Tu tens um medo:
Acabar.
Não vês que acabas todo o dia.
Que morres no amor.
Na tristeza.
Na dúvida.
No desejo.
Que te renovas todo o dia.
No amor.
Na tristeza.
Na dúvida.
No desejo.
Que és sempre outro.
Que és sempre o mesmo.
Que morrerás por idades imensas.
Até não teres medo de morrer.

E então serás eterno.

Cecília Meireles

Lyrics to L.E.S. Artistes :
What I'm searching for
to tell it straight, I'm tryin to build a wall
Walking by myself
down avenues that reek of time to kill
If you see me keep going
be a pass by waver
Build me up, bring me down
just leave me out you name dropper
Stop tryin to catch my eye
I see you good you forced faker
Just make it easy
You're my enemy you fast talker

Chorus:
I can say I hope it will be worth what I give up
If I could stand up mean for all the things that I believe

What am I here for
I left my home to disappear is all
I'm here for myself
Not to know you
I don't need no one else
Fit in so good the hope is that you cannot see me later
You don't know me
I am an introvert an excavator
I'm duckin' out for now
a face in dodgy elevators
Creep up and suddenly
I found myself
an innovator

Chorus

Change, change, change,
I want to get up out of my skin
tell you what
if I can shake it
I'm 'a make this
something worth dreaming of

Santogold - L.E.S. Artistes

Cheguei. Chegaste. Vinhas fatigada
e triste, e triste e fatigado eu vinha.
Tinhas a alma de sonhos povoada
e alma de sonhos povoada eu tinha…

E parámos de súbito na estrada
da vida: longos anos, presa à minha
a tua mão, a vista deslumbrada
tive da luz que teu olhar continha

Hoje, segues de novo… Na partida.
nem o pranto os teus olhos umedece,
nem te comove a dor da despedida.

E eu, solitário, volto a face e tremo
vendo o teu vulto que desaparece
na extrema curva do caminho extremo

Olavo Braz Martins dos Guimarães Bilac

Slow down, you crazy child
you're so ambitious for a juvenile
But then if you're so smart, tell me
Why are you still so afraid?

Where's the fire, what's the hurry about?
You'd better cool it off before you burn it out
You've got so much to do and
Only so many hours in a day

But you know that when the truth is told..
That you can get what you want or you get old
You're gonna kick off before you even
Get halfway through
When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?

Slow down, you're doing fine
You can't be everything you want to be
Before your time
Although it's so romantic on the borderline tonight
Tonight,...
Too bad but it's the life you lead
you're so ahead of yourself that you forgot what you need
Though you can see when you're wrong, you know
You can't always see when you're right. you're right

You've got your passion, you've got your pride
but don't you know that only fools are satisfied?
Dream on, but don't imagine they'll all come true
When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?

Slow down, you crazy child
and take the phone off the hook and disappear for awhile
it's all right, you can afford to lose a day or two
When will you realize,..Vienna waits for you?
And you know that when the truth is told
that you can get what you want or you can just get old
You're gonna kick off before you even get half through
Why don't you realize,. Vienna waits for you
When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?

Billy Joel - Vienna

o tempo do amor é que é irreparável.

com a mão estendida para a amizade.

a maior solidão é do homem que se defende.

a esperança é um bem gratuito.

quem pagará o enterros e as flores se eu morrer de amores?

hei-de morrer de amar-te mais do que pude.

Vinicius

desempregado-desencontrado-deslizando-desligado-despido.
confluente-compenetrado-compreenda-inconclusivo-contra.
semáforo-sensível-senil-sentado.
frívolo-frágil-fraterno.
ambivalente-ambiente-âmbar.
arquitecto-arrogante-arrependido.
vazio-vaso-vil.
musa-música-muda.
palavra-palácio-paulada.
que-quer-quebrar.
cabeças.

Pedro Puppe

desempregado-desencontrado-deslizando-desligado-despido.
confluente-compenetrado-compreenda-inconclusivo-contra.
semáforo-sensível-senil-sentado.
frívolo-frágil-fraterno.
ambivalente-ambiente-âmbar.
arquitecto-arrogante-arrependido.
vazio-vaso-vil.
musa-música-muda.
palavra-palácio-paulada.
que-quer-quebrar.
cabeças.

C6/7 B6/7 E7/9
Não posso mais, ai que saudade do Brasil
A7+ C6/7
Ai que vontade que eu tenho de voltar
B6/7 Bm7
Adeus América, essa terra é muito boa
E7/9 A7+
Mas não posso ficar porque
D7/9 A7+
O samba mandou me chamar
D7/9 A7+
O samba mandou me chamar
D7/9
Eu digo adeus ao boogie woogie, ao woogie boogie
A7+
E ao swing também
D7/9
Chega de rocks, fox-trotes e pinotes
A7+
Que isso não me convém
D7/9
Eu voltar pra cuíca, bater na barrica
A7+
Tocar tamborim
D7/9
Chega de lights e all rights, good nights e faufaits
E6/7 E5+/7 E7/9
Isso não dá mais pra mim
A7+ E7/9 A7+
Eu quero um samba feito só pra mim
E7/9 D7/9 A7+

Adeus América - João Gilberto

Não sei se é certo pra você

Mas por aqui já deu pra ver
Mesmo espalhados ao redor
Meus passos seguem um rumo só.

E num hotel lá no Japão
Vi o amor vencer o tédio
Por isso a hora é de vibrar
Mais um romance tem remédio

Não deixe idéia de não ou talvez
Que talvez atrapalha
Não deixe idéia de não ou talvez
Que talvez atrapalha.

O amor é um descanso
Quando a gente quer ir lá
Não há perigo no mundo
Que te impeça de chegar.

Caminhando sem receio
Vou brincar no seu jardim
De virada desço o queixo
E rio amarelo.

Agora é hora de vibrar
Mais um romance tem remédio
Vou viajar lá longe tem
O coração de mais alguém.

Não deixe idéia de não ou talvez
Que talvez atrapalha
Não deixe idéia de não ou talvez
Que talvez atrapalha.

