tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35194561711657626102024-03-20T01:59:16.074-07:00El Vaporcito"Vaporcito, vaporcito, vaporcito... que nos lleva en su vaivén"El Vaporcitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13043746470781592232noreply@blogger.comBlogger330125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3519456171165762610.post-4943971206057537002009-11-29T12:57:00.000-08:002009-11-29T13:12:20.534-08:00Dance Me To The End Of Love<span style="font-size:85%;"><em>a Mi</em></span><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409633280602994914" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbgnSUspq2qhEgUnPxIhXUpMumug2FtiaoICm-pQla6SFBk9AJ3EdVM9qaqqq8WiOBzExNjP6cS43qW0cuTjy1LrdIn6-1d4MC3wk-7JN1_4SxAvGitK_2SagUX6IOQyYmr_6IMvkUy4I/s400/Dance+Me+To+The+End+Of+Love.jpg" /><br /><div align="center">Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin<br />Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in<br />Lift me like an olive branch, be my homeward dove<br />And dance me to the end of love<br />Dance me to the end of love<br /><br />Let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone<br />Let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon<br />Show me slowly what I only know the limits of<br />And dance me to the end of love<br />Dance me to the end of love<br /><br />Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on<br />Dance me very tenderly and dance me very long<br />We're both of us beneath our love, we're both of us above<br />And dance me to the end of love<br />Dance me to the end of love<br /><br />Dance me to the children who are asking to be born<br />Dance me through the curtains that our kisses have outworn<br />Raise a tent of shelter now, though every thread is torn<br />And dance me to the end of love<br />Dance me to the end of love<br /><br />Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin<br />Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in<br />Touch me with your naked hand, touch me with your glove<br />Dance me to the end of love…<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(Leonard Cohen)</span> </div><br /><object data="http://elvaporcito2.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito2.googlepages.com/DanceMeToTheEndOfLove.mp3 " width="200" height="20" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"><param value="http://kikorb.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito2.googlepages.com/DanceMeToTheEndOfLove.mp3 " name="movie"/></object>El Vaporcitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13043746470781592232noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3519456171165762610.post-4218849089279046502009-11-29T12:53:00.000-08:002009-11-29T13:18:23.210-08:00It's All Over Now, Baby Blue<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1FYyIhcAC1l33hWjAnGW4xb0o1W5tL1O-WwBbsOZd5f1lRrKxIpqSStoirMMAbTiEnTbPWEXddN2CE7BGSn3oW3Hjr8hybV94DppaYitGS2FfJ2SPwPtV7nYdMe5K2Xx2HXvtQXJkao8/s1600/It's+All+Over+Now,+Baby+Blue.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 312px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409632014250366946" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1FYyIhcAC1l33hWjAnGW4xb0o1W5tL1O-WwBbsOZd5f1lRrKxIpqSStoirMMAbTiEnTbPWEXddN2CE7BGSn3oW3Hjr8hybV94DppaYitGS2FfJ2SPwPtV7nYdMe5K2Xx2HXvtQXJkao8/s320/It's+All+Over+Now,+Baby+Blue.jpg" /></a>You must leave now, take what you need, you think will last.<br />But whatever you wish to keep, you better grab it fast.<br />Yonder stands your orphan with his gun,<br />Crying like a fire in the sun.<br />Look out, baby, the saints are comin' through<br />And it's all over now, baby blue.<br /><br />The highway is for gamblers, better use your sense.<br />Take what you have gathered from coincidence.<br />The empty-handed painter from your streets<br />Is drawing crazy patterns on your sheets.<br />This sky, too, is fallin’ in over you<br />And it's all over now, baby blue.<br /><br />Leave your stepping stones behind, there's something calls for you.<br />Forget the debt you left, that will not follow you.<br />Your lover who has just walked through the door<br />Has taken all his blankets from the floor<br />The carpet, too, is foldin' over you<br />And it's all over now, baby blue.<br /><br />Well, strike another match, yeah, go start anew<br />'Cause it's all over now, baby blue.<br />It's all over, it's all over now, baby blue.<br />It's all over, it's all over now, oh yeah…<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(Bob Dylan, versión de Van Morrison)</span> </div><br /><object data="http://elvaporcito2.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito2.googlepages.com/ItsAllOverNowBabyBlue.mp3" width="200" height="20" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"><param value="http://kikorb.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito2.googlepages.com/ItsAllOverNowBabyBlue.mp3" name="movie"/></object>El Vaporcitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13043746470781592232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3519456171165762610.post-6784874027134576112009-11-29T12:49:00.000-08:002009-12-02T06:09:33.583-08:00I Beg Your Pardon<p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-z0XxedicfZMFlxQchYm4Kw8U_i_R9frD0imdvP9eiSwRwLJYsemlM6XQQb9E43tYS_OhKtfnXji4JViD2qUVP0iddHhWP2ggXE7bFm0HoLp6o1r1hJ718sUECf82nETAJE2zBVfvX24/s1600/I+Beg+Your+Pardon+(Lolo).jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 206px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409631038929095474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-z0XxedicfZMFlxQchYm4Kw8U_i_R9frD0imdvP9eiSwRwLJYsemlM6XQQb9E43tYS_OhKtfnXji4JViD2qUVP0iddHhWP2ggXE7bFm0HoLp6o1r1hJ718sUECf82nETAJE2zBVfvX24/s320/I+Beg+Your+Pardon+(Lolo).jpg" /></a></p><div align="center">I'm just a scarecrow without you<br />Baby, please don't disappear<br />I beg your pardon, dear<br /><br />I got a bottle for a trumpet<br />And a hatbox for a drum<br />I beg your pardon, dear<br /><br />I got upset<br />I lost my head<br />I didn't mean the things I said<br />You are the landscape of my dreams<br />Darling, I beg your pardon<br /><br />I'd give you Boardwalk and Park Place<br />And all of my hotels<br />I beg your pardon, dear<br /><br />Please don't go back to St. Louis<br />Can't you tell that I'm sincere<br />I beg your pardon, dear<br /><br />I got upset<br />I lost my head<br />I didn't mean the things I said<br />You are the landscape of my dreams<br />Darling, I beg your pardon<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(canción: Tom Waits; foto: Lolo) </span></div><br /><object data="http://elvaporcito3.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito3.googlepages.com/IBegYourPardon.mp3" width="200" height="20" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"><param value="http://kikorb.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito3.googlepages.com/IBegYourPardon.mp3" name="movie"/></object>El Vaporcitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13043746470781592232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3519456171165762610.post-23629681486968380992009-11-29T12:00:00.000-08:002009-11-29T12:02:39.702-08:00O Tejo corre no Tejo<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_11MrpGghFLi-V2SWB_3AcdVv8XsGlpb4G3Zz5hvt4ne_Pn17VnWwZ9jAMb9cbNU4y1EwEJBGC-u8cqdf7_3A4d_qH6ZS6wlzFifAFJZj56BxKMAKgA31NsHUVnANE-QVAvl_mVMbKjk/s1600/O+Tejo+corre+no+Tejo.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 271px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409618403120658290" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_11MrpGghFLi-V2SWB_3AcdVv8XsGlpb4G3Zz5hvt4ne_Pn17VnWwZ9jAMb9cbNU4y1EwEJBGC-u8cqdf7_3A4d_qH6ZS6wlzFifAFJZj56BxKMAKgA31NsHUVnANE-QVAvl_mVMbKjk/s400/O+Tejo+corre+no+Tejo.JPG" /></a>Tu que passas por mim tão indiferente<br />no teu correr vazio de sentido,<br />na memória que sobes lentamente,<br />do mar para a nascente,<br />és o curso do tempo já vivido.