Almost in right time
1179, May 23rd
With the heat wave that arives tomorrow they will…
Just light
Seen from down upwards the palace is more imponent
Nature is overwhelming
High blood pression
I will be there, today!
Did you see the high standards of my wristwatch?
Life is a cross
"Brovenósets Potyomkin"
Dear Pills,
With a beautiful lantana around why do you smell t…
Clothes are already dry
SEAHORSE
Hidden surprises
Through underground galleries never before visited
National Day of Portugal, June 10th
Rural shelter
Rural bulwark
Orchard of sour cherries
Sardines, basils and more tourists
After all São Gonçalo of Amarante always performs…
Green versus brown
Backs to Lisbon with the tongue out
INTRUSION
The chap ran away!!!
I don't fancy fried codfish today
MUSEU DA ÁGUA
"The Dark Side of The Moon"
Fadista no longer needs us
A Padaria Portuguesa
Cidade ORIGINAL
Alojamento Local (AL)
The Queen is going to walk on an olive tree flower…
FIRST YEAR
How old are we?
Long wait
I see a cock' shadow at the artwork's back
Now we already want to be with ducks company
Rhododendron
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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THE MINCH


What you distrust is often wrong
I understand that now
Your tattoos so prominent
I thought I could spot them
Through your clothes
Talk of jewelry, mention of
A gold dagger, a woman's dagger
A fisherman found in his net
Toward the close of the day, the fish vanished…
Potatoes
Buckies and spoots
But no one eats limpets…
Rain the sound of dropping dead insects
No detail uninspected
For a moment, a spit of light
On the woodpile, tawny birch,
Fawns parading through fern---
The wind was bitter from the east,
Your body on mine, pressing down,
A floral remenbrance…
Drugstore corridors…
A streetcar
Rambling past the avenue
Over the cliff and into the ocean---
But to answer, I always
Thought of you as Scottish
Because you look Scottish
///
O MINCH
Aquilo de que desconfias está frequentemente errado
Percebo isso agora
As tuas tatuagens são tão proeminentes
Que pensei poder identificá-las
Sob as tuas roupas
Falo de jóias, destaco
Um punhal de ouro, um punhal de senhora
Um pescador encontrado na rede
Ao fim do dia, o peixe desaparecido…
Batatas
Veados e pássaros
E ninguém come as lapas…
Chove barulho de insectos mortos a caírem
Nenhum pormenor ficou por inspecionar
Por um momento, uma cuspidela de luz
Na pilha de lenha, a bétula fulva,
Veados a desfilarem nas samambaias---
O vento de leste soprava amargo,
O teu corpo sobre o meu, a deslizar para baixo,
Uma memória floral…
Corredores de drogaria…
Um eléctrico
Divagava pela avenida
Sobre a falésia em direcção ao mar---
Mas para te responder, sempre
Pensei que fosses escocesa
Porque pareces escocesa
by Robert VANDERMOLEN, in CALIBANonline #9, 2019 May 23
(Portuguese translated by Armando TABORDA)
(photographs taken from Internet; edited by Armando TABORDA)
I understand that now
Your tattoos so prominent
I thought I could spot them
Through your clothes
Talk of jewelry, mention of
A gold dagger, a woman's dagger
A fisherman found in his net
Toward the close of the day, the fish vanished…
Potatoes
Buckies and spoots
But no one eats limpets…
Rain the sound of dropping dead insects
No detail uninspected
For a moment, a spit of light
On the woodpile, tawny birch,
Fawns parading through fern---
The wind was bitter from the east,
Your body on mine, pressing down,
A floral remenbrance…
Drugstore corridors…
A streetcar
Rambling past the avenue
Over the cliff and into the ocean---
But to answer, I always
Thought of you as Scottish
Because you look Scottish
///
O MINCH
Aquilo de que desconfias está frequentemente errado
Percebo isso agora
As tuas tatuagens são tão proeminentes
Que pensei poder identificá-las
Sob as tuas roupas
Falo de jóias, destaco
Um punhal de ouro, um punhal de senhora
Um pescador encontrado na rede
Ao fim do dia, o peixe desaparecido…
Batatas
Veados e pássaros
E ninguém come as lapas…
Chove barulho de insectos mortos a caírem
Nenhum pormenor ficou por inspecionar
Por um momento, uma cuspidela de luz
Na pilha de lenha, a bétula fulva,
Veados a desfilarem nas samambaias---
O vento de leste soprava amargo,
O teu corpo sobre o meu, a deslizar para baixo,
Uma memória floral…
Corredores de drogaria…
Um eléctrico
Divagava pela avenida
Sobre a falésia em direcção ao mar---
Mas para te responder, sempre
Pensei que fosses escocesa
Porque pareces escocesa
by Robert VANDERMOLEN, in CALIBANonline #9, 2019 May 23
(Portuguese translated by Armando TABORDA)
(photographs taken from Internet; edited by Armando TABORDA)
cammino, Nouchetdu38, J.Garcia and 2 other people have particularly liked this photo
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Obrigada, Armando
És sempre bem-vinda, Judite!
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