Mais Alguém - Roberta Sá

Tonight i'll drown

In the eye of my lover
If i empty my hands
I'll hold everything

I've given up my will
Now you can take it all from me
Or you can leave me
Drowing in a wave of my conceit

Tonight i'll crash
On the ground of my lover
If i give up my soul
I'll be everything

I've climbed the highest hills
And traveled all the distant seas
But that just leaves me
Broken on the ground of my conceit

There's a secret so deep
Opened up from a day
When there's nothing to keep
And there's nothing to let fall away

Tonight i'll burn
In the flame of my lover
If i give you my heart
I'll be everything

I died for all the thrills
But always wound up on my knees
That's where you'll see me
Burning in the fire of my conceit.

Lisa Ekdahl - Of my conceit

José Miguel Silva

Já os pesadelos

What a perfect day to think about myself. The The Os sonhos dos homens assemelham-se entre si. Já os pesadelos, cada um tem o seu. Durante muitos anos eu fui hóspede do frio. Enrolava cigarros para depois da chuva e não tinha sonhos, somente pesadelos. O mais recorrente era o do nevoeiro: ninguém me via, era inútil mandar vir uma caneca de cerveja, no café. O meu dinheiro ninguém o aceitava, ficava parado, fazia de mim um acumulador. Como nunca saía de casa, não sabia falar senão com mortos. Parecia-me magia saber responder boa tarde como vai à saudação dos vizinhos, pedir do vazio ao homem do talho, perguntar as horas. Tempos amargos esses, e hoje, a mesma coisa, a mesma solidão. Com a diferença de que sou mais forte agora, vou à piscina duas vezes por semana, escrevo poemas para não adormecer. José Miguel Silva Vista para um Pátio seguido de Desordem

Os serões habituais
As conversas sempre iguais
Os horóscopos, os signos e ascendentes
Mais a vida da outra sussurrada entre os dentes
Os convites nos olhos embriagados
Os encontros de novo adiados
Nos ouvidos cansados ecoa
A canção de lisboa

Não está só a solidão
Há tristeza e compaixão
Quando sono acalma os corpos agitados
Pela noite atirados contra colções errados
Há o silêncio de quem não ri nem chora
Há divórcio entre o dentro e o fora
E há quem diga que nunca foi boa
A canção de lisboa

Mamã, mamã
Onde estás tu mamã
Nós sem ti não sabemos mamã
Libertar-nos do mal

A urgência de agarrar
Qualquer coisa para mostrar
Que afinal nos também temos mão na vida
Mesmo que seja a custa de a vivermos fingida
O estatuto para impressionar o mundo
Não precisa de ser mais profundo
Que o marasmo que nos atordoa
Ó canção de lisboa

As vielas de néon
As guitarras já sem som
Vão mantendo viva a tradição da fome
Que a memória deturpa e o orgulho consome
Entre o orgasmo e a gruta ainda fria
O abandonado da carne vazia
Cada um no seu canto entoa
A canção de lisboa


Jorge Palma

1. O Universo é mental, o Todo é mental.
2. Como é em cima, é em baixo; como é em baixo, é em cima.
3. Nada é estático. Tudo está em vibração.
4. Tudo é duplo, tudo tem dois pólos, tudo tem o seu oposto.
5. Tudo é fluxo e refluxo, tudo tem os seus períodos de avanço e recuo, tudo sobe e desce, tudo se move como um pêndulo; a quantidade do seu movimento à direita é a do seu movimento à esquerda. O ritmo é a compensação.
6. Toda a causa tem o seu efeito, todo o efeito tem a sua causa. Tudo acontece de acordo com a Lei. O acaso não é senão o nome dado a uma lei que não se conhece.
7. A geração existe em todo o lado. Tudo tem o seu princípio masculino e o seu princípio feminino.

Princípios do Kybalion

Bm             G         A          D F#
Te extraño mas que nunca y no se que hacer  
Bm             G         A          D  
despierto y te recuerdo al amanecer  
A                                 D F#
me espera todo el dia por vivir sin ti  
             B
el espejo no miente  
               G         
me veo tan diferente   
A                D      F#
me haces falta tu  
Bm             G           A         D     F#
La gente pasa y pasa siempre tan igual  
Bm             G           A         D
el ritmo de la vida me parece mal  
A                                D F#   Bm
era tan diferente cuando estabas tu  
G    A         D
si que era diferente cuando estabas tu  
A                         D
No hay nada mas difícil que vivir sin ti  
A                         D
sufriendo en la espera de verte llegar  
A         D
el frió de mi cuerpo pregunta por ti   
F#                Bm   
y no se donde estas  
G     A       D
Si no te hubieras ido seria tan feliz  
No ha nada....  
La gente...  
No hay nada...

Se no te hubieras hido - Maná

The things we see,” Pistorius said quietly, “Are the same things that are in us. The only reality is the one we have in us. That’s why most people’s lives are so unreal, because they consider the external images to be real and don’t allow their own world within themselves to tell them anything. They can be happy that way. But when a person once knows the other way, he is no longer free to choose the path that most people follow. Sinclair, the path of the majority is easy, ours is hard - Let’s go.

Demien by Hesse

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain!I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it's not pretty, everyday,and if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes!”

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

by
Oriah Mountain Dreamer

(thanks Robyn!)

Disse alguém que há bem no coração
Um salão onde o amor descança
Ai de mim que estou tão sozinho
Vivo assim, sem esperança
A implorar alguém que não me quis
E feliz, bem feliz seria
Coração meu, convém descansar
Soluçar mais devagar
Disse alguém que há bem no coração
Um salão, um salão dourado onde o amor sempre dança
Ai de mim que só vivo tão sozinho
Vivo assim, vivo sem ter um terno carinho
A implorar alguém que não me quis
E feliz então eu sei, bem sei que não mais seria
Meu, meu coração sem esperança
E vive a chorar, soluçar

João Gilberto

Je voudrais du soleil vert
Des dentelles et des théières
Des photos de bord de mer

Dans mon jardin d'hiver
Je voudrais de la lumière
Comme au Nouvelle Angleterre
Je veux changer d'atmosphère
Dans mon jardin d'hiver
Ma robe à fleurs sous la pluie de novembre
Tes mains qui courent, je n'en peux plus de t'attendre
Les années passent, qu'il est loin l'âge tendre
Nul ne peut nous entendre
Je voudrais du Fred Astère
Revoir un Latécoère
Je voudrais toujours te plaire
Dans mon jardin d'hiver
Je veux déjeuner par terre
Comme au long des golfes clairs
T'embrasser les yeux ouverts
Dans mon jardin d'hiver