<br /><br />Não, Tejo,<br />não és tu que em mim te vês,<br />– sou eu que em ti me vejo!<br /><br />Por isso, à tua beira se demora<br />aquele que a saudade ainda trespassa,<br />repetindo a lição, que não decora,<br />de ser, aqui e agora,<br />só um homem a olhar para o que passa.<br /><br />Não, Tejo,<br />não és tu que em mim te vês,<br />– sou eu que em ti me vejo!<br /><br />Um voo desferido é uma gaivota,<br />não é o voo da imaginação;<br />gritos não são agoiros, são a lota...<br />Vá, não faças batota,<br />deixa ficar as coisas onde estão...<br /><br />Não, Tejo,<br />não és tu que em mim te vês,<br />– sou eu que em ti me vejo!<br /><br />Tejo desta canção, que o teu correr<br />não seja o meu pretexto de saudade.<br />Saudade tenho sim, mas de perder,<br />sem as poder deter,<br />as águas vivas da realidade!<br /><br />Não, Tejo,<br />não és tu que em mim te vês,<br />– sou eu que em ti me vejo!<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(poema: Alexandre O’Neill; foto: Gonzalo HY)</span> </div>El Vaporcitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13043746470781592232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3519456171165762610.post-67426722513240078282009-11-16T12:05:00.000-08:002009-11-18T11:13:52.083-08:00Avec le temps / Léo<div align="center">Avec le temps...<br />avec le temps, va, tout s'en va<br />on oublie le visage et l'on oublie la voix<br />le cœur, quand ça bat plus, c'est pas la peine d'aller<br />chercher plus loin, faut laisser faire et c'est très bien<br /><br />avec le temps...<br />avec le temps, va, tout s'en va<br />l'autre qu'on adorait, qu'on cherchait sous la pluie<br />l'autre qu'on devinait au détour d'un regard<br />entre les mots, entre les lignes et sous le fard<br />d'un serment maquillé qui s'en va faire sa nuit<br />avec le temps tout s'évanouit<br /><br />avec le temps...<br />avec le temps, va, tout s'en va<br />mêm' les plus chouett's souv'nirs ça t'as un' de ces gueules<br />à la gal'rie j'farfouille dans les rayons d'la mort<br />le samedi soir quand la tendresse s'en va tout' seule<br /><br />avec le temps...<br />avec le temps, va, tout s'en va<br />l'autre à qui l'on croyait pour un rhume, pour un rien<br />l'autre à qui l'on donnait du vent et des bijoux<br />pour qui l'on eût vendu son âme pour quelques sous<br />devant quoi l'on s'traînait comme traînent les chiens<br />avec le temps, va, tout va bien<br /><br />avec le temps...<br />avec le temps, va, tout s'en va<br />on oublie les passions et l'on oublie les voix<br />qui vous disaient tout bas les mots des pauvres gens<br />ne rentre pas trop tard, surtout ne prends pas froid<br /><br />avec le temps...<br />avec le temps, va, tout s'en va<br />et l'on se sent blanchi comme un cheval fourbu<br />et l'on se sent glacé dans un lit de hasard<br />et l'on se sent tout seul peut-être mais peinard<br />et l'on se sent floué par les années perdues<br />alors vraiment<br />avec le temps on n'aime plus<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(Léo Ferré)</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoTVxuwZymXnVK9nNiejRAsqD6tmZT_ltPEA4HiquG-QZULNbFPAaO-p5C-NmpaWFA3CXDbh756mDA9ZtRo8XNIjm6yd_J-CTMObr9YEXOuQMQ0eoLELP-T3k3iGFmQvl_02PlWah4uWo/s1600/avec+le+temps.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 330px; HEIGHT: 330px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404796780291605826" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoTVxuwZymXnVK9nNiejRAsqD6tmZT_ltPEA4HiquG-QZULNbFPAaO-p5C-NmpaWFA3CXDbh756mDA9ZtRo8XNIjm6yd_J-CTMObr9YEXOuQMQ0eoLELP-T3k3iGFmQvl_02PlWah4uWo/s400/avec+le+temps.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Dimmi come sarà quel sorriso d'atmosfera<br />che mi regalerai in quello strascico di sera<br />quando rileggerò le tue candide invettive,<br />quando riascolterò le tue acque sulle mie rive,<br />e mi disegnerai come la prima volta<br />una profonda vertigine davanti la mia porta.<br />Scendi da quel letto Léo,<br />che non è ancora il tempo di sparire.<br />Che tu sia maledetto Léo,<br />come i versi che non mi hai lascialo capire.<br />Avec le temps tout s'en va<br />Avec le temps tout s'en va<br />Avec le temps je sais tout s'en va…<br />Et verse-moi encore à boire<br />mêlons le vin à la sueur<br />dans chaque courbe de nos verres<br />aux quatre coins de ma douleur<br />sur les couteaux de tes blasphèmes<br />sans doute nous nous blesserons<br />et le raisin de tes vendages<br />nous fera perdre la raison.<br />Scendi da quel letto Léo<br />che non è ancora il tempo di sparire<br />Que tu soies maudit Léo<br />et les vers que tu ne m'as pas fait comprendre<br />Esci da quella stanza Léo,<br />che non è ancora il tempo di tacere.<br />Il n'y a pas assez de vie Léo<br />pour la laisser s'enfuir comme ça<br />Avec le temps tout s'en va…<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(Pippo Pollina)</span> </div><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(Léo Ferré)</span><br /><object data="http://elvaporcito4.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito4.googlepages.com/leoferre-avecletemps.mp3" width="200" height="20" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"><param value="http://kikorb.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito4.googlepages.com/leoferre-avecletemps.mp3" name="movie"/></object><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(Pippo Pollina)</span><br /><object data="http://elvaporcito4.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito4.googlepages.com/pippo-leo.mp3" width="200" height="20" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"><param value="http://kikorb.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito4.googlepages.com/pippo-leo.mp3" name="movie"/></object>El Vaporcitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13043746470781592232noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3519456171165762610.post-74379810420988338482009-11-15T12:23:00.000-08:002009-11-15T12:40:21.282-08:00In The Garden<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwpHAklOcfU-vfKvqoLI4D685_BaoN4fJk6M04sBb0X3X3lJuRQWBN88n3lnlSJJeBoN2IQecKFIhY4Bx0xMxmBTMOMWgTO_6ugu7rqHRMzY_X4OnFx8DtuuvwXRx_lsiFrt-S0GwMB30/s1600-h/In+The+Garden+-+NannaX3.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404430151066497522" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwpHAklOcfU-vfKvqoLI4D685_BaoN4fJk6M04sBb0X3X3lJuRQWBN88n3lnlSJJeBoN2IQecKFIhY4Bx0xMxmBTMOMWgTO_6ugu7rqHRMzY_X4OnFx8DtuuvwXRx_lsiFrt-S0GwMB30/s400/In+The+Garden+-+NannaX3.jpg" /></a>The streets are always wet with rain<br />After a summer shower when I saw you standin'<br />Standin' in the garden, in the garden wet with rain<br /><br />You wiped the teardrops from your eye in sorrow<br />As we watched the petals fall down to the ground<br />And as I sat beside you I felt the great sadness that day in the garden<br /><br />And then one day you came back home<br />You were a creature all in rapture<br />You had the key to your soul<br />And you did open that day you came back to the garden<br /><br />The olden summer breeze was blowin' on your face<br />The light of God was shinin' on your countenance divine<br />And you were a violet colour as you<br />Sat beside your father and your mother in the garden<br /><br />The summer breeze was blowin' on your face<br />Within your violet you treasure your summery words<br />And as the shiver from my neck down to my spine<br />Ignited me in daylight and nature in the garden<br /><br />And you went into a trance<br />Your childlike vision became so fine<br />And we heard the bells inside the church<br />We loved so much<br />And felt the presence of the youth of<br />Eternal summers in the garden<br /><br />And as it touched your cheeks so lightly<br />Born again you were and blushed<br />And we touched each other lightly<br />And we felt the presence of the Christ in the garden<br /><br />And I turned to you and I said<br />No Guru, no method, no teacher<br />Just you and I and nature<br />And the Father in the garden<br /><br />Listen<br />No Guru, no method, no teacher<br />Just you and I and nature<br />And the Father and the Son<br />And the Holy Ghost<br />In the garden wet with rain...