Moon of March

Moon of March
.....
I take and bring the brook murmurs.
Only I can sift the fog:
when main shy sun
manufactures Rainbow,
truth even,
the Artist I am:
I play the clouds!
****
... however, intrepid
and torrid to the hearts,
it is so I shudder to
the night whistle
the ferrules of the longing
when the absence
it is a fear.

HSSoares© 2007

The Tears

The tears
Let us exalt the tears. In the skin of the veins
Good Morning, waters!
Gratitude to the face, the colours
in the furrow in the eyes. Because this ardour, this
fear of the stepped herb?
Tears,
they fall asleep with me
Sweet, you manufacture the quietness and solitude
in the calm white blue of its abbreviated colour.
that far away they are leaving in the bitter air, under the impulse
delirious from transformation in extinct laws
Ironies or joys. Role or fake
tireless works or pains, like this
they conspire in other doors, other mysteries.
I lose them among conversations, the sleep, the love.
the deserted eyes absence consumes them.
Let us glory in the tears of vain splendours.
THE TEARS – II
What they will be then? A suspended line
in the curtains fold? A lighted knife
on the skin from lime? Or an air dislocation
in open tiles? And they will see borning
the sun in dry fountains of the hills? No
already in my eyes they will shudder to the wind,
not even to body rhythm. They return to the gods marrows,
kind joy of the water
fresh, sweet and pure, to the imperishable water
initial, which ever moves in land?
How they will survive then? In the noise
of colours? In white reflexes in portraits
of the dead men? In woven frights of smokes?
Oh, my tears, stay. Live on light.


HSS

Digital Art

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the instante of a glance

Instant of a Glance


It plays in the glance
Of butterflies wings
to-and-fro seduction.
Oh! Breeze fluttering almost tactile,
in a forget-me-not branch.

A moonlight shawl, full moon
shaking the waters
brightening fleetingly a light instant.

Playful glance
plays of love.
Child venturing in dangers
of one more construction set.

Brilliance... childlike glance.
Magician taking away from top hat
crepe paper pigeons and flowers
chromatic scarves in tenuous thread,
illusion of hauled illusory look
play of seduction.

Oh! Sweet enchantment of presence
that illuminates doors
where someone waits.
And there’s a sun between the lips.

HSS

Enigma/ Angel

Enigma

Deaf stain of Time
rolls in to Abyss.
Gentle night's shadow
in quiet sceneries.
The long dogs howl,
at night, startles me.
Consumes death hours.

Angel

I announce the Angel. To the night-birds, I announce.
It will come when the night flowers confide for constellations,
gathering the whole night mystery,
for between winds, trees and distressed gardens.
I announce the Angel. To the night-birds I announce.
It will come like a thunder or like symphony - sweets, memories brought from skies.
I announce all, announce
The white Angel of humble poetry.

Striptease

Striptease


" Of me, I took away piece for piece:
The clothes
wrapped from past
Heart
for not waiting any appeal
The sex
between silent firestones
The love
condemned to passion
The blood
red bird gushing frightened
The words
before they escaped from the ears
The skin
with already discolored prints
The arms
for not heating more the body
The legs
that did not want to carries me in this life
The hairs
For a renewal like a light cloud
The eyes
for not darkens to the day brightness
The hands
for not looking the ceased love face
The nose
to forget the smell of images not reminded
The thought
that was injuring me the dawns
The ears
not hearing the sleepless silences
The feet
which, would always be going to look you, as injured bird...
The fingers
that never undid my knots
My singing
that slides sadly before the hidden light
and finally
finally my body
for not bent gathering the shells of time…”

HSS

À Luz

À luz

Jamais haverá guerra
entre duas espadas.
Duas virgens se espancam
de desejo nacarado.
Duas espadas se cumprimentam
e delas o embate
de duas virgens impenetráveis.

é reluzente o choque entre duas espadas.


Hss

Farewell Xana

VIOLATED ROSE
( To anonymous “Rosa” )

My pain does not live at my home,
but in a garden of centuries running
in his scathing uproar. The time, on fire,
the talent of this hour is suffering.
Of the wide city avenues,
the cars cross twisted line—
riders in motorbikes, without age
they came to approach me in my door.
One took me the clock. Another… The ring.
My golden cord broke.
And the inconstant room i smiled
while having my glance inside his.
Withdrew of the sash reddened weapon.
Kissed... Gave me the rose and my life.

HSS

Hiding Place

From " Into Darkness" by Hanna Wilmmer

Duet Hanna Wilmmer/ HSSoares

Rose ( from Rose Book )

Rose


My Garden's Rose, that burn in my Pot,
my enthusiasm daughter, my love martyr!
My great selfish passion strays the petals,
inner secret inhales you.