Ma robe à fleurs sous la pluie de novembre
Tes mains qui courent, je n'en peux plus de t'attendre
Les années passent, qu'il est loin l'âge tendre
Nul ne peut nous entendre

Jardin d'Hiver by Satcey Kent
(Keren Ann Zeidel & Benjamin Biolay)

Me llaman calle, pisando baldosa
la revoltosa y tan perdida
me llaman calle, calle de noche, calle de día
me llaman calle, hoy tan cansada, hoy tan vacía
como maquinita por la gran ciudad

me llaman calle, me subo a tu coche
me llaman calle de malegría, calle dolida
calle cansada de tanto amar

voy calle abajo, voy calle arriba
no me rebajo ni por la vida
me llaman calle y ése es mi orgullo
yo sé que un día llegará, yo sé que un día vendrá mi suerte
un día me vendrá a buscar, a la salida un hombre bueno
pa toa la vida y sin pagar, mi corazón no es de alquilar

me llaman calle, me llaman calle
calle sufrida, calle tristeza de tanto amar

me llaman calle, calle más calle

me llaman calle, siempre atrevida

me llaman calle, de esquina a esquina
me llaman calle bala perdida, así me disparó la vida
me llaman calle del desengaño, calle fracaso, calle perdida
me llaman calle la sin futuro
me llaman calle la sin salida

me llaman calle, calle más calle
la de mujeres de la vida
suben pa bajo, bajan para arriba
como maquinita por la gran ciudad

me llaman calle, me llaman calle
calle sufrida, calle tristeza de tanto amar
me llaman calle, calle más calle

me llaman siempre, y a cualquier hora
me llaman guapa siempre a deshora

me llaman puta, también princesa
me llaman calle, es mi nobleza
me llaman calle, calle sufrida, calle perdida de tanto amar

me llaman calle, me llaman calle
calle sufrida, calle tristeza de tanto amar

a la puri, a la carmen, carolina, bibiana, nereida, magda, marga, 
heidi, marcela, jenny, tatiana, rudy, mónica, maría, maría

me llaman calle, me llaman calle
calle sufrida, calle tristeza de tanto amar
me llaman calle, me llaman calle
calle sufrida, calle tristeza de tanto amar
me llaman calle, me llaman calle
calle sufrida, calle tristeza de tanto amar
me llaman calle, me llaman calle
calle sufrida, calle tristeza de tanto amar

Manu Chao

I'm a pilgrim on the edge,

on the edge of my perception

We are travelers at the edge,

we are always at the edge of our perceptions.

--Scott Mutter, Surrational Images

I don't miss you anymore
Unless the moonlight's grey
Or on a stogy night
I just might miss you
A little bit

I don't miss you anymore
Unless it's a cloudy day
Or if the sun shines bright
I just might miss you
Not in there

I don't miss you
'Till the morning fills the air
Or the afternoon is fair
Or the evening light is barely there

I don't miss you
And you know is not a lie
Unless the moon is floating high above the perfect midnight sky

I don't miss you
'Till the morning fills the air
Or the afternoon is fair
Or the evening light is barely there

I don't miss you
And you know is not a lie
Unless the moon is floating high above the perfect midnight sky

I don't miss you anymore
Unless i close my eyes
Especially open wide
I see i miss you every day

Lisa Ekdahl

sobre o corpo

ainda o corpo domina a cena
fala, diz o poema,
estende-te no desejo,
eleva-te na ternura,
na tua razão de ser corpo.

vive, diz o poema,
acima do que é banal
e pouco e raso.
são estes os dias
nos quais viver tem significado.

liberta-te, diz o poema,
e ama.
este é o teu destino.


Sílvia Chueire

"o lugar do morto

"o lugar do morto

Detrás da sua linha de segurança, apanágio de jovens eunucos e velhas prudentes, observava o desenrolar das vidas dos outros com arrogância. Não ser exposta aos mesmos problemas e não estar presente nos mesmos cenários de conflito emocional proporcionava a devida distância para uma avaliação lógica e depurada — por vezes sarcástica e irónica — das fraquezas alheias. A vida na redoma de vidro riscado, já algo baço, que ninguém se interessava em cuidar protegia-a dos ataques de terrorismo emocional, esses actos de cobardia sem aviso prévio. O orgulho de não ser vítima de tais circunstâncias, como tantos outros o eram, provocava uma altivez no ego solitário. Não sofrer, e por conseguinte também não fazer sofrer — é certo e valhe-se o altruísmo — tornou-se com os anos na sua maior preocupação. Estava viva, dizia-me. Mas era mentira. Sempre a vi no lugar do morto."

http://vontade-indomita.blogspot.com/

Hands down
I'm too proud, for love
For with eyes shut
It's you I'm thinking of
But how we move from A to B it can't be up to me
Cause I don't know
Eye to eye
Theigh to Theigh
A little

I think I'm a little bit
Little bit

A little bit in love with you
But only if you're a little bit
Little bit
Little bit
In lalalala love with me

Lykke Li - A little bit

In the first days of the spring time
made you up and split from one thousand enemies
made a trail of, of a thousand tears
made you a prisoner inside your own secrecy

There's a ghost in me
who wants to say "I'm sorry"
Doesn't mean I'm sorry

At the first hour of the springtime
made you up and split from one thousand enemies

now I see you from the corner
clock strikes
and I know you will be drinking alone

There's a ghost in me
who wants to say "I'm sorry"
Doesn't mean I'm sorry

Ghosts- Ladytron

I don't know what I'm doing
I don't know what I'm saying
I don't know why I'm watching all these white people dancing

I don't know where I'm going
But I do know that I'm walking
Where?
I don't know
Just away from this love affair

I can't say that I'm cruisin'
Not that I don't like cruisin'
Just that I'm bruisin from you

I can't say that I'm waltzin'
Not that I don't like waltzing
Would rather be waltzin' with you

So I guess that I'm going
I guess that I am walking
Where?
I don't know
Just away from this love affair

Rufus - Love affair

A quién van a engañar ahora tus brazos
A quién van a mentirle ahora tus labios
A quién vas a decirle ahora "te amo"
Y luego en el silencio le darás tu cuerpo
Detendrás el tiempo sobre la almohada
Pasarán mil horas en tu mirada
Sólo existirá la vida amándote
Ahora quién?