<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(canción: Van Morrison; foto: NannaX3) </span></div><br /><object data="http://elvaporcito4.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito4.googlepages.com/vanmorrison-inthegarden.mp3" width="200" height="20" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"><param value="http://kikorb.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito4.googlepages.com/vanmorrison-inthegarden.mp3" name="movie"/></object>El Vaporcitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13043746470781592232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3519456171165762610.post-33717595253234510192009-11-15T12:15:00.000-08:002009-11-15T12:22:12.928-08:00Days Like This<span style="font-size:85%;">When it's not always raining there'll be days like this <br />When there's no one complaining there'll be days like this<br />When everything falls into place like the flick of a switch<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwvHEtNrFURf1ZzhtP0wVEDACBe3vac-0pFsLj2Y6OdzqRNPxJYeQ_5Un3WAV8KKriOSOYyDWfR6EkgAAuqX2cuGUxpJxqOuoaIrJrbn_3RebzORRwhyphenhyphenMe3Rh6flPg9hSY_Te9tBTVvNc/s1600-h/days+like+this.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 302px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404427072811032242" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwvHEtNrFURf1ZzhtP0wVEDACBe3vac-0pFsLj2Y6OdzqRNPxJYeQ_5Un3WAV8KKriOSOYyDWfR6EkgAAuqX2cuGUxpJxqOuoaIrJrbn_3RebzORRwhyphenhyphenMe3Rh6flPg9hSY_Te9tBTVvNc/s400/days+like+this.jpg" /></a><br />Well my mama told me there'll be days like this<br /><br />When you don't need to worry there'll be days like this<br />When no one's in a hurry there'll be days like this<br />When you don't get betrayed by that old Judas kiss<br />Oh my mama told me there'll be days like this<br /><br />When you don't need an answer there'll be days like this<br />When you don't meet a chancer there'll be days like this<br />When all the parts of the puzzle start to look like they fit<br />Then I must remember there'll be days like this<br /><br />When everyone is up front and they're not playing tricks<br />When you don't have no freeloaders out to get their kicks<br />When it's nobody's business the way that you wanna live<br />I just have to remember there'll be days like this<br /><br />When no one steps on my dreams there'll be days like this<br />When people understand what I mean there'll be days like this<br />When you ring out the changes of how everything is<br />Well my mama told me there'll be days like this<br /><br />(Van Morrison) </span><br /><object data="http://elvaporcito4.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito4.googlepages.com/vanmorrison-dayslikethis.mp3" width="200" height="20" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"><param value="http://kikorb.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito4.googlepages.com/vanmorrison-dayslikethis.mp3" name="movie"/></object>El Vaporcitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13043746470781592232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3519456171165762610.post-65355010628296835632009-11-05T13:22:00.000-08:002009-11-05T13:27:37.931-08:00O meu amor<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm2M_vdQxppicjj5mne487-onQmDdunSBbY_5btq2LrO3XNQKhMoJwvkxQEEkoxP_28RI7CahWmdL2CUzD6ri734SPhqMuM4WuYWffntPHjqLgt-ile6cmRwdkaEiWJ_Er_oHxeBbFfVw/s1600-h/O+meu+amor.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400733821038169474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm2M_vdQxppicjj5mne487-onQmDdunSBbY_5btq2LrO3XNQKhMoJwvkxQEEkoxP_28RI7CahWmdL2CUzD6ri734SPhqMuM4WuYWffntPHjqLgt-ile6cmRwdkaEiWJ_Er_oHxeBbFfVw/s400/O+meu+amor.jpg" /></a>O meu amor consola como o pão<br />Fresco é melhor mas quente dá paixão<br />O meu amor roda como o sol<br />E faz de mim pião<br /><br />As ruas da minha sede vão todas dar ao seu corpo<br />É cais, é casa e é porto dos beijos com que me perde<br />E deito o barro á parede pedindo que não me deixe<br />Eu quero ser como o peixe nas malhas da sua rede<br /><br />O meu amor é doce como o mel<br />Dourada côr do tom da sua pele<br />O meu amor roda como o mar<br />E faz de mim batel<br /><br />As ruas da minha sede vão todas dar ao seu corpo<br />É cais, é casa e é porto dos beijos com que me perde<br />E deito o barro á parede pedindo que não me deixe<br />Eu quero ser como o peixe nas malhas da sua rede<br /><br />O meu amor é sábio como o sal<br />Pouco é sabor mas se é demais faz mal<br />O meu amor roda como o vento<br />E faz-me um vendaval<br /><br />As ruas da minha sede vão todas dar ao seu corpo<br />É cais, é casa e é porto dos beijos com que me perde<br />E deito o barro á parede pedindo que não me deixe<br />Eu quero ser como o peixe nas malhas da sua rede<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(letra: Rosa Lobato Faria; música: Rão Kyao; canta Ricardo Ribeiro) </span></div><br /><object data="http://elvaporcito3.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito3.googlepages.com/ricardoribeiro-omeuamor.mp3" width="200" height="20" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"><param value="http://kikorb.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito3.googlepages.com/ricardoribeiro-omeuamor.mp3" name="movie"/></object>El Vaporcitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13043746470781592232noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3519456171165762610.post-29044609192221723812009-11-05T12:57:00.000-08:002009-11-05T13:03:21.302-08:00Que reste-t-il de nous amours<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqtvnWPDOegNbBnbBgnSQqzruM-SdWl7DHL9R2iJl_qSm5ylYBRLq-GiNBn7S5-AmVsbJbo_GGQaVX-qrVViSPgX05h6Du1nkxu-AumnFlQqYJaRDIlku8XBRY5893_l3rNDmOboeRw7Y/s1600-h/Que+reste-t-il+de+nos+amours.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 219px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400727818536040098" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqtvnWPDOegNbBnbBgnSQqzruM-SdWl7DHL9R2iJl_qSm5ylYBRLq-GiNBn7S5-AmVsbJbo_GGQaVX-qrVViSPgX05h6Du1nkxu-AumnFlQqYJaRDIlku8XBRY5893_l3rNDmOboeRw7Y/s400/Que+reste-t-il+de+nos+amours.jpg" /></a>Ce soir<br />Le vent qui frappe à ma porte<br />Me parle des amours mortes<br />Devant le feu qui s'éteint<br /><br />Ce soir<br />C'est une chanson d'automne<br />Dans la maison qui frissonne<br />Et je pense aux jours lointains<br /><br />Que reste-t-il de nos amours<br />Que reste-t-il de ces beaux jours<br />Une photo, vieille photo<br />De ma jeunesse<br /><br />Que reste-t-il des billets doux<br />Des mois d'avril, des rendez-vous<br />Un souvenir qui me poursuit<br />Sans cesse<br /><br />Bonheur fané, cheveux au vent<br />Baisers volés, rêves émouvants<br />Que reste-t-il de tout cela<br />Dites-le-moi<br /><br />Un petit village, un vieux clocher<br />Un paysage si bien caché<br />Et dans un nuage le cher visage<br />De mon passé<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(Charles Trenet)</span> </div><br /><object data="http://gonzalohy.