domingo, 17 de novembro de 2013

PRÊMIO IVAN JUNQUEIRA








 CONCURSO DE LIVROS DE POESIA DA ACADEMIA CARIOCA DE    LETRAS DE 2013 - PRÊMIO IVAN JUNQUEIRA



O PRIMEIRO LUGAR COUBE AO LIVRO ARÍETE DE RICARDO VIEIRA LIMA



sexta-feira, 15 de novembro de 2013

PORTO (IN)SEGURO




AT THE HARBOUR ( Michael Dunford/ Betty Thatcher)


Out the daybreak to the sun
Seas are drifting glass
The tides were turning into the storm
Winds were moving fast
Women waiting at the harbour
Silent stand around
Weather storms another day
For men the sea had found
Fishermen were laying nets
The barrels spread the bait
The seagulls warningg echoed round
Winds that wouldn't wait
People gathered at the harbour
Waiting for the tide
Eyes are closed against the spray
And tears they cannot hide
Hulls were creaking crashing sails
Rains were slating down
The oilskins flapping, decks awash
Slanting turning round
Thunder roaring at the harbour
Women drawn in fear
Huddle up to wait the time
And pray the sky will clear
Howling winds and the raging waves
Cracked upon the boats
And torn from safety, torn from life
Men with little hope
Ghostly echoes at the harbour
Whispering of death
Women weeping holding hands
Of those they still have left
Chorus:
Shadows falling at the harbour
Women stand around
Weather storms another way
For men the sea have drowned





Saveiros (Nelson Motta)


Nem bem a noite terminou
Vão os saveiros para o mar
Levam no dia que amanhece
As mesmas esperanças
Do dia que passou
Quantos partiram de manhã
Quem sabe quantos vão voltar
Só quando o sol descansar
E se os ventos deixarem
Os barcos vão chegar
Quantas histórias pra contar
Em cada vela que aparece
Um canto de alegria
De quem venceu o mar


   Faça a comparação entre as duas letras, que têm o mesmo tema.  

quinta-feira, 7 de novembro de 2013

LOU REED, THAT OLD MAN

My Old Man
When I was a young boy in Brooklyn
Going to public school
During recess in the concrete playground
They lined us up by twos
In alphabetical order, Reagan, Reed and Russo
I still remember the names
And stickball and stoopball
Were the only games that we played
And I wanted to be like my old man
I wanted to grow up just like my old man
I wanted to be like my old man
I wanted to dress like
I wanted to be just like
I wanted to act like my old man
I wanted to be like
I wanted to act like
I wanted to be just like my old man
And then like everyone else I started to grow
And I didn't want to be like my father anymore
I was sick if his bullying
And having to hide under a desk on the floor
And when he beat my mother
It made me so mad I could choke
And I didn't want to be like my old man
I didn't even want to look like my old man
I didn't even want to seem like my old man
A son watches his father
Being cruel to his mother
And makes a vow to return only when
He is so much richer
In every way so much bigger
That the old man will never hit anyone again
Like my old man X4
And can you believe what he said to me
He said, "Lou, act like a man"
Why don't you act just like a man
Act like your daddy
Act like a man
Why don't you act like a man
Like your old man
Like my old man


     Nesta letra, vemos a afirmação e a negação se misturarem, de forma que você não saiba exatamente
se é uma ou se é outra, ou se são as duas. Não há a ironia de "Mirem-se nestas mulheres de Atenas", verso que nega por meio da afirmativa. Aqui nesta letra, mais direta e narrativa, repleta de marcas temporais (when, during, then), observemos o valor do imperativo, que, por coincidência (?) aparece em Father and son (mais de uma vez neste blog). O imperativo, ele sim é irônico, pois exprime um desejo ou uma ordem,
sabendo, de antemão, que ocorrerá a inversão.      


Marcus Vinicius Quiroga