Y quién te escribirá poemas y cartas
Y quién te contará sus miedos y faltas
A quién le dejarás dormirse en tu espalda
Y luego en el silencio le dirás "te quiero"
Detendrás su aliento sobre tu cara
Perderá su rumbo en tu mirada
Y se le olvidará la vida amándote
Ahora quién?

Ahora quién si no soy yo
Me miro y lloro en el espejo y me siento estúpido
Ilógico, y luego te imagino toda regalando el olor de tu piel
Tus besos, tu sonrisa eterna y hasta el alma en un beso
En un beso va el alma
Y en mi alma está el beso que pudo ser

A quién le dejarás tu aroma en la cama?
A quién le quedará el recuerdo mañana?
A quién le pasarán las horas con calma?
Y luego en el silencio deseará tu cuerpo
Se detendrá el tiempo sobre su cara
Pasará mil horas en la ventana
Se le acabará la voz llamándote
Ahora quién?
Ahora quién?

Ahora quién si no soy yo?
Me miro y lloro en el espejo y me siento estúpido
Ilógico, y luego te imagino toda regalando el olor de tu piel
Tus besos, tu sonrisa eterna y hasta el alma en un beso
En un beso va el alma
En mi alma está el beso que pudo ser

Ahora Quién - Marc Anthony

E7   A   F#m     Bm7      E7     AM7    F#m
I've nev  -  er been in love before,

C#m7-5     F#7      Bm   Bm7
Now  all  at once it's you,

E7     E7+5   C#m7-5   C7  FM7    E7
It's you for ev-er-more.


E7   A   F#m     Bm7      E7     AM7    F#m
I've nev  -  er been in love before,

C#m7-5     F#7       Bm   Bm7
I thought my heart was safe,

E7         E7+5      A     AM7   A7   A7/6
I thought I knew the score.



Gdim     DM7 F#m        Bm7-5      E7          AM7     C#m  F#m
But this is wine     that's  all  too strange and strong,

Bm7      C#7    F#m   F#m+7     B7                D9  Bm7-5 E7
I'm full of foolish song,       and out my song must pour.



E7   E7+5     A   F#m     Bm7      E7      AM7    F#m
So please forgive    this helpless haze I'm in,

C#m7-5 F#7    Bm     Bm7  Bm7-5  E
I've really never been in love  be - fore.

Frank Loesser

by Chet Baker

Let’s Not Get to Know Each Other Better

A FEW months ago I liked a girl — a fairly common occurrence. But being slightly ambitious and drunk, I decided to ask her out on a date.

Christopher Silas Neal

This was a weird choice, as I’m not sure I know anyone who has ever had a real date. Most elect to hang out, hook up, or Skype long-distance relations. The idea of a date (asking in advance, spending rent money on dinner and dealing with the initial awkwardness) is far too concrete and unnecessary. As the adage goes: Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free? Why pay for dinner if you can sit around watching TV? If you stay at home, you hardly even need to stand up, let alone put on a nice shirt.

Despite misgivings, this particular foray felt legitimate, a coming-of-age moment straight out of a John Hughes movie. I had always wanted to go on a real date: flowers, dinner and all that. I thought that maybe in doing so I would feel more like an adult and less like a dumb little boy.

So I called this girl, feeling a little sleazy as I searched for the right words: “Hey, um, this is Joel. Do you want to, like, go out? On a date?”

“O.K.,” she said uncertainly, no doubt suspicious the whole thing was a joke.

Her positive response did nothing to calm my jitters. Give me a party, a front porch gathering, or a random encounter, and I’m comfortable talking to anyone. But this kind of formal planning unnerved me. Riding my bike home, I realized I didn’t even know what a real date was, beyond some vague Hollywood notion.

In my 21 years, I have had my share of trysts and one-night stands. I’ve been in love. I know it was love because I shamelessly clung to her. I have had my share of ups and downs but have no idea if I’m doing the whole love thing right or wrong. We don’t tend to define it that way.

In this age of cyberselves, with hookups just a Craigslist ad away, the game has evolved to the point of no rules. It’s not the ’50s where I can ask some lucky girl to wear my pin and take a ride in daddy’s car. This change probably benefits me in the end, as I’m sure an offer of a ride in my dad’s Sable would be swiftly rejected.

For my generation, friendship often morphs into a sexual encounter and then reverts to friendship the next day. And it’s easy as long as you don’t put yourself on the line or try too hard. Don’t have a prospect? Check Facebook. Afraid to call? Text.

With so many avenues for communication, one might expect an onslaught of romantic soliloquies, but that isn’t the case. Casual is sexy. Caring is creepy. You don’t want to show your hand, and you certainly don’t want to fall in love. At least until you do, and by then it’s too late.

Planned romance is viewed as nothing more than ambition, so it’s important that things be allowed to happen naturally. Sex is great, and so are some relationships, but not to the point that they should be actively pursued.

It’s hard to even flirt with a girl without feeling obvious and embarrassed, since the greatest displays of cheesiness come from the pursuit, making it disgusting: “Oh, you drive a Volvo? What’s that like?” Realizing I’m flirting, I cringe and do my best to restrain myself. An encounter is best when unsullied by intentions, leaving lust or boredom to take over.

The typical sequence goes like this: Friends meet up at some sort of bonfire or impromptu game of night volleyball. Maybe that girl from your history class is there, and you start to talk. Neither of you has expectations. But just hanging out and swapping stories, laughing a little, creates a spark and the attraction builds, eventually leading to the big wet kiss that changes everything and nothing.

This is the perfect hookup, a pressure-free surprise. With a stranger, everything is new and acceptable. Her quirks are automatically endearing. This first encounter is the perfect place, but where does it lead?

In the best case, nowhere at all. The next time you see her in class, you act the same as you did before, and so does she, except for the knowledge you share that what happened last week might happen again.

If it continues, you have an understanding, physical chemistry and great conversations. You meet two or three times a week for no-strings sex and long-winded philosophical talks.

Most importantly, you aren’t lonely. Maybe deep in the recesses of your mind you think about possibly loving this person. What’s the standard response? Nothing. If she asks, “How do you feel about me?” you answer from the heart: “I see you as an unexpected treat from the heavens. I don’t know how I deserve this.”