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://gonzalohy.googlepages.com/CharlesTrenet-Quereste-t-ildenosamou.mp3" width="200" height="20" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"><param value="http://kikorb.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://gonzalohy.googlepages.com/CharlesTrenet-Quereste-t-ildenosamou.mp3" name="movie"/></object>El Vaporcitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13043746470781592232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3519456171165762610.post-4256847992871659042009-11-05T12:45:00.000-08:002009-11-05T12:50:22.955-08:00Moondance<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEJrAtKqPwvj-V1-aegZ8j5OLN41ngUgLNmvzaOM7jeqmVP3qrPAeFgY4z37vz9SrCyh0r2Zvsvuu1ak5coJ7FqCTqp_X-yU2ohoqhlfVJq4V5QgW3e7YO2NEojtfRwhizlRX6yLE2itY/s1600-h/Moondance.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400724091991061394" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEJrAtKqPwvj-V1-aegZ8j5OLN41ngUgLNmvzaOM7jeqmVP3qrPAeFgY4z37vz9SrCyh0r2Zvsvuu1ak5coJ7FqCTqp_X-yU2ohoqhlfVJq4V5QgW3e7YO2NEojtfRwhizlRX6yLE2itY/s400/Moondance.jpg" /></a>Well it's a marvelous night for a moondance<br />With the stars up above in your eyes<br />A fantabulous night to make romance<br />'Neath the cover of October skies<br />And all the leaves on the trees are falling<br />To the sound of the breezes that blow<br />And I'm trying to please to the calling<br />Of your heart-strings that play soft and low<br />You know the night's magic<br />Seems to whisper and hush<br />And all the soft moonlight<br />Seems to shine in your blush...<br /><br />Can I just have one a' more moondance with you, my love?<br />Can I just make some more romance with a' you, my love?<br /><br />Well I wanna make love to you tonight<br />I can't wait till the morning has come<br />And I know now the time is just right<br />And straight into my arms you will run<br />And when you come my heart will be waiting<br />To make sure that you're never alone<br />There and then all my dreams will come true dear<br />There and then I will make you my own<br />And every time I touch you, you just tremble inside<br />And I know how much you want me that, you can't hide...<br /><br />Can I just have one a' more moondance with you, my love?<br />Can I just make some more romance with a' you, my love?<br /><br />Well it's a marvelous night for a moondance<br />With the stars up above in your eyes<br />A fantabulous night to make romance<br />'Neath the cover of October skies<br />And all the leaves on the trees are falling<br />To the sound of the breezes that blow<br />And I'm trying to please to the calling<br />Of your heart-strings that play soft and low<br />You know the night's magic<br />Seems to whisper and hush<br />And all the soft moonlight<br />Seems to shine in your blush...<br /><br />One more moondance with you<br />In the moonlight<br />On a magic night<br />There's a moonlight<br />On a magic night<br />Can't I just have one more dance with you, my love?<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(Van Morrison) </span></div><br /><object data="http://elvaporcito3.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito3.googlepages.com/vanmorrison-moondance.mp3" width="200" height="20" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"><param value="http://kikorb.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito3.googlepages.com/vanmorrison-moondance.mp3" name="movie"/></object>El Vaporcitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13043746470781592232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3519456171165762610.post-11369754418505688312009-09-03T11:08:00.000-07:002009-09-03T11:15:53.639-07:00Escrevi teu nome no vento<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3NNj8nLhq3f1c6O9h61opZZuoxyMez-ckc0zOUdLvumvwcY7hIBcfiXhw-y841np5_-eRKLsi7S6otPZq4kW5VWPtZdRsZDKOcoWQfJrN_O0djGwthtMiRNIV3qpdPQUjope81PoQZe0/s1600-h/paolo+pedelini.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377305681264367618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3NNj8nLhq3f1c6O9h61opZZuoxyMez-ckc0zOUdLvumvwcY7hIBcfiXhw-y841np5_-eRKLsi7S6otPZq4kW5VWPtZdRsZDKOcoWQfJrN_O0djGwthtMiRNIV3qpdPQUjope81PoQZe0/s400/paolo+pedelini.jpg" /></a>Escrevi teu nome no vento<br />Convencido que o escrevia<br />Na folha do esquecimento<br />Que no vento se perdia<br /><br />E ao vê-lo seguir envolto<br />Na poeira do caminho<br />Julguei meu coração solto<br />Dos elos do teu carinho<br /><br />Pobre de mim, não pensava<br />Que tal e qual como eu<br />O vento se apaixonava<br />Por esse nome que é teu<br /><br />E em quanto o vento se agita<br />Agita-se o meu tormento<br />Quero esquecer-te, acredita<br />Mas cada vez há mais vento<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(canción: Jorge Rosa / Raúl Ferrão; foto: Paolo Pedelini)<br /></span></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><div align="left"><br />(canta Carminho)<br /><object data="http://elvaporcito4.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito4.googlepages.com/Carminho-Escreviteunomenovento.mp3" width="200" height="20" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"><param value="http://kikorb.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito4.googlepages.com/Carminho-Escreviteunomenovento.mp3" name="movie"/></object><br /><br />(canta Fernando Maurício)<br /><object data="http://elvaporcito4.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito4.googlepages.com/02-Escreviteunomenovento.mp3" width="200" height="20" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"><param value="http://kikorb.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito4.googlepages.com/02-Escreviteunomenovento.mp3" name="movie"/></object></span></div>El Vaporcitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13043746470781592232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3519456171165762610.post-85906769457232997332009-08-31T11:40:00.000-07:002009-08-31T15:31:47.833-07:00Muito embora o querer bem<div>Muito embora o querer bem<br />Não seja um invento meu, <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiuTUaInVrZfC21yZlrTjJtpK79Cjcqg3ZT7e7HNXjx6dovQhqMYnEEGCk0nbTz3Ku3D9kD0OnVDUXVlu_vd7nEZAky62f8-XAZBCYwuYeu8-8-Ta9ekejucIAl2Ds3J2ccRDh7yQzkqo/s1600-h/muito+embora+o+querer+bem.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 284px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376199997034975794" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiuTUaInVrZfC21yZlrTjJtpK79Cjcqg3ZT7e7HNXjx6dovQhqMYnEEGCk0nbTz3Ku3D9kD0OnVDUXVlu_vd7nEZAky62f8-XAZBCYwuYeu8-8-Ta9ekejucIAl2Ds3J2ccRDh7yQzkqo/s400/muito+embora+o+querer+bem.jpg" /></a><br />Não permito que ninguém<br />Te queira mais do que eu.<br /><br />Meu coração vagabundo<br />Irá, seja como for,<br />Rua em rua, mundo em mundo,<br />Atrás de ti, meu amor.<br /><br />Estes meus braços caídos,<br />Fugindo a todos os laços,<br />Só vibram quando pedaços<br />Dos nossos corpos unidos.<br /><br />A minha boca e a tua,<br />Mal deixam de estar unidas,<br />Lembram meninas perdidas,<br />A minha boca e a tua.<br /><br />Odeio o mundo, a inveja,<br />As convenções, o temor...<br />Odeio tudo o que esteja<br />Entre nós dois, meu amor.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(Artur Ribeiro / Raúl Ferrão; canta Ricardo Ribeiro)</span> </div><br /><object data="http://gonzalohy.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://gonzalohy.googlepages.com/MuitoEmboraOQuererBem.mp3" width="200" height="20" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"><param value="http://kikorb.