Selfie of the 2nd August's fortnight
Loridos Farm
Suggestion for a hot day
At full steam
Potes Mouros, Alcobertas
LOVE
Dolmen-Chapel of Alcobertas
"FOR WHOM THE BELL TOLLS"
Another perspective of the Dolmen-Chapel of Alcobe…
Night
There are days when the sky speaks to us
NATURAL SALINES OF RIO MAIOR
Don't let me fall!
Will there be any city without a fountain in Portu…
"HEAVEN CAN WAIT"
A phlegmatic cat
Carrapateira Beach, seen from the village top
Portimão Marina
LOVING SMILE - 53
Bordeira Village, church
Vila Nova de Milfontes
CROSS
Village's party
From here, Hotel Aqualuz, 9th floor, the River Sad…
Summer selfie
The blue of the light
The soul is required to watch the dune's vegetatio…
Crossing the estuary of the Sado River
open the happiness
New Obidos, outside the walls
Late afternoon
ÉMIGRÉS
Strong wind
There are no crumbs on the tables or on the paveme…
Mr Álvaro CUNHAL knew this place so well that he s…
The sand wouldn't be white, but the rocks that sus…
Between memories' mists
Life on top
Don't covet these sugar mountains because it's too…
Siesta
Loving Smile - 2
Unusual Obidos view
See also...
Group of the Visual Poets (2 photos/day, no invite needed :)
Group of the Visual Poets (2 photos/day, no invite needed :)
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Al Berto (1948-1997), at Cevènnes, 1989


WRITING IS my first address of silence
the second breaks out from the body in motion behind the words
empty long beaches where the sea never arrived
desert where the fingers murmur the last crime
to write you continuously...sand and more sand
building too high walls of nothing on the blood
this passion for the objects you kept
this skin-memory exhalating I do not know what disaster
the tongue of slimes
we spread hemlock seeds through dream´s fog
mornings arrived as a star groan
and I pursued your seaside sperm trail
other saltiness bodies cross the silence
from this address erected on the twilight precarious saliva
///
A ESCRITA É a minha primeira morada de silêncio
a segunda irrompe do corpo movendo-se por trás das palavras
extensas praias vazias onde o mar nunca chegou
deserto onde os dedos murmuram o último crime
escrever-te continuamente...areia e mais areia
construindo no sangue altíssimas paredes de nada
esta paixão pelos objectos que guardaste
esta pele-memória exalando não sei que desastre
a língua de limos
espalhávamos sementes de cicuta pelo nevoeiro dos sonhos
as manhãs chegavam como um gemido estelar
e eu perseguia teu rasto de esperma à beira-mar
outros corpos de salsugem atravessam o silêncio
desta morada erguida na precária saliva do crepúsculo
by AL BERTO, in "SEM TÍTULO E BASTANTE BREVE E OUTROS POEMAS", Edição da Assírio e Alvim em exclusivo para a FNAC, no Dia Mundial da Poesia 2009
(English translated by Armando TABORDA, 2015)
(1st edition, 2015; 2nd edition, 2017)
the second breaks out from the body in motion behind the words
empty long beaches where the sea never arrived
desert where the fingers murmur the last crime
to write you continuously...sand and more sand
building too high walls of nothing on the blood
this passion for the objects you kept
this skin-memory exhalating I do not know what disaster
the tongue of slimes
we spread hemlock seeds through dream´s fog
mornings arrived as a star groan
and I pursued your seaside sperm trail
other saltiness bodies cross the silence
from this address erected on the twilight precarious saliva
///
A ESCRITA É a minha primeira morada de silêncio
a segunda irrompe do corpo movendo-se por trás das palavras
extensas praias vazias onde o mar nunca chegou
deserto onde os dedos murmuram o último crime
escrever-te continuamente...areia e mais areia
construindo no sangue altíssimas paredes de nada
esta paixão pelos objectos que guardaste
esta pele-memória exalando não sei que desastre
a língua de limos
espalhávamos sementes de cicuta pelo nevoeiro dos sonhos
as manhãs chegavam como um gemido estelar
e eu perseguia teu rasto de esperma à beira-mar
outros corpos de salsugem atravessam o silêncio
desta morada erguida na precária saliva do crepúsculo
by AL BERTO, in "SEM TÍTULO E BASTANTE BREVE E OUTROS POEMAS", Edição da Assírio e Alvim em exclusivo para a FNAC, no Dia Mundial da Poesia 2009
(English translated by Armando TABORDA, 2015)
(1st edition, 2015; 2nd edition, 2017)
buonacoppi, , .t.a.o.n., Xata and 5 other people have particularly liked this photo
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Armando Taborda club has replied to Steve Bucknell clubSon œuvre a été traduite en français par Michel Chandeigne, qui fut son ami, et par Jean-Pierre Léger (éditions L’Escampette)
"les bateaux sont la dernière image qui nous reste pour fuir
mais seules les paroles nous enivrent
ce sont les longues flammes qui dévorent les bateaux et la mémoire
où nous voyageons
nous oublions ce qu’on nous a enseigné
et si par hasard nous ouvrions les yeux
l’un vers l’autre
nous trouverions une autre immobilité un autre abîme
un autre corps raidi
palpitant dans l’imperceptible et nocturne blessure
je passe la nuit dans la vie précaire du feu
cette rumeur de mains qui effleure le corps
endormi dans la surface du miroir
je suis saisi du désir trouble de te réveiller
et de la peur de vouloir encore tout réinventer "
Al Berto (extrait de : "Une Existence de papier"; traduction de Michel Chandeigne)
Une bien belle photo surréaliste, prise pendant son voyage dans les Cévennes
Tu en connais l'auteur, Armando,stp ?
Armando Taborda club has replied to ºLºJe te remercie ce beau texte un version Française, Leonora!
ºLº has replied to Armando Taborda clubToujours un plaisir de partager Armando ..!
Armando Taborda club has replied to ºLºSign-in to write a comment.