Your relationship is good. Your relationship is strong. But it isn’t a relationship, and that’s the key. You aren’t hoping she will become your girlfriend, and ideally she is not looking for anything more, either.

A friend of mine, a normal girl who is neither especially social nor aloof, engages in hookups unabashedly — she’s just doing what she wants and doesn’t regret or overthink it. Except for one time when she woke up in some guy’s embrace, got out of bed and noticed his bookshelf.

I’m not sure what it was about the contents that impressed or moved her; maybe the books suggested a gentle soul. All I know is what she told me: “I only felt bad after seeing his books.” The books had made him a real person, I guess, one she liked. Or pitied. Because then it was on to the next.

I might not be a typical youth, and maybe my friends aren’t typical, either, but hardly anyone I know aspires to be “that guy” or “that girl,” those once-dynamic individuals who “found someone” and suddenly weren’t so cool. On some level, we envy the scope of their feelings, but we certainly don’t want to become them.

But staying out of relationships can be just as much work as maintaining one. After hooking up with the same person several times I’m sometimes haunted by the “Relationship Status” question on Facebook, and I’ll linger over the button, wondering whether to make the leap from fun to obligation. I envision holding hands, meeting her parents and getting matching ankle tattoos.

Then I come to my senses and close the window.

Sometimes, though, it’s not up to me. I work at one of the campus libraries, and for some obscure reason my bosses, who are mostly middle-aged and female, decided to hold a Library Prom. I had to take someone, so I asked a girl, one of the truly rare fish worth catching (or being caught by).

That didn’t stop me from introducing her as “my friend.”

Which didn’t stop one of my bosses from asking, “Are you two dating?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“Um, we are?”

“Well, this is a date, isn’t it?”

She had me trapped. I nodded blankly. With one word, she had changed everything. Now I’m asked about her at work, even though she is currently hooking up with a friend of mine.

I wish I could explain this to the librarians. They’re sympathetic to my other complaints: about studying, about having my license suspended, about taking care of my pet chicken, and so on. “I was there once,” they tell me. “You’ll be fine.”

But when it comes to love, all they can say is, “How’s that girlfriend of yours?”

Maybe this disconnect has always existed. As one of my classmates, a genteel 60-year-old, said to me, “Every generation thinks they discovered sex.” Which might be true, but I’m not sure any previous generation has our plethora of options and utter lack of protocol. This may reflect how our media obsession has desensitized and hypersexualized us.

But I think it goes beyond that. Our short attention spans tend to be measured in nanoseconds. We float from room to room watching TV, surfing the Internet, playing Frisbee and finding satisfaction around every corner, if only for a moment.

Out of fear, we shrink ourselves. There have been many times I should have cried but stifled the tears. Instances where I should have said, “I love you” but made a joke instead. Once, a girl dumped me and it nearly ruined me. How bad was it? I ate nothing but Wendy’s for an entire week.

I’m fairly certain I could have saved the entire endeavor with a soul-baring soliloquy of what was true and what mattered to me, but I couldn’t muster the courage. I don’t know many who can.

We’ve grown up in an age of rampant divorce and the accompanying tumult. The idea that two people can be happy together, maturing alongside each other, seems as false as a fairy tale. So when a relationship ends, it isn’t seen as bad. It’s held as evidence that the relationship was never any good to begin with.

MAYBE it’s just that we have learned nothing can compare to the perfect moment of the unexpected hookup — wet lips on the beach, lying in the sand — and so we aim to accumulate as many as possible. Or maybe we’re simply too immature to commit. That has been the rap against guys forever, but now women think the same way. With the world (and the world of sex) at our fingertips, it’s difficult to choose, to settle, to compromise.

But I do occasionally wonder: If we can’t get past ourselves and learn to sacrifice to be with another, then what is in store? A generation of selfish go-getters fueled by nothing more than our own egos, forever seeking that rare dose of self-esteem? An era of loneliness filled with commercial wants and mate selection based on the shallowest of criteria?

As a staunch proponent of my generation, I believe that, despite what it may seem, we appreciate the ways of love and affection but are simply waiting for them to take over. We might dally in the land of easy sex and stilted text-message flirtation, but deep down we crave the warm embrace of all-consuming love.

I do, anyway. What else could have been behind my crazy idea to ask a girl out on a date? Alas, she and I ended up going to Chili’s and never went out again. Welcome to adulthood


Joel Walkowski, a runner-up in the Modern Love College Essay Contest, is a senior at the University of Southern California.

here: http://www.nytimes.com/

Como beber dessa bebida amarga
Tragar a dor, engolir a labuta
Mesmo calada a boca, resta o peito
Silêncio na cidade não se escuta
De que me vale ser filho da santa
Melhor seria ser filho da outra
Outra realidade menos morta
Tanta mentira, tanta força bruta
Como é difícil acordar calado
Se na calada da noite eu me dano
Quero lançar um grito desumano
Que é uma maneira de ser escutado
Esse silêncio todo me atordoa
Atordoado eu permaneço atento
Na arquibancada pra a qualquer momento
Ver emergir o monstro da lagoa
De muito gorda a porca já não anda
De muito usada a faca já não corta
Como é difícil, pai, abrir a porta
Essa palavra presa na garganta
Esse pileque homérico no mundo
De que adianta ter boa vontade
Mesmo calado o peito, resta a cuca
Dos bêbados do centro da cidade
Talvez o mundo não seja pequeno
Nem seja a vida um fato consumado
Quero inventar o meu próprio pecado
Quero morrer do meu próprio veneno
Quero perder de vez tua cabeça
Minha cabeça perder teu juízo
Quero cheirar fumaça de óleo diesel
Me embriagar até que alguem me esqueça.

Cálice - Chico Buarque

Sabia-te deitado, sabia-te dormido
Sabia que sabias às coisas a que sabes
Sabia-te silêncio
Sabia-te de súbito, subindo com as aves
Sabia-te sozinho, sabias o meu nome
E tudo o que eu sabia, sabias tu também
Ambos sabíamos a sal e mel, ternura e fome
E do que sabíamos não sabia mais ninguém
E eu sabia que havia um dia de cantar-te
Sabia que por tudo o que em ti canto
Te amaria...
E que haveria de morrer de tanto amar-te
Eu sabia meu amor, eu juro que sabia...
Sabíamos os sons e as cores do infinito
Sabíamos viver e encher de profecias tudo o que o tempo não sabe
Mas está escrito em tudo o que há muito pouco não sabias.