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://gonzalohy.googlepages.com/MuitoEmboraOQuererBem.mp3" name="movie"/></object>El Vaporcitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13043746470781592232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3519456171165762610.post-6628034825182744532009-08-31T11:25:00.000-07:002009-08-31T11:30:50.756-07:00Caffè Caflisch<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfJQk5MrFf4lripeE1-tp6r1whctGAnxW4G7ynFyZShaC9wcSXIozr65Wx3UYtU660WUrLuh3fekfeKEQmWuXFqxD7sBgSGc-o5vHjpGFHt04gwTYxa9rehQwoYeCVZo41_g690KAYX_A/s1600-h/caff%C3%A9.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 343px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376196656935328242" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfJQk5MrFf4lripeE1-tp6r1whctGAnxW4G7ynFyZShaC9wcSXIozr65Wx3UYtU660WUrLuh3fekfeKEQmWuXFqxD7sBgSGc-o5vHjpGFHt04gwTYxa9rehQwoYeCVZo41_g690KAYX_A/s400/caff%C3%A9.jpg" /></a>Siamo venuti da lontano armati di pane e pazienza<br />con un biglietto nella mano ed un'idea nella credenza.<br />Dalle montagne in un tugurio, le notti alla luce di un cero<br />la colonnina di mercurio a farci festa a sottozero.<br /><br />Siamo venuti da lontano e abbiamo molto da imparare<br />per questo ora parliamo piano che non c'è tempo da buttare.<br />Siamo venuti da lontano e abbiamo tanto da capire<br />per questo non ci soffermiamo all'imbrunire.<br /><br />Sognammo del sud e del sole, contammo le energie e i risparmi<br />possa quel treno scivolare fino che il mare non lo fermi.<br />E sognando di una dolce vita, notti di stelle e “Belle Epoque”<br />lo sai che spasso è una salita indossando i trampoli in un frac.<br /><br />Ché poi Palermo è un'avventura, un gioco che sembra da ragazzi<br />che non si vede mai un'altura e piove poco e solo a sprazzi.<br />Ed il cappotto è un ornamento che riempie inutile lo spazio<br />di questa casa di cemento che non conosce il sonno e l'ozio.<br /><br />A mezzogiorno esatto, puntuale, mi capisci?<br />Un espresso e un chinotto laggiù al Caffè Caflisch...<br />E poi per chi non prende il vino, el whisky, mi capisci?<br />Per loro pure un cappuccino va bene se è Caflisch...<br /><br />Che qui non mancano le idee e le cose crescono da sole<br />e ci son rose ed orchidee da far mancare le parole.<br />E si vive fuori tutto l'anno e nel pomeriggio un sano abbiocco<br />sull'ansimare dell'affanno e al ventilar dello scirocco.<br /><br />Siamo venuti da lontano e siamo pronti alle sorprese<br />parliamo bene l'italiano e amiamo il rischio delle imprese.<br />Siamo venuti da lontano e insieme a noi ce n'eran tanti<br />nello scomparto di quel treno a non potere andare avanti.<br /><br />Che poi qualcosa pure noi, figli di un piccolo paese<br />dove le piazze son bonsai e si ride una sola volta al mese<br />possiamo darlo e dirlo al mondo senza paura né vergogna<br />che ciò che stiamo raccontando al lor palato non disdegna.<br /><br />A volte una malinconia, un dolore strano, non lo so...<br />come una sorta di magia, chissà se un giorno tornerò?<br />E penso alla luce e al fragore del sole acceso sulle alpi<br />i boschi antichi del Grigione e il cuore batte forte i colpi.<br /><br />A mezzogiorno esatto, puntuale, mi capisci?<br />ci vediamo tutti in piazza, ecco, al Caffè Caflisch...<br />E poi per chi non bebe il vino, il whisky, mi capisci?<br />Va bene un cappuccino va bene se è Caflisch...<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(Pippo Pollina)</span> </div><br /><object data="http://gonzalohy.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://gonzalohy.googlepages.com/caffecaflisch.mp3" width="200" height="20" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"><param value="http://kikorb.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://gonzalohy.googlepages.com/caffecaflisch.mp3" name="movie"/></object>El Vaporcitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13043746470781592232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3519456171165762610.post-31725873956812111312009-08-31T11:19:00.000-07:002009-08-31T11:45:11.695-07:00Voltaste<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNB-l96_ce7BhBEGFTMCcXmVv3KtazApQYhGHQYTHAbMcGNou4fOPogoH2lSaDuuO3K4EFhaJ0JKGZnOsfhfb2em2_OemozwXRLcNBYTeE99odwpMqKOGCZBjL8Lt6-WJ8c1Iywj-JPDg/s1600-h/DSCN1668.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376194924936536098" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNB-l96_ce7BhBEGFTMCcXmVv3KtazApQYhGHQYTHAbMcGNou4fOPogoH2lSaDuuO3K4EFhaJ0JKGZnOsfhfb2em2_OemozwXRLcNBYTeE99odwpMqKOGCZBjL8Lt6-WJ8c1Iywj-JPDg/s400/DSCN1668.JPG" /></a>Voltaste, ainda bem que voltaste<br />As saudades que eu sentia não podes avaliar<br />Voltaste, e á minha vida vazia<br />Voltou aquela alegria que só tu lhe podes dar<br /><br />Voltaste, ainda bem que voltaste<br />Embora saiba que vou sofrer o que já sofri<br />Cansei, cansei de chorar sozinha<br />Antes mentiras contigo do que verdades sem ti<br /><br />Voltaste, que coisa mais singular<br />Eu quase não sei cantar se tu não estás a meu lado<br />Voltaste, já não me queixo nem grito<br />És o verso mais bonito dêste meu fado acabado<br /><br />Voltaste, ainda bem que voltaste<br />O passado é passado, para que lembrar agora<br />Voltaste, quero lá saber da vida<br />Quando dormes a meu lado, a vida dorme lá fora<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(letra: Joaquim Pimentel; foto: Gonzalo HY; canta Beatriz da Conceição) </span></div><br /><object data="http://elvaporcito2.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito2.googlepages.com/voltaste.mp3" width="200" height="20" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"><param value="http://kikorb.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito2.googlepages.com/voltaste.mp3" name="movie"/></object>El Vaporcitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13043746470781592232noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3519456171165762610.post-86387759714188261512009-06-17T13:04:00.000-07:002009-06-17T13:08:20.521-07:00Era<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmz5Ka0U_OScSZ83hnlCYVMfjFNuOxaywMRBYLkDcbgM6ub9OaEDQw4yVbLzgpsbFFhhIxQWTuhvI1aVq5OdslZBeffr6flYclBUmMNQGpkvPIlU0VntxEyaZwRbWBJ6Zzcw-sh9p_Vbc/s1600-h/Era.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348390666321743778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmz5Ka0U_OScSZ83hnlCYVMfjFNuOxaywMRBYLkDcbgM6ub9OaEDQw4yVbLzgpsbFFhhIxQWTuhvI1aVq5OdslZBeffr6flYclBUmMNQGpkvPIlU0VntxEyaZwRbWBJ6Zzcw-sh9p_Vbc/s400/Era.jpg" border="0" /></a>Era simplemente que no se tenían más:<br />se saturaron tanto del equilibrio<br />preso, falso,<br />y el espanto de no saber romper<br />con todo lo hermoso que ya fue.<br /><br />Era más cuestión de falta de sinceridad:<br />lágrimas encerradas tras la sonrisa,<br />mueca desaparecida;<br />suerte de oscuridad<br />que transforma amor en soledad.<br /><br />Murió la luna de los enamorados<br />convencidos de que sólo muertos<br />no estarán.<br />Llegó la implosión,<br />el trecho amargo de la desesperanza.<br /><br />Simplemente, que no se tenían más;<br />suerte de oscuridad que transforma amor en soledad.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(canción: Santiago Feliú; foto: Alex Felipe) </span></div><br /><object data="http://elvaporcito4.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito4.googlepages.com/01-Era.mp3" width="200" height="20" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"><param value="http://kikorb.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito4.googlepages.com/01-Era.mp3" name="movie"/></object>El Vaporcitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13043746470781592232noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3519456171165762610.post-27974681840684116572009-06-17T12:54:00.000-07:002009-06-17T13:01:24.420-07:00Estranha forma de vida<br>Foi por vontade de Deus <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3RrW2ArrnoCklXY1fa3h5hYjdOhKCAvaSIKZ1OsKiLd1CZ5g6hzpE7FTCpsWQQBGQUh4Raeawo_lL9L1iL6bXnSKTUQyDzYgbFUN1QiUdwXsiFbwdsLAfv4jxkeu7NwXZ7C0FYm_1f3A/s1600-h/Estranha+forma+de+vida.