So, we are alone — I, fickle cicada,
you, ruby-red butterfly in flower—
you have with me a vine leaf,
to preserve beauty and bashfulness...

So what! so naked , fresh and reddish,
rose of Temptation, Impudicity,
you are the Sin itself:
and there is virtue in sinning...

— sin dying in you, bleeding in your thorns,
redeeming in a Wish the mean wishes,
enjoying itself for the Sense of smell
and loving for the Glance...

HSS

To Ludwig van Beethoven

For L. Beethoven


I hand over my body to your silence waters,
the arches of your hovering music ,
where the land voices, in his pasture
of clouds, they gleam like tears.
I do not feel more injured not even shocks.
My blood gushes slowly the violins.
And a light crucifies me on air
of rain, for your roses cut.

These roses that alter our day,
and they open in the afternoon the fingers plea
they are freed, birds, of clay.

touching, with his tortured form,
on the surface of blue thing contained and uncurbed
in this adage from stone and moonlight.

Portuguese Soul

"

Luis Vaz de Camoes

Let Love search for new arts, a new talent
to kill me, and new indifference;
for it cannot take away my hopes,
for it will have difficulty in taking from me what I do not have.
See with what hopes I maintain myself
See how dangerous my safety is!
For I do not fear contrasts or changes,
sailing on the rough sea, my vessel lost.
But, although there cannot be any grief
where there is no hope, Love hides
from me an evil that kills and cannot be seen.
For there are days that have placed in my soul
an I know not what, that is born I know not where,
appears I know not how and hurts I know not why.

El Don de la Amistad

El Don de la amistad


Amigo no tiene dia para hablar
Toda hora es hora hache.
Amigo con defecto no existe,
Todo es bueno que se avista.
Y mas que todo todo es maravilla.
Hay los que son como islas,
Los cercados de amigos de verdad
En las aguas de la amistad.
Este Don es de pocos, ya se lo sabe.
Voluntad que se cabe en si y
Sin alarde, mas que invade
La vida, sus percances y castigos,
Ese mundo tan antiguo
Deshecho en una palabra sola: Amigo!

New Life

>"

Invasion

Invasion


With what right
you invade my beaches
and snatch me
in sea horses
treading on shells
jumping streams?

With what right
you show me songs
and you shine moonlight
what I pretend not to see and
I do not want to listen?

With what right
you blow,
unknown wind
whirl,
transparent garment
covering my nakedness?

The words
they injure,
make their marks,
they remain:
moulded stones
for waters
bathing them.

Therefore
I ask you:
because you dare
to invade my beaches
and penetrate me
shell,
sheltering
of the terrestrial winds?

HSS

This is just amazing : )

Ate Breve Eduardo

Prado Coelho, o homem dos "apetites insaciáveis"

O professor e ensaísta Eduardo Prado Coelho, que hoje faleceu em Lisboa, deixa a memória de um homem de "insaciáveis apetites" que "apreciava tudo o que andava no ar".



Os seus interesses dividiam-se com igual e elevada intensidade, pelos livros, pela política, pelas coisas simples da vida, boa mesa incluída.

Era, desde logo, "um consumidor cultural insaciável, um comilão",tinha uma paixão pelo cinema e pela fotografia.

Tinha uma sede imensa de saber.

Ate Breve Eduardo...

Os politicos honestos sao como os unicornios...
Dizem que existem... mas eu nao vi nenhum!

Honests politicians are like unicorns...
they say they exist... But i haven't seen one!

Craddle of filth

">


Thank you Prof. : )

Words-None

Haiku

The moon appears.

sows of brilliance the web

that spider weaves.


The dew drop,

graceful, conquers the rose

without much work.



The gale disrupts.

Groups of birds

stretch their wings.


In city silence
night, black cage,
wraps my room with light.

Frozen Drop

Frozen drop

Just a frozen drop
and the window is broken.
Vaguely goes
the lights of my world.

And the crack increases
in the glass of my thought.
Cutting in half
bus, persons,
persons in bus and
their distant hearts.

Another drop
and the countless fragments
from a glance that only can see
a thing each time.

They are the fragments of heart
that only can survive
to life in a only side.

Hss

Folly

Folly


Foolish act
I respect in looking for you.
Corners, tubes
bar table.

Foolish contact
that react in being.
Hard words
suffering.

Shot heart,
shut arms,
finished dreams!

Abuse, mistreat,
Ungrateful!


HSS
08/07/2007

Carmina Burana - Carl Orf

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Latin expression that designates a poetic collection of medieval anonymous texts, written in Latin and ancient German, in the first half of the century XIII. German texts are represented, but also, in less proportion, English and French. The carmina burana, “ canticles of Beuron ”, name of the Baviera Benedictine abbey, where this collection was, will have been written by goliardos or anonymous clerics, who were opposed to the ecclesiastical law in force. The poetries in the collection comment on satirical and burlesque subjects, always having under sight the customs and the religious life, privileging an ideal of life , agitating the karpe diem, where sex, alcohol is mixed, etc. In 1937, the German composer Carl Orff it was inspired in these texts for the known opera with the same title.