Luís Oliveira/Mafalda Sacchetti

The only real voyage of discovery consists not in seeing new landscapes, but in having new eyes, in seeing the universe with the eyes of another, of hundreds of others, in seeing the hundreds of universes that each of them sees.

- Marcel Proust

Cuando pierda todas las partidas
Cuando duerma con la soledad
Cuando se me cierren las salidas
Y la noche no me deje en paz

Cuando sienta miedo del silencio
Cuando cueste mantenerse en pie
Cuando se revelen los recuerdos
Y me pongan contra la pared

Resistiré erguido frente a todo
Me volveré de hierro para endurecer la piel
Y aunque los vientos de la vida soplen fuerte
Soy como el junco que se dobla pero siempre
Sigue en pie

Resistiré
para seguir viviendo
Soportare los golpes
Y jamás me rendiré
Y aunque los sueños
se me rompan en pedazos
Resistiré

Cuando el mundo pierda toda magia
Cuando mi enemigo sea yo
Cuando me apuñale la nostalgia
Y no conozca ni mi voz

Cuando me amenace la locura
Cuando mi moneda salga cruz
Cuando el diablo pase la factura
O sí alguna vez me faltas tú

Resistiré erguido frente a todo
Me volveré de hierro para endurecer la piel
Y aunque los vientos de la vida soplen fuerte
Soy como el junco que se dobla pero siempre
Sigue en pie

Resistiré
para seguir viviendo
Soportare los golpes
Y jamás me rendiré
Y aunque los sueños
se me rompan en pedazos
Resistiré

Duo Dinamico por Adriana Calcanhotto

You won't find it by your self
You're gonna need some help
And you won't fail with me around
Come on let's go

I will tell you if you change
And who's been saying things
It's hard to tell who is real in here
Come on let's go

You know who to turn to
Now everything's changed
Come on lets go
Stop looking for answers
In everyone's face
Come on let's go

What's the point in wasting time
On people that you'll never know
Come on let's go

When you're looking for a friend
But it's empty at the end
When everybody's disappeared
You won't be alone

If you want I'll compensate
If you over estimate
So there's nothing left to fear
You won't be alone
You know who to turn to
Now everything's changed
Come on let's go
Stop looking for answers
In everyone's face
Come on let's go

What's the point in wasting time
On people that you'll never know
Come on let's go

Broadcast - Come On Let's Go

Triste nº1

Por la memoria vagamos descalzos
seguimos el garabato de la lluvia
hasta la tristeza que es el hogar destino
la tristeza almacena los desastres del alma
o sea lo mejorcito de nosotros mismos
digamos esperanzas sacrificios amores.

A la tristeza no hay quien la despoje
es transparente como un rayo de luna
fiel a determinadas alegrías.

Nacemos tristes y morimos tristes
pero en el entretiempo amamos cuerpos
cuya triste belleza es un milagro.

Vamos descalzos en peregrinación
triste tristeza llena eres de gracia
tu savia dulce nos acepta tristes.

El garabato de la lluvia nos conduce
hasta el hogar destino que siempre has sido
tristeza enamorada y clandestina

Y allí rodeada de tus frágiles dogmas
de tus lágrimas secas de tu siglo de sueños
nos abrazas como anticipo del placer.


Mario Benedetti

If I could open my arms
And span the length of the isle of Manhattan,
I'd bring it to where you are
Making a lake of the East River and Hudson
If I could open my mouth
Wide enough for a marching band to march out
They would make your name sing
And bend through alleys and bounce off all the buildings.

I wish we could open our eyes
To see in all directions at the same time
Oh what a beautiful view
If you were never aware of what was around you
And it is true what you said
That I live like a hermit in my own head
But when the sun shines again
I'll pull the curtains and blinds to let the light in.

Sorrow drips into your heart through a pinhole
Just like a faucet that leaks and there is comfort in the sound
But while you debate half empty or half full
It slowly rises, your love is gonna drown

Your love is gonna drown
Your love is gonna...

Death Cab For Cutie  - Marching Bands of Manhattan

You'll never see
The courage I know
Its colors' richness won't
Appear within your view
I'll never glow
The way that you glow
Your presence dominates
The judgements made on you
But as the scenery grows
I see in different lights
The shades and shadows
Undulate in my perception
My feelings swell and stretch
I see from greater heights
I understand what I am still
Too proud to mention
To you

You'll say you understand
But you don't understand
You'll say you'd never
Give up seeing eye to eye
But never is a promise
And you can't afford to lie

You'll never touch
These things that I hold
The skin of my emotions
Lies beneath my own
You'll never feel
The heat of this soul
My fever burns me deeper
Than I've ever shown
To you

You'll say
Don't fear your dreams
It's easier than it seems
You'll say you'd never
Let me fall from hopes so high
But never is a promise
And you can't afford to lie

You'll never live
The life that I live
I'll never live the life
That wakes me in the night
You'll never hear
The message I give
Youy'll say it looks as though
I might give up this fight

But as the scenery grows
I see in different lights
The shades and shadows
Undulate in my perception
My feelings swell and stretch
I see from greater heights
I realise what I am now
Too smart to mention
To you

You'll say you understand
You'll never understand
I'll say I'll never wake up
Knowing how or why
I don't know what
To believe in
You won't know who I am
You'll say I need appeasing
When I start to cry
But never is a promise
And I'll never need a lie

Never is a promise - Fiona Apple

Excuse me but can I be you for a while
My dog won't bite if you sit real still
I got the anti-Christ in the kitchen yellin' at me again
Yeah I can hear that
Been saved again by the garbage truck
I got something to say you know
But nothing comes
Yes I know what you think of me
You never shut-up
Yeah I can hear that

But what if I'm a mermaid
In these jeans of his
With her name still on it
Hey but I don't care
Cause sometimes
I said sometimes
I hear my voice
And it's been here
Silent All These Years

So you found a girl
Who thinks really deep thougts
What's so amazing about really deep thoughts
Boy you best praya that I bleed real soon
How's that thought for you
My scream got lost in a paper cup
You think there's a heaven
Where some screams have gone
I got 25 bucks and a cracker
Do you think it's enough
To get us there

Cause what if I'm a mermaid
In these jeans of his
With her name still on it
Hey but I don't care
Cause sometimes
I said sometimes
I hear my voice
And it's been here
Silent All These...