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348387991924075138" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 293px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3RrW2ArrnoCklXY1fa3h5hYjdOhKCAvaSIKZ1OsKiLd1CZ5g6hzpE7FTCpsWQQBGQUh4Raeawo_lL9L1iL6bXnSKTUQyDzYgbFUN1QiUdwXsiFbwdsLAfv4jxkeu7NwXZ7C0FYm_1f3A/s400/Estranha+forma+de+vida.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Que eu vivo nesta ansiedade<br />Que todos os ais são meus<br />Que é toda a minha a saudade<br />Foi por vontade de Deus<br /><br />Que estranha forma de vida<br />Tem este meu coração<br />Vive de vida perdida<br />Quem lhe daria o condão<br />Que estranha forma de vida<br /><br />Coração independente<br />Coração que não comando<br />Vives perdido entre a gente<br />Teimosamente sangrando<br />Coração independente<br /><br />Eu não te acompanho mais<br />Pára, deixa de bater<br />Se não sabes onde vais<br />Porque teimas em correr<br />Eu não te acompanho mais<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(canción: Amália Rodrigues / Alfredo Marceneiro; <br />foto: Eve Arnold)</span><br /><br /><object data="http://elvaporcito4.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito4.googlepages.com/Estranhaformadevida.mp3" width="200" height="20" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"><param value="http://kikorb.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito4.googlepages.com/Estranhaformadevida.mp3" name="movie"/></object>El Vaporcitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13043746470781592232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3519456171165762610.post-73116282495236595622009-06-11T14:36:00.000-07:002009-06-12T06:19:05.498-07:00Jo, l'invertit de cos i d'ànima<em><span style="font-size:85%;">a Marlen</span></em><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDTh1cMfEQZ9Co4vYVApnGTeTfuVak_69bOx7Zq7QL8xPONaFMOtEmKzKUR2gx0uVls4C4W710bQE6E9GuvPV9aHN2EFP98tuHM2sn4t4pfGkod-tSoUNXm6P31jaeyWsIA7un_87huns/s1600-h/invertit-1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346187585120057714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDTh1cMfEQZ9Co4vYVApnGTeTfuVak_69bOx7Zq7QL8xPONaFMOtEmKzKUR2gx0uVls4C4W710bQE6E9GuvPV9aHN2EFP98tuHM2sn4t4pfGkod-tSoUNXm6P31jaeyWsIA7un_87huns/s400/invertit-1.jpg" border="0" /></a>Jo, l’invertit de cos i d’ànima,<br />Jo, que he estat el vici privat d’algun pròcer,<br />el caprici dels qui saben parlar<br />i un signe del meu temps,<br />no he de merèixer un plany quan mori?<br />(Serà de nit, dins un local de joc,<br />o dins un tren descarrilat,<br />o als sidatoris d’algun país pobre<br />i llunyà)<br /><br />Tot i que, per altra banda,<br />mai no es pot descartar un final<br />com en aquelles notes breus de premsa<br />que informen de certs accidents domèstics:<br />el gas, la flama, un moment de descuit,<br />i un altre fill de puta se'n va al cel.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(canción: Sebastià Alzamora / Juan Gómez “Chicuelo”; foto: Christopher Anderson)</span> </div><br /><object data="http://gonzalohy.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://gonzalohy.googlepages.com/jolinvertitdecosidnima.mp3" width="200" height="20" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"><param value="http://kikorb.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://gonzalohy.googlepages.com/jolinvertitdecosidnima.mp3" name="movie"/></object>El Vaporcitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13043746470781592232noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3519456171165762610.post-65374605838798869082009-06-11T14:20:00.000-07:002009-06-11T14:35:52.881-07:00I'm Your Man<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnEoytPyH16bgz17vdYMfr64uYcM8hoFTiXOK7IMM1LtvLgNrN00JYTEo-F1rsj2z0e4MBDzEZfsmA_B1MEZnlBht2ybqkDUjmn2kMfL4f55eK44JLaXxYgPSm5EfR44_QTG_zswDoYqQ/s1600-h/I'm+Your+Man.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346186634143017634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnEoytPyH16bgz17vdYMfr64uYcM8hoFTiXOK7IMM1LtvLgNrN00JYTEo-F1rsj2z0e4MBDzEZfsmA_B1MEZnlBht2ybqkDUjmn2kMfL4f55eK44JLaXxYgPSm5EfR44_QTG_zswDoYqQ/s400/I'm+Your+Man.JPG" border="0" /></a>If you want a lover<br />I'll do anything you ask me to<br />And if you want another kind of love<br />I'll wear a mask for you<br />If you want a partner<br />Take my hand<br />Or if you want to strike me down in anger<br />Here I stand<br />I'm your man<br /><br />If you want a boxer<br />I will step into the ring for you<br />And if you want a doctor<br />I'll examine every inch of you<br />If you want a driver<br />Climb inside<br />Or if you want to take me for a ride<br />You know you can<br />I'm your man<br /><br />Ah, the moon's too bright<br />The chain's too tight<br />The beast won't go to sleep<br />I've been running through these promises to you<br />That I made and I could not keep<br />Ah but a man never got a woman back<br />Not by begging on his knees<br />Or I'd crawl to you baby<br />And I'd fall at your feet<br />And I'd howl at your beauty<br />Like a dog in heat<br />And I'd claw at your heart<br />And I'd tear at your sheet<br />I'd say please, please<br />I'm your man<br /><br />And if you've got to sleep<br />A moment on the road<br />I will steer for you<br />And if you want to work the street alone<br />I'll disappear for you<br />If you want a father for your child<br />Or only want to walk with me a while<br />Across the sand<br />I'm your man<br /><br />If you want a lover<br />I'll do anything you ask me to<br />And if you want another kind of love<br />I'll wear a mask for you<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(canción: Leonard Cohen; foto: Gonzalo HY) </span></div><br /><object data="http://elvaporcito3.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito3.googlepages.com/04ImYourMan.mp3" width="200" height="20" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"><param value="http://kikorb.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito3.googlepages.com/04ImYourMan.mp3" name="movie"/></object>El Vaporcitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13043746470781592232noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3519456171165762610.post-27231492432768111222009-06-02T12:03:00.001-07:002009-06-02T12:39:36.384-07:00Ciao, bella, ciao<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEina-_wdLY4ABPNhShTuUR2TexJe0FVtmzVrxUbBJ-7vXwu4TS14prHGPjW9oKzygyjjHq7upZH-u7gkTC1qEC7UOuNs9T0cy0z4tIvImAW5TUrVUHG-WVcs6kv6inUtezFttxSOqc2Idg/s1600-h/Ciao+bella+ciao.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342808097611337938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEina-_wdLY4ABPNhShTuUR2TexJe0FVtmzVrxUbBJ-7vXwu4TS14prHGPjW9oKzygyjjHq7upZH-u7gkTC1qEC7UOuNs9T0cy0z4tIvImAW5TUrVUHG-WVcs6kv6inUtezFttxSOqc2Idg/s400/Ciao+bella+ciao.JPG" border="0" /></a>Ciao, bella, ciao,<br />Che le tue labbra possan fiorire nelle notti di cristallo<br />Che accendi come le candele nel deserto<br />E nessuno ascolta il suo lamento<br />Arrampicarsi sui ricordi di un momento.<br /><br />Ciao, bella, ciao,<br />Ti penserò in questo viaggio che mi aspetta e che non so,<br />E in questo tempo che confonde e che non dice<br />Quello che nutre nel suo grembo,<br />Nella girandola di un sogno che seduce.<br /><br />Ciao, bella, ciao,<br />Con questa nave anche tu presto te ne andrai<br />Ed altre mani ed altre braccia stringerai,<br />Ma non saprai<br />Che a raccogliere il tuo fiore sono stato io.