Francisco said the Gerês stream water is too cold,…
Consolation Prize, street bazaar
Francisco at 3D street art
"FLAGRANTE DELITRO" (*)
What changed in me?
RIPPED WOMEN
Wine Corso, some years ago
(if you are in Lisbon, don't miss)
The bicycle portal is a boom
CHAMPALIMAUD Foundation
Is there you cut your hair?
To all world's beach vacationers
Alcântara
Will there be something more photographed than the…
Fish is much better
The two brand new pontoon bridges...
"BRAINS OFF"
Inauguration of the brand new pontoon-bridge...
A glass of white wine...
A cast of the artist's hand in Murano Glass
In A-dos-Ruivos, at social events...
Carvalhal Band, playing at A-dos-Ruivos
"All animals are equal, but some animals are more…
Walking Day
Shade is smaller than trees but darker
Who see your back, recognizes your face
A few centuries were gone over this fabulous monum…
The remains of something that was...
The fisherman's wife doesn't let him fish alone
DARWIN'S CAFÉ
BIRTH
Selfie Sui Generis
"THE BEST FISH IN THE WORLD IS PORTUGUESE"
This cock crows all day
WORLD CAT DAY
SOLITUDE
The occasional shellfish catcher
Cause today is Sunday the baker doesn't make bread
...front and back, but the same taste...
Salir do Porto
Dune (15)
THE SEA STARTS HERE
Francisco First Spatial Flight
What a damn thing...
See also...
Group of the Visual Poets (2 photos/day, no invite needed :)
Group of the Visual Poets (2 photos/day, no invite needed :)
Keywords
Authorizations, license
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PLACES


Otherwise, I was watching
European mysteries on TV ---
So much summer in Sweden,
Fog in Italy, but in France
Only buildings and streets
I didn't need much money
Just some --- strolling down a lane
Under the sway of walnut trees
Carrying a towel to a county beach, swimming
Calmed me
Though it's vague now
The farmhouse I stayed in
Where my employer
Lived with two women, while I was
In a room above them --- night breezes in June
Rifting through propped windows,
Vines slinking over an abandoned garage
Plum and peach orchards beyond
Those months in his store,
Rooms of rare books, a raft of antiques ---
But I see us at a kitchen table with amber drinks
Two of us in each side, a scene someone
Should have thought looked domestic,
Dignified, a clock ticking,
Before my companions departed to their bed
And I climbed skinny stairs
A rusting lawn roller near a shed,
Neglected picking ladders ---
Great silence
From grasses to the trees down to a stream
Where I carefully studied minnows
Neither woman was interested in me, of course,
But a knew a lady in town, an artist,
Who liked to draw me on my days off
Lying on a mattress
After I left
She forwarded an article from the local paper
The women looked much older,
No makeup
He was dead
There had been an argument over money ---
I'd had one too ---
I'd begun working on a farm in Montana
By then
And wintering in Califórnia
///
LUGARES
Estava a ver os mistérios Europeus na TV,
Por assim dizer ---
Demasiado verão na Suécia,
Nevoeiro em Itália, e em França
Apenas prédios e ruas
Não preciso de muito dinheiro
Basta-me algum --- passear numa vereda
Sob o balanço das nogueiras
Carregar uma toalha para uma praia local, nadar
Acalma-me
Se bem me recordo
Na quinta onde estive
O meu patrão vivia com duas mulheres, e eu fiquei
No quarto por cima deles --- brisas nocturnas de Junho
Soprando pelas frinchas das janelas,
Videiras pendentes sobre uma garagem abandonada
Pomares de ameixa e pêssego mais longe
Aqueles meses no seu armazém
Salas com poucos livros, algumas antiguidades ---
Vejo-nos à mesa da cozinha com bebidas âmbar
Dois de cada lado, uma cena que podia ser
Considerada familiar,
Dignificada, o tique-taque dum relógio,
Antes dos meus companheiros irem para a cama
Subia os degraus desconjuntados
Um enrolador de palha enferrujado perto do telheiro,
Negligenciados escadotes da colheita ---