Years go by
Will I still be waiting
For somebody else to understand
Years go by
If I'm stripped of my beauty
And the orange clouds
Raining in head
Years go by
Will I choke on my tears
Till finally there is nothing left
One more casualty
You know we're too easy Easy Easy

Well I love the way we communicate
Your eyes focus on my funny lip shape
Let's hear what you think of me now
But baby don't look up
The sky is falling
Your mother shows up in a nasty dress
It's your turn now to stand where I stand
Everybody lookin' at you here
Take hold of my hand
Yeah I can hear them

But what if I'm a mermaid
In these jeans of his
With her name still on it
Hey but I don't care
Cause sometimes
I said sometimes
I hear my voice

And it's been here
Silent All These Years
I've been here
Silent All These Years


Silent All These Years - Tori Amos

Brother Pele's in the back
Sweet Zina's in the front
Cruising down the freeway
In the hot, hot sun

Suddenly red blue lights
Flash us from behind
Loud voice, booming
" please step out onto the line"

Pele breathes words of comfort
Zina just hides her eyes
Policeman taps his shades
Is that a Chevy 69?

How bizarre
How bizarre
How bizarre

Destination unknown
As we pull in for some gas
A freshly pasted poster
Reveals a smile from the pack

Elephants and acrobats,
Lions snakes monkey
Pele speaks righteous
Sister Zina says funky

How bizarre
How bizarre
How bizarre

Ooh baby, (ooh baby)
It's making me crazy, (it's making me crazy)
Everytime I look around
Look around
Everytime I look around(everytime i look around)
Everytime I look around
It's in my face

Ringmaster steps up
Says the elephants left town
People jump and jive `round
The clowns that struck around

T.V. news and cameras
There's choppers in the sky
Marines, police, reporters
Ask the where, for and why

Pele yells "we're outta here"
Zina says "right on"
Make your moves and starting grooves
Before they knew we're gone

Jump into the Chevy
Headed for big lights,
Want to know the rest
Hey, buy the rights.

OMC - How bizarre

Para calar a boca: rícino
Pra lavar a roupa: omo
Para viagem longa: jato
Para difíceis contas: calculadora

Para o pneu na lona: jacaré
Para a pantalona: nesga
Para pular a onda: litoral
Para lápis ter ponta: apontador

Para o Pará e o Amazonas: látex
Para parar na Pamplona: Assis
Para trazer à tona: homem-rã
Para a melhor azeitona: Ibéria

Para o presente da noiva: marzipã
Para Adidas, o Conga: nacional
Para o outono, a folha: exclusão
Para embaixo da sombra: guarda-sol

Para todas as coisas: dicionário
Para que fiquem prontas: paciência
Para dormir a fronha: madrigal
Para brincar na gangorra: dois

Para fazer uma toca: bobs
Para beber uma coca: drops
Para ferver uma sopa: graus
Para a luz lá na roça: duzentos e vinte volts

Para vigias em ronda: café
Para limpar a lousa: apagador
Para o beijo da moça: paladar
Para uma voz muito rouca: hortelã

Para a cor roxa: ataúde
Para a galocha: Verlon
Para ser "mother": melancia
Para abrir a rosa: temporada

Para aumentar a vitrola: sábado
Para a cama de mola: hóspede
Para trancar bem a porta: cadeado
Para que serve a calota: Volkswagen

Para quem não acorda: balde
Para a letra torta: pauta
Para parecer mais nova: Avon
Para os dias de prova: amnésia

Para estourar pipoca: barulho
Para quem se afoga: isopor
Para levar na escola: condução
Para os dias de folga: namorado

Para o automóvel que capota: guincho
Para fechar uma aposta: paraninfo
Para quem se comporta: brinde
Para a mulher que aborta: repouso

Para saber a resposta: vide-o-verso
Para escolher a compota: Jundiaí
Para a menina que engorda: hipofagin
Para a comida das orcas: krill

Para o telefone que toca
Para a água lá na poça
Para a mesa que vai ser posta
Para você, o que você gosta:
Diariamente.

Nando Reis por Marisa Monte

I had just turned sixteen that season
When you came up from burma to stay.
And you told me I ought to travel with you,
You were sure it would be ok.
When I asked how you earned your living,
I can still hear what you said to me:
You had some kind of job on the railway
And had nothing to do with the sea.

You said a lot, johnny,
All one big lie, johnny.
You cheated me blind, johnny,
From the minute we met.
I hate you so, johnny,
When you stand there grinning, johnny.
Take that damn pipe out of your mouth, you rat.

Surabaya johnny,
No ones meaner than you.
Surabaya johnny,
My God and I still love you so.
Surabaya johnny,
Why am I feeling so blue ?
You have no heart, johnny,
And I still love you so.

At the start, every day was sunday,
Till we went on our way one fine night.
And before two more weeks were over,
You thought nothing I did was right.
So we trekked up and down through the punjab,
From the source of the river to the sea.
When I look at my face in the mirror,
Theres an old woman staring back at me.

You didnt want love, johnny,
You wanted cash, johnny.
But I sewed your lips, johnny,
And that was that.
You wanted it all, johnny,
I gave you more, johnny.
Take that damn pipe out of your mouth, you rat.

Surabaya johnny.
No ones meaner than you.
Surabaya johnny.
My God and I still love you so.
Surabaya johnny,
Why am I feeling so blue ?
You have no heart, johnny.
And I still love you so.

I would never have thought of asking
How youd got that peculiar name,
But from one end of the coast to the other
You were known everywhere we came.
And one day in a two-bit flophouse
Ill wake up to the roar of the sea,
And youll leave without one word of warning
On a ship waiting down at the quay.

You have no heart, johnny!
Youre just a louse, johnny!
How could you go, johnny,
And leave me flat ?
Youre still my love, johnny,
Like the day we met, johnny.
Take that damn pipe out of your mouth, you rat.

Surabaya johnny.
No ones meaner than you.
Surabaya johnny,
My God and I still love you so.
Surabaya johnny,
Why am I feeling so blue ?
You have no heart, johnny.
And I still love you so.

Kurt Weill por Ute Lemper

Imprevisível...
De longe em longe um sinal,
Lume no céu, cinzento.
Estranha sensação dentro de mim,
andam nuvens nos meus ideais.