<br /><br />Ciao, bella, ciao,<br />Con questa nave anche tu presto partirai<br />Ed altri occhi con i tuoi occhi scoprirai,<br />Ma non saprai<br />Che a ricamare il tuo sorriso sono stato io.<br /><br />Ciao, bella, ciao,<br />Mi penserai quando nel buio tra i tuoi sogni mi vedrai<br />Lasciare il segno di parole mai comprese<br />E nelle curve della sera, <br />nel cielo, mille stelle accese.<br /><br />Ciao, bella, ciao,<br />Mi rivedrai in questa vita o un'altra vita, io non so,<br />E le tue mani ancora un giorno leggerò:<br />Saranno mani grandi, <br />come il mondo di un vagabundo.<br /><br />Ciao, bella, ciao,<br />Con questa nave anche tu presto te ne andrai<br />Ed altre mani ed altre braccia stringerai,<br />Ma non saprai...<br /><br />Ciao, bella, ciao,<br />Con questa nave anche tu presto partirai<br />Ed altri occhi con i tuoi occhi scoprirai,<br />Ma non saprai<br />Che a ricamare il tuo sorriso sono stato io,<br />Che a raccogliere il tuo fiore sono stato io.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(canción: Pippo Pollina; foto: Gonzalo HY)</span> </div><br /><object data="http://elvaporcito2.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito2.googlepages.com/10ciaobellaciao.mp3" width="200" height="20" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"><param value="http://kikorb.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito2.googlepages.com/10ciaobellaciao.mp3" name="movie"/></object>El Vaporcitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13043746470781592232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3519456171165762610.post-28368172036180591222009-06-02T11:57:00.000-07:002009-06-02T12:01:28.000-07:00Märk hur vår skugga<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF0qokY_Kzmk38_ypQm2Pq8ATgnTrZJSc3k6cmf5bmwel3UKRLid1IEOdSVc3Eqc_G3KEFJwfi1UidV7Vb1U41JTDc1bDQqpO8espi_kh-VirdxU9xIUYla_arXqmHc7BJhyphenhyphenDTbFJn7sI/s1600-h/M%C3%A4rk+hur+v%C3%A5r+skugga.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342806792625241922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 397px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF0qokY_Kzmk38_ypQm2Pq8ATgnTrZJSc3k6cmf5bmwel3UKRLid1IEOdSVc3Eqc_G3KEFJwfi1UidV7Vb1U41JTDc1bDQqpO8espi_kh-VirdxU9xIUYla_arXqmHc7BJhyphenhyphenDTbFJn7sI/s400/M%C3%A4rk+hur+v%C3%A5r+skugga.jpg" border="0" /></a>Märk hur' vår skugga, märk Movitz Mon Frere!<br />Innom et mörker sig slutar,<br />Hur Guld och Purpur i Skåfveln, den där,<br />Byts til grus och klutar.<br />Vinkar Charon från sin brusande älf,<br />Och tre gånger sen Dödgräfvaren sjelf,<br />Mer du din drufva ej kryster.<br />Därföre Movitz kom hjelp mig och hvälf<br />Grafsten öfver vår Syster.<br /><br />Ach längtansvärda och bortskymda skjul,<br />Under de susande grenar,<br />Där Tid och Döden en skönhet och ful<br />Til et stoft förenar!<br />Til dig aldrig Afund sökt någon stig,<br />Lyckan, eljest uti flygten så vig,<br />Aldrig kring Grifterna ilar.<br />Ovän där väpnad, hvad synes väl dig?<br />Bryter fromt sina pilar.<br /><br />Lillklockan klämtar til Storklockans dön,<br />Löfvad står Cantorn i porten;<br />Och vid de skrålande Gåssarnas bön,<br />Helgar denna orten.<br />Vägen opp til Templets griftprydda stad<br />Trampas mellan Rosors gulnade blad,<br />Multnade Plankor och Bårar;<br />Til dess den långa och svartklädda rad,<br />Djupt sig bugar med tårar.<br /><br />Så gick til hvila, från Slagsmål och Bal,<br />Grälmakar Löfberg, din maka;<br />Där, dit åt gräset långhalsig och smal,<br />Du än glor tilbaka.<br />Hon från Danto bommen skildes i dag,<br />Och med Hänne alla lustiga lag;<br />Hvem skall nu Flaskan befalla.<br />Torstig var hon och uttorstig är jag;<br />Vi ä torstiga alla.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(Carl Michael Bellman, versión de Sofia Karlsson)</span> </div><br /><object data="http://elvaporcito3.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito3.googlepages.com/14-Mrkhurvrskugga.mp3" width="200" height="20" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"><param value="http://kikorb.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito3.googlepages.com/14-Mrkhurvrskugga.mp3" name="movie"/></object>El Vaporcitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13043746470781592232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3519456171165762610.post-53371166611969128082009-05-20T13:37:00.000-07:002009-05-21T10:31:29.268-07:00Resta con me<div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnG-w-regEwnfb7H_ytHrgc9fITQGd2g33Zf51UgOr88qoh2dNUguxGs3VL_nC3sMJLmKIgm_OaPCeUWRzjsSEz3w0otGofs2wei_wd_9RMpKBp8Q-mixZ8L2my9RMsFTC55c5fREj44o/s1600-h/resta+con+me.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338013167915880066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 373px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnG-w-regEwnfb7H_ytHrgc9fITQGd2g33Zf51UgOr88qoh2dNUguxGs3VL_nC3sMJLmKIgm_OaPCeUWRzjsSEz3w0otGofs2wei_wd_9RMpKBp8Q-mixZ8L2my9RMsFTC55c5fREj44o/s400/resta+con+me.jpg" border="0" /></a>Dimmi tu che cosa dire,<br />dimmi cosa devo fare stasera<br />perché lei resti qua.<br /><br />Resta con me<br />per carità,<br />stai qui con me,<br />non mi lasciare.<br /><br />Fammi penare,<br />fammi impazzire,<br />fammi dannare<br />ma dimmi si.<br />Muoio per te,<br />vivo per te,<br />vita della mia vita.<br />Non mi importa il tuo passato,<br />non mi importa chi ti ha avuta,<br />resta con me,<br />con me!<br /><br />Fammi penare,<br />fammi impazzire,<br />fammi dannare<br />ma dimmi si.<br />Muoio per te,<br />vivo per te,<br />vita della vita mia.<br />Non mi importa se il passato<br />solo lacrime mi ha dato,<br />resta con me,<br />con me, con me, con me...<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(Domenico Modugno / Dino Verde; versión de Morgan)</span></div><br /><object data="http://gonzalohy.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://gonzalohy.googlepages.com/03-Restaconme.mp3" width="200" height="20" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"><param value="http://kikorb.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://gonzalohy.googlepages.com/03-Restaconme.mp3" name="movie"/></object>El Vaporcitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13043746470781592232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3519456171165762610.post-77903527375737220462009-05-11T13:45:00.000-07:002009-05-11T13:53:19.347-07:00A falta de ortografía III<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD1tJdcm2TQtdvxbaoax_IvdQMw-oJ4wN-EuwqetioaqmCFH3ccIvGLy7AxFrbT_YzixsIQ7_JdlfYmuhjKvRbMf-sPx2gpoI1EhFcnA0-DnShISlEe5i88qAflr9fVKyneOFsZObVM6U/s1600-h/pies+agua.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334670688042881026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD1tJdcm2TQtdvxbaoax_IvdQMw-oJ4wN-EuwqetioaqmCFH3ccIvGLy7AxFrbT_YzixsIQ7_JdlfYmuhjKvRbMf-sPx2gpoI1EhFcnA0-DnShISlEe5i88qAflr9fVKyneOFsZObVM6U/s400/pies+agua.jpg" border="0" /></a>Nos queda tanto tango para ovillar las piernas<br />con otra soledad aún más sola, si cabe.<br />Nos queda tanta manga que cortar, tanto cosmos<br />fosforescente, tanto autobús madrugado,<br />y el tacto que a esas horas no se afeita el deseo,<br />tanta habanera en Cádiz,<br />tanto “Desde que estuve, niña, en La Habana…”<br /><br />Nos queda tanta boca que llevarnos al pan,<br />tanto verso aquejado de pubertad, tantísima<br />anemia vacunable, corregible, de infancia.<br />Nos queda el erotismo de la palabra, hacerle<br />el amor a su oficio antiquísimo. Quedan<br />el cucharón diario de asombro, la liturgia<br />tan corriente del agua, el beso que aún no tiene<br />ni nombre ni apellidos, la ecuación que Quien Sea<br />garabateó en la puerta de atrás de la galaxia.