Um grande silêncio
Da relva até às árvores em direcção à ribeira
Onde minuciosamente estudei os peixinhos
Nenhuma mulher estava interessada em mim, claro,
Mas conheci uma senhora na cidade, uma artista,
Que gostava de me desenhar deitado num colchão
Nos meus dias de folga
Depois de me ir embora
Enviou-me um artigo do jornal local
As mulheres pareciam muito mais velhas
Sem maquilhagem
Ele morreu
Houve uma discussão sobre dinheiro ---
Também tive uma ---
Nessa altura
Comecei a trabalhar numa quinta de Montana
E passei o inverno na Califórnia
by Robert VANDERMOLEN, in "CALIBANonline (USA)", No. 34, 2019 January
(Portuguese translated by Armando TABORDA, 2019)
(post 1st edition, 2019; 2nd edition, 2021)
European mysteries on TV ---
So much summer in Sweden,
Fog in Italy, but in France
Only buildings and streets
I didn't need much money
Just some --- strolling down a lane
Under the sway of walnut trees
Carrying a towel to a county beach, swimming
Calmed me
Though it's vague now
The farmhouse I stayed in
Where my employer
Lived with two women, while I was
In a room above them --- night breezes in June
Rifting through propped windows,
Vines slinking over an abandoned garage
Plum and peach orchards beyond
Those months in his store,
Rooms of rare books, a raft of antiques ---
But I see us at a kitchen table with amber drinks
Two of us in each side, a scene someone
Should have thought looked domestic,
Dignified, a clock ticking,
Before my companions departed to their bed
And I climbed skinny stairs
A rusting lawn roller near a shed,
Neglected picking ladders ---
Great silence
From grasses to the trees down to a stream
Where I carefully studied minnows
Neither woman was interested in me, of course,
But a knew a lady in town, an artist,
Who liked to draw me on my days off
Lying on a mattress
After I left
She forwarded an article from the local paper
The women looked much older,
No makeup
He was dead
There had been an argument over money ---
I'd had one too ---
I'd begun working on a farm in Montana
By then
And wintering in Califórnia
///
LUGARES
Estava a ver os mistérios Europeus na TV,
Por assim dizer ---
Demasiado verão na Suécia,
Nevoeiro em Itália, e em França
Apenas prédios e ruas
Não preciso de muito dinheiro
Basta-me algum --- passear numa vereda
Sob o balanço das nogueiras
Carregar uma toalha para uma praia local, nadar
Acalma-me
Se bem me recordo
Na quinta onde estive
O meu patrão vivia com duas mulheres, e eu fiquei
No quarto por cima deles --- brisas nocturnas de Junho
Soprando pelas frinchas das janelas,
Videiras pendentes sobre uma garagem abandonada
Pomares de ameixa e pêssego mais longe
Aqueles meses no seu armazém
Salas com poucos livros, algumas antiguidades ---
Vejo-nos à mesa da cozinha com bebidas âmbar
Dois de cada lado, uma cena que podia ser
Considerada familiar,
Dignificada, o tique-taque dum relógio,
Antes dos meus companheiros irem para a cama
Subia os degraus desconjuntados
Um enrolador de palha enferrujado perto do telheiro,
Negligenciados escadotes da colheita ---
Um grande silêncio
Da relva até às árvores em direcção à ribeira
Onde minuciosamente estudei os peixinhos
Nenhuma mulher estava interessada em mim, claro,
Mas conheci uma senhora na cidade, uma artista,
Que gostava de me desenhar deitado num colchão
Nos meus dias de folga
Depois de me ir embora
Enviou-me um artigo do jornal local
As mulheres pareciam muito mais velhas
Sem maquilhagem
Ele morreu
Houve uma discussão sobre dinheiro ---
Também tive uma ---
Nessa altura
Comecei a trabalhar numa quinta de Montana
E passei o inverno na Califórnia
by Robert VANDERMOLEN, in "CALIBANonline (USA)", No. 34, 2019 January
(Portuguese translated by Armando TABORDA, 2019)
(post 1st edition, 2019; 2nd edition, 2021)
cammino, Erika Akire, , Ulrich John and 10 other people have particularly liked this photo
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