Sem título #379

What is enouhg?

Sem título #378

I know people like this!

Parece que estou a ouvir #511

I Don't Feel Like Dancin'

Scissor Sisters

Wake up in the morning with a head like, "What ya done?"
This used to be the life, but I don't need another one
You like cuttin' up and carrying on, you wear them gowns
So how come I feel so lonely when you're up getting down?

So I'll play along when I hear that special song
I'm gonna be the one who gets it right
You'd better move when you're swayin' round the room
Looks like the magic's only ours tonight

But I don't feel like dancin' when the old Joanna plays
My heart could take a chance, but my two feet can't find a way
You'd think that I could muster up a little soft-shoe gentle sway
But I don't feel like dancin', no sir, no dancin' today

Don't feel like dancin', dancin'
Even if I find nothin' better to do
Don't feel like dancin', dancin'
Why'd you pick a tune when I'm not in the mood?

Don't feel like dancin', dancin'
I'd rather be home with the one in the bed till dawn, with you

Cities come and cities go, just like the old empires
When all you do is change your clothes and call that versatile
You got so many colours, make a blind man so confused
Then why can't I keep up when you're the only thing I lose?

So I'll just pretend that I know which way to bend
And I'm gonna tell the whole world that you're mine
Just please understand, when I see you clap your hands
If you stick around I'm sure that I'll be fine

But I don't feel like dancin' when the old Joanna plays
My heart could take a chance, but my two feet can't find a way
You'd think that I could muster up a little soft-shoe gentle sway
But I don't feel like dancin', no sir, no dancin' today

Don't feel like dancin', dancin'
Even if I find nothin' better to do
Don't feel like dancin', dancin'
Why'd you pick a tune when I'm not in the mood?

Don't feel like dancin', dancin'
I'd rather be home with the one in the bed till dawn, with you

You can't make me dance around
But your two-step makes my chest pound
Just lay me down as you float away into the shimmer light

But I don't feel like dancin' when the old Joanna plays
My heart could take a chance, but my two feet can't find a way
You'd think that I could muster up a little soft-shoe gentle sway
But I don't feel like dancin', no sir, no dancin' today

Don't feel like dancin', dancin'
Even if i find nothin' better to do
Don't feel like dancin', dancin'
Why'd you pick a tune when I'm not in the mood?

Don't feel like dancin', dancin'
I'd rather be home with the one in the bed till dawn, with you

Don't feel like dancin', dancin'
Even if I find nothin' better to do
Don't feel like dancin', dancin'
Why'd you pick a tune when I'm not in the mood?

Don't feel like dancin', dancin'
I'd rather be home with the one in the bed till dawn, with you

Coisas que não mudam #720

November in England's churches:

poppies and remembrance.

Retirado do contexto #443

Pampered Claudia the duck!

Sem título #377

If you don't need to get out, stay in :-)

Palavras lidas #642

What Lips My Lips Have Kissed
by Edna St. Vincent Millay

What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain
Under my head till morning; but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply,
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain
For unremembered lads that not again
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.
Thus in winter stands the lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone,
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more.

Retirado do contexto #442

Redondo e importante!

Pedaços de Berlim #5

Berlim tem ainda o fantástico urso (sempre!)

tradicional artesanato em madeira

deliciosas pretzels

belas salsichas

e bolos de maçã de tradição austriaca

Pedaços de Berlim #4

Berlim tem a coluna da vitória 

(em várias guerras no século XIX)

a coexistência entre velho e novo

edifícios monumentais demonstrando que 

esta sempre foi zona de alto rendimento

a lembrança do muro

e da reconciliação

Pormenores #187

The things you see from up there when you're not sleeping...

Coisas bonitas #216

Nascer do sol a bordo

Sunrise on board

Parece que estou a ouvir #510

Gratidão

Luís Varatojo

Gratidão
Gratidão
Gratidão
Gratidão
Gratidão
Gratidão

Gratidão pelo ar que respiramos
Gratidão ao mar onde navegamos
Gratidão à Terra onde nos deitamos
Gratidão à mãe que nos deu a vida
Ao pai, ao filho e ao Espírito Santo
Gratidão a Deus, gratidão ao banco

Gratidão ao juro bonificado
Ao desconto no supermercado
Ao bombeiro e ao taxista
Ao santo António e à Revista
A quem trabalha todo o dia
Ao Éder da enfermaria
Ao Mourinho da pastelaria
Ao Cristiano da carpintaria

Gratidão
Gratidão
Gratidão
Gratidão
Gratidão
Gratidão

Gratidão ao tio gratidão à tia
à Maria da Mouraria
Gratidão ao fado, à morna, ao chorinho
Gratidão ao Chico Fininho
à dona Amália, ao Variações
Ao Zeca pelas suas canções
Ao Paredes e ao Camané
Ao Sr. Rui do café
Ao professor e ao estudante
Ao ator e ao figurante
Ao Santana e ao Solnado
Ao Oliveira e ao Saramago
Gratidão a Dom Sebastião
Gratidão à rainha mãe
Gratidão a dom Afonso Henriques
E ao whisky de Sacavém

Gratidão
Gratidão
Gratidão
Gratidão
Gratidão
Gratidão

Gratidão a todos, em casa e na rua
Na terra ou na lua
No espaço sideral
No mundo virtual
à iniciativa liberal
Ao poeta surreal
Ao artista conceptual
Ao jornalista factual
Ao Ricardinho do futsal
Ao Dr. Álvaro Cunhal
Ao Ary e ao Camões
E à Rosinha dos limões

Gratidão
Gratidão

Gratidão
Gratidão
Gratidão
Gratidão

Sem título #376

Time travel expectations...

Coisas que não mudam #719

Quick visits / Visitas breves

Palavras lidas #641

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
by Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieve it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Ditto #634

Nothing is more properly a man's own than the fruit of his study, and the protection and security of literary property would greatly tend to encourage genius and to promote useful discoveries.

--Copyright petition to the Continental Congress in 1783