Guida Fine Arts: On fait une courte pause / Taking a short break

On fait une courte pause / Taking a short break - I'll be back (até já)

Hapi's sibling - iseetheriverbeforeme - Flowing in Prayer form

a greyish blue matter flows
blinded by its own margins, innocent,

not worrying whence it came nor where it goes. *

it is in no hurry.

perhaps fully aware that it's truly another form of itself

in a state of fluidity,

fruition of a love well spent

upon a weak body.

An apparent amorphic compound -
It is,
in all its forms and frailties
a pure form of its multitudinous self.

___________________________

*where - *whither:
for time's fluidity along its banks,
for it is but a word, weathered, but not a changeling

(by: Maria MFA Costa - aka: Guida Almeida)
the above words taken from
► http://guidarte.blogspot.pt/2013/04/manuel-antonio-pina-gesualdo-e-ab-ovo-i.html

for its verbally *fugued version - here

FR ►
Une matière bleue grisâtre coule
aveuglé par ses propres marges , innocent ,
ne pas se demander d'où il vient ni où il va .

Elle n'est pas pressée .

- peut-être pleinement consciente qu'elle est vraiment
une autre forme d'elle-même dans un état de fluidité
fruit d'un amour assez usé sur un corps faible.

Un composé apparemment amorphe :
Elle est,
sous toutes ses formes et fragilités,
une forme pure de son être multitudinaire.

..................................................................................

I leave here a short playlist - by "Longitude Zero"

Here below is a short playlist with some concerts I enjoy.
(or click here if you wish to view t h e list of concerts below)

Deixo seguidamente uma "playlist" com alguns dos muitos concertos que aprecio.

Sonnets from the Portuguese

XIX

Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806–1861)


THE SOUL’S Rialto hath its merchandise;
I barter curl for curl upon that mart,
And from my poet’s forehead to my heart
Receive this lock which outweighs argosies,—
As purply black, as erst to Pindar’s eyes
The dim purpureal tresses gloomed athwart
The nine white Muse-brows. For this counterpart,
The bay-crown’s shade, Belovèd, I surmise,
Still lingers on thy curl, it is so black!
Thus, with a fillet of smooth-kissing breath,
I tie the shadows safe from gliding back,
And lay the gift where nothing hindereth;
Here on my heart, as on thy brow, to lack
No natural heat till mine grows cold in death.