Quando eu te passo,
A minha chama e tu és luz,
A fantasia acorda em mim,
E a dor parece desmaiar,
Bem devagar.
Mora longe a paz que me seduz,
Estará perdida ou irá voltar?

Imprevisível...
Veneno doce a entrar,
Papel de seda a esvoaçar
Anda, vem vestir a minha pele,
Faz-te ao mar e entra em mim.

Quando a loucura,
For pra nós fundamental,
Plantarmos sonhos nos jardins,
E a solidão se esconder de nós,
Bem devagar.
Teremos nós chegado ao fim,
quando o céu for mais azul.

Quando a loucura,
For pra nós fundamental,
Plantarmos sonhos nos jardins,
E a solidão se esconder de nós,
Teremos nós chegado ao fim,
quando o céu for mais azul.

Mafalda Sachetti - Imprevisível

Abro os olhos e adormeço
Sem a mente fraquejar
Saio pela manhã
De passagem, coisa vã
Derrapagem
Que a viagem tem princípio, meio e fim

Enquanto vergo, não parto
Enquanto choro, não seco
Enquanto vivo, não corro
À procura do que é certo

Não me venham buzinar
Vou tão bem na minha mão
Então vou para lá
Ver o que dá
Pé atrás na engrenagem
Altruísta até mais não

Enquanto vergo, não parto
Enquanto choro, não seco
Enquanto vivo, não corro
À procura do que é certo

Presa por um fio
Na vertigem do vazio
Que escorrega entre os dedos
Preso em duas mãos
Que o futuro é mais
O presente coerente na razão
Frases feitas são reféns da pulsação

Enquanto vergo, não parto
Enquanto choro, não seco
Enquanto vivo, não corro
À procura do que é certo

Susana Félix - Na minha mão

"Coisas que não mais acontecerão. Tu a penteares o teu cabelo negro frente ao espelho e eu por detrás de ti escondido, como se já não existisse, estivesse ausente. Tu a fugires para longe, impossível de dizer para onde, quando te tinha nos braços, de tão perto. Vou para Nova Iorque"

Saudades de Nova Iorque - Pedro Paixão

Para além da orelha existe um som, à extremidade do olhar um aspecto, às pontas dos dedos um objeto - é para lá que eu vou.
À ponta do lápis o traço.
Onde expira um pensamento está uma idéia, ao derradeiro hálito de alegria uma outra alegria, à ponta da espada a magia - é para lá que eu vou.
Na ponta dos pés o salto.
Parece a história de alguém que foi e não voltou - é para lá que eu vou.
Ou não vou? Vou, sim. E volto para ver como estão as coisas. Se continuam mágicas. Realidade? eu vos espero. E para lá que eu vou.
Na ponta da palavra está a palavra. Quero usar a palavra “tertúlia” e não sei aonde e quando. À beira da tertúlia está a família. À beira da família estou eu. À beira de eu estou mim. É para mim que eu vou. E de mim saio para ver. Ver o quê? ver o que existe. Depois de morta é para a realidade que vou. Por enquanto é sonho. Sonho fatídico. Mas depois - depois tudo é real. E a alma livre procura um canto para se acomodar. Mim é um eu que anuncio.
Não sei sobre o que estou falando. Estou falando de nada. Eu sou nada. Depois de morta engrandecerei e me espalharei, e alguém dirá com amor meu nome.
É para o meu pobre nome que vou.
E de lá volto para chamar o nome do ser amado e dos filhos. Eles me responderão. Enfim terei uma resposta. Que resposta? a do amor. Amor: eu vos amo tanto. Eu amo o amor. O amor é vermelho. O ciúme é verde. Meus olhos são verdes. Mas são verdes tão escuros que na fotografia saem negros. Meu segredo é ter os olhos verdes e ninguém saber.
À extremidade de mim estou eu. Eu, implorante, eu a que necessita, a que pede, a que chora, a que se lamenta. Mas a que canta. A que diz palavras. Palavras ao vento? que importa, os ventos as trazem de novo e eu as possuo.
Eu à beira do vento. O morro dos ventos uivantes me chama. Vou, bruxa que sou. E me transmuto.
Oh, cachorro, cadê tua alma? está à beira de teu corpo? Eu estou à beira de meu corpo. E feneço lentamente.
Que estou eu a dizer? Estou dizendo amor. E à beira do amor estamos nós.

Clarice Lispector

Onde queres revólver sou coqueiro, onde queres dinheiro sou paixão
Onde queres descanso sou desejo, e onde sou só desejo queres não
E onde não queres nada, nada falta, e onde voas bem alto eu sou o chão
E onde pisas no chão minha alma salta, e ganha liberdade na amplidão

Onde queres família sou maluco, e onde queres romântico,burguês
Onde queres Leblon sou Pernambuco, e onde queres eunuco,garanhão
E onde queres o sim e o não, talvez, onde vês eu não vislumbro razão
Onde queres o lobo eu sou o irmão, e onde queres cowboy eu sou chinês

Ah, bruta flor do querer, ah, bruta flor, bruta flor
Onde queres o ato eu sou o espírito
e onde queres ternura eu sou tesão
Onde queres o livre decassílabo
e onde buscas o anjo eu sou mulher
Onde queres prazer sou o que dói
e onde queres tortura,mansidão
Onde queres o lar, revolução
e onde queres bandido eu sou o herói

Eu queria querer-te e amar o amor
construírmos dulcíssima prisão
E encontrar a mais justa adequação
tudo métrica e rima e nunca dor
Mas a vida é real e de viés
e vê só que cilada o amor me armou

E te quero e não queres como sou
não te quero e não queres como és

Onde queres comício, flipper vídeo
e onde queres romance, rock'nroll
Onde queres a lua eu sou o sol
onde a pura natura, o inseticídeo
E onde queres mistério eu sou a luz

Onde queres um canto, o mundo inteiro
Onde queres quaresma, fevereiro
e onde queres coqueiro eu sou obus
O quereres e o estares sempre a fim
do que em mim é de mim tão desigual
Faz-me querer-te bem, querer-te mal
bem a ti, mal ao quereres assim
Infinitivamente pessoal
e eu querendo querer-te sem ter fim
E querendo te aprender o total do querer
que há e do que não há em mim


Caetano Veloso