuas cinzas levar.</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6525411826366100298-1190550639937383420?l=infinitude-infinitude.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Mariamarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12115388821218017309noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525411826366100298.post-1408641857859331702007-09-11T16:08:00.000+01:002007-09-12T00:10:59.580+01:00<a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/Rucgaqn7qdI/AAAAAAAAAAc/EBYNR85BIDc/s1600-h/dessin.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109087944765581778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/Rucgaqn7qdI/AAAAAAAAAAc/EBYNR85BIDc/s320/dessin.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Ainda me sinto no vácuo, no limbo...<br /><br />Até quando?!<br /><br />A serenitude pasma-me e me petrifica.<br /><br />E no entanto continuo a andar.<br /><br />Nesta infinitude finita.<br /><br />Amanhã é outro dia.<br /><br />Nada como um dia atrás do outro...<br /><br /><br /><br />Nec pluribus impar.<br /><br />Nec plus ultra.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6525411826366100298-140864185785933170?l=infinitude-infinitude.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Mariamarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12115388821218017309noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525411826366100298.post-4359633961594041392007-08-31T20:06:00.000+01:002007-09-12T23:27:50.500+01:00<a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/Ruhn2J_vWvI/AAAAAAAAABE/xX3xdoF9wrU/s1600-h/593794.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109447957345688306" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/Ruhn2J_vWvI/AAAAAAAAABE/xX3xdoF9wrU/s400/593794.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#330033;">No cristal da memória</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#330033;">Escutam ainda, pálidas,</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#330033;">as vozes de outrora.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#330033;">Puras horas sem fim</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#330033;">Que num olhar encerra</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#330033;">A tarde que irrompe na garganta.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#330033;">Simplesmente</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#330033;">Tenta ser</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#330033;">Pedra, areia, ou silêncio</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#330033;">Que agora poema</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#330033;">Me encerra os lábios.</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6525411826366100298-435963396159404139?l=infinitude-infinitude.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Mariamarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12115388821218017309noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525411826366100298.post-73966525260247892007-08-31T19:32:00.000+01:002007-09-12T23:23:48.572+01:00<a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/Ruhm0p_vWtI/AAAAAAAAAA0/3sOcg-2siwQ/s1600-h/sol+azul.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109446832064256722" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/Ruhm0p_vWtI/AAAAAAAAAA0/3sOcg-2siwQ/s400/sol+azul.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"><em>As minhas outras palavras</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"><em>São aquelas que não nascem</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"><em>Que não morrem</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"><em>Na infinitude do Tempo finito</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"><em>Do tempo que não sabe existir.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"><em>E para lá de tudo</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"><em>Do Presente</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"><em>Do Passado</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"><em>Há ainda a ausência</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"><em>Do que persiste e insiste</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"><em>E teima em lutar...</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"><em>Será que o Presente</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"><em>Não se confunde com o Passado?</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"><em>Será que o Futuro</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"><em>Não é um Presente adiado?</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"><em>«Tempo, imesurável tempo, </em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"><em>tão fugazes são as espécies que te medem...»</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"><em>(não me lembra agora o autor)</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"><em>E eis que voltei a escrever...</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"><em>Como no Passado;</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"><em>Como no Futuro.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"><em>E não fui ver o mar...</em></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6525411826366100298-7396652526024789?l=infinitude-infinitude.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Mariamarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12115388821218017309noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6525411826366100298.post-54235922640548856272007-08-26T00:11:00.000+01:002007-09-12T23:20:48.480+01:00<a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/RuhmLZ_vWsI/AAAAAAAAAAs/gaEouMn194E/s1600-h/tnNuvens-w15[1].jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109446123394652866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_vtFFx0rBzlg/RuhmLZ_vWsI/AAAAAAAAAAs/gaEouMn194E/s320/tnNuvens-w15%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Agora existe o vazio. O espaço por preencher que me acompanhou em todos estes anos... e agora o que fazer na tua ausência?</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6525411826366100298-5423592264054885627?l=infinitude-infinitude.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Mariamarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12115388821218017309noreply@blogger.com3