<br /><br />Nos queda un chapuzón en el agua pasada<br />que no excita a la noria, que no mueve molino,<br />pero hidrata la memoria.<br />Nos quedan argentinos que aparcan sus piropos<br />en doble fila y besan de perfil y de reojo.<br />Nos queda aún un café pendiente con la duda,<br />suicidar la respuesta si nos matan la pregunta.<br />Nos queda “¿qué hago ahora contigo?, ¿dónde pongo<br />lo hallado, la sombrilla con desnudo, el unicornio,<br />la espalda y la hormiguita, los rabos y las nubes;<br />los pecados que, al cabo, no gasté, los que no pude?”<br />Nos queda tanto, tanto ruido intolerable,<br />salirle impertinente a tanto miedo impresentable.<br />Nos queda ortografía para olvidar las faltas,<br />la belleza de arcángel de Ernesto Che Guevara.<br />Nos queda en un lugar –si queda– de los Andes,<br />de cuyo nombre ahora no consigo olvidarme.<br />Nos queda grande el tiempo,<br />nos queda Charo Vargas,<br />nos queda esta canción<br />hasta que ya no quede nada.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(Nacho Artacho)</span> </div><br /><object data="http://gonzalohy.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://gonzalohy.googlepages.com/08.LeccindeortografaIII.mp3" width="200" height="20" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"><param value="http://kikorb.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://gonzalohy.googlepages.com/08.LeccindeortografaIII.mp3" name="movie"/></object>El Vaporcitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13043746470781592232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3519456171165762610.post-40708258903008844482009-05-04T11:23:00.000-07:002009-05-11T13:50:19.243-07:00A lua e o corpo<div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span> </div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ0YUQfexbtn1NTDQ0e4WcWbvh8HmrQPMl875FyVCAscyygvxZQjG1FxB0a44EnoI9t7N7pjdiyh65empYYGEmmoY0-Ef4tGYkttH98EX9fTc5ZYVT-QagX1N0SFoDw4GsJGVHDUlj2xY/s1600-h/mujer-y-luna.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332037126987251170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ0YUQfexbtn1NTDQ0e4WcWbvh8HmrQPMl875FyVCAscyygvxZQjG1FxB0a44EnoI9t7N7pjdiyh65empYYGEmmoY0-Ef4tGYkttH98EX9fTc5ZYVT-QagX1N0SFoDw4GsJGVHDUlj2xY/s400/mujer-y-luna.jpg" border="0" /></a>Eis que a lua devagar te vai despindo<br />Atrevendo uma carícia em cada gesto<br />De igual modo é que a nudez te vai vestindo<br />O teu corpo condescende sem protestos<br /><br />Mal os ombros se desnudam surge o peito<br />Logo o ventre no desenho da cintura<br />Cada músculo detém o mais perfeito<br />Movimento em sincronia com a ternura<br /><br />Já as ancas se arredondam e projectam<br />Sobre as coxas, sobre os vales, sobre os montes<br />Onde as vidas noutras vidas se completam<br />Quando o tempo é um sorriso ou uma fonte<br /><br />Fica a roupa amontoada junto aos pés<br />Quer dos teus, quer dos da cama que sou eu<br />Estende a mão, apaga a lua que a nudez<br />Do teu corpo fica acesa sobre o meu<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(Rui Manuel / Alfredo Marceneiro)<br /></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />(Ricardo Ribeiro - O álbum vermelho do fado, 2006)</div><object data="http://gonzalohy.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://gonzalohy.googlepages.com/08Aluaeocorpo-RicardoRibeiro.mp3" width="200" height="20" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"><param value="http://kikorb.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://gonzalohy.googlepages.com/08Aluaeocorpo-RicardoRibeiro.mp3" name="movie"/></object>El Vaporcitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13043746470781592232noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3519456171165762610.post-17686614530951429352009-04-29T05:57:00.001-07:002009-04-29T06:08:45.594-07:00Ser aquele<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPQOiMgDI0tJLqrE8aPll3kG2K2MC_ms664It_D5ywR4V9K_WdmOiCrdvy42PQg9ScLE8GG8rYMPcpvJuD2WyjVAmnaEKclmJBrVX9pMYod81jVjY-YUS817XfcH11II59U64-Mk-QPFc/s1600-h/hannes+-+Lars-Daniel+%C3%96hman.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330097130019033314" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 274px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPQOiMgDI0tJLqrE8aPll3kG2K2MC_ms664It_D5ywR4V9K_WdmOiCrdvy42PQg9ScLE8GG8rYMPcpvJuD2WyjVAmnaEKclmJBrVX9pMYod81jVjY-YUS817XfcH11II59U64-Mk-QPFc/s400/hannes+-+Lars-Daniel+%C3%96hman.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Se estou só, quero não estar,<br />Se não estou, quero estar só,<br />Enfim, quero sempre estar<br />Da maneira que não estou.<br /><br />Ser feliz é ser aquele.<br />E aquele não é feliz,<br />Porque pensa dentro dele<br />E não dentro do que eu quis.<br /><br />A gente faz o que quer<br />Daquilo que não é nada,<br />Mas falha se o não fizer,<br />Fica perdido na estrada.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(canción: Fernando Pessoa / Fado Menor; </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">foto: Lars-Daniel Öhman)</span><br /><br /><object data="http://gonzalohy.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://gonzalohy.googlepages.com/15-caman-seraquele.mp3" width="200" height="20" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"><param value="http://kikorb.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://gonzalohy.googlepages.com/15-caman-seraquele.mp3" name="movie"/></object>El Vaporcitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13043746470781592232noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3519456171165762610.post-38097009139250513212009-04-23T09:04:00.000-07:002009-04-27T01:25:14.757-07:00You Can't Always Get What You Want<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd0ucMA6eXvV9SOHdXuCw5LhIVA50mhF3zBf6FchiJQFmVHaZpwqQfWmmCO-bxaf3Q1rkjy2_ARmBRybZ_F3Fyn4OjyQMgvUDTq5VO6B8NQ8yJdFf71sDH6w-q9rcAe0zpVQ8WTR2_-9s/s1600-h/leolo2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327918866867017138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 397px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 236px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd0ucMA6eXvV9SOHdXuCw5LhIVA50mhF3zBf6FchiJQFmVHaZpwqQfWmmCO-bxaf3Q1rkjy2_ARmBRybZ_F3Fyn4OjyQMgvUDTq5VO6B8NQ8yJdFf71sDH6w-q9rcAe0zpVQ8WTR2_-9s/s400/leolo2.jpg" border="0" /></a>I saw her today at the reception<br />A glass of wine in her hand<br />I knew she was gonna meet her connection,<br />At her feet was her foot-loose man.<br /><br />And you can’t always get what you want,<br />You can’t always get what you want,<br />You can’t always get what you want<br />But if you try sometime, yeah,<br />You just might find you get what you need!<br /><br />We went down to the demonstration<br />To get our fair share of abuse,<br />Singing, “We gonna vent our frustration”<br />If we don’t we’ll blow a fifty amp fuse<br /><br />And you can’t always get what you want,<br />You can’t always get what you want,<br />You can’t always get what you want<br />But if you try sometime, yeah,<br />You just might find you get what you need!<br /><br />So, I went to the Chelsea Drugstore<br />To get your prescription filled<br />I was standing in line with my friend, Mr. Jimmy<br />And man, did he look pretty ill<br />We decided that we would have a soda,<br />My favorite flavor was cherry red<br />I sing this song to my friend, Jimmy,<br />And he said one word to me and that was “dead”<br /><br />And you can’t always get what you want, honey,<br />You can’t always get what you want,<br />You can’t always get what you want,<br />But if you try sometime, yeah,<br />You just might find you get what you need!<br /><br />I saw her today at the reception<br />In her glass was a bleeding man