GOLIARDOS

Medieval literature written by clerics or Bohemian students, who were opting for a disorderly, licentious and stuffed life of reposes. Such revellers were in England, France and Germany, where this type of marginal literature was produced. The name they were known is due to the devotion to a bishop Golias, of whom they were calling themselves followers. They were celebrated goliardos like Huoh Primas of Orleans, Pierre de Blois, Gautier de Châtillon and Phillipe the Chancellor. The favorite subject of his compositions is love, in special love that does not respect social conventions nor any established moral, and the whole sort of sensual pleasures. His couples were not recognizing them like truthful poets and, since it seems obvious, were enjoying little fame between the troubadours of the court and the orthodox clerics. Almost all his compositions are hymns to the free sexual expression or to the ideological, religious and moral tyranny of the Church, without forgetting the papal power.Gradually, the clerical privileges of the goliardos have being withdrawn, up to be losing including the designation itself of goliardos, which comes to happen in the XIV century, when the term is getting confused, then, with near designations like buffoon, minstrel or segrel. The most celebrated compilation of the canticles goliardos is the Carmina Burana, texts written in the XIII century , in Bavária, translated by John Addington Symonds with the title Wine, Women, and Song (1884).

The Thinker

Rose and Silver

Rose and silver

Sulked in a corner of the wall,
supporting that clouds were dark and heavy
they were falling down from sky.
She was lovely, half silver, half color rose,
anxious for the winds
and ready for life.
But, the pleasant sun was supporting a cold war against storms
and she remained closed in herself and for the world,
in a sadness that was doing pity.
The moon arrived, bringing cheerful laminated and when they were colored,
nestled in the extremities of a parasol,
making her still more beautiful.
She whirled around, whirled around and laughed,
appreciating the movement colors.
And for the hands of the brown girl,
gained the avenue and danced for the stars,
in it rises and goes down deliriously and rhythmically.
Drunk of dawned glories,
tired and forgotten
in an desertion.
The rain fell, then, blotting shades,
dripped discolored in the streets.
Street-sweepers came and gathered the party remains.
The day could still catch sight
worried movements, silver and color of rose,
shaking slope lower,
beside a last sob of a bottle of beer.

HSS

Tired Joy

Tired joy


Today I do not want to talk about pain
not even love
I do not want thoughts
nor words
silence only
of this peace that invades me
the laziness only
of this expected rest.
Today I do not want to walk
run or even think!
My movements are lethargic
my heart is dragged, slowly.
It is not a sadness
it is not a longing.
It is only a tired joy
needing a snooze.

HSS

Way of Hope

Way of Hope

In the symmetry of hope
my boat goes round the space
where the scarce light
attracts cold time.
My dream is lit,
I alienate life's vitality
and it drives me without stratagems
from your arms/into your arms.
My pain is diluted
and, while your fingers slide
through my hair
one more infinite star is reborn.



HSS

Whales

Graceful and magnificent, humpback whales inspire awe in young and old alike. These marine mammals travel great distances to take advantage of the best breeding grounds and feeding spots. North Pacific humpbacks, for example, mate and give birth in Hawaii and then travel to Alaska each summer to feed.These gentle giants are famous for their singing abilities -- belting out seductive ballads to attract mates or to challenge other would-be suitors. But they also have other talents. Their unique hunting skill, called bubblenet feeding, involves a group of humpbacks working together to capture schools of herring. Each whale has a particular role in the process: One whale swims in a circle while blowing bubbles under a school of herring. When the bubbles rise, the school of herring can not escape and form into a tight ball in the center. Other whales vocalize -- grunting or screaming -- to scare the herring to the surface. The whales then rise with their mouths wide open to capture large amounts of fish. Trek across the oceans with these astounding creatures and discover more revealing details about their wonder-filled, watery ways.

Imperfection

Imperfection

Passion
Perfection
Seduction
Confusion
Decision
Treason
Irritation
Separation
Pardon?
No...
Haste!

HSSoares

Tribute to Timor Lorosae

I was born in Timor Lorosae in 1962 when Timor was a portuguese colony.
This is my little tribute to the land that is always in my heart and blood.

The history of Timor is excessively known.This video shows what went on after the descolonization of the territories dominated by Portugal with the revolution of April 25, 1974: the violent repression on the Timorese. From the referendum in which the Timorese manifested in a great scail on behalf of the independence (August 30, 1999) the territory is free and calls Timor Loro Sae - Timor the Nascent Sun. But not unless many tears had been spilled.

http://

My first day here. May i Welcome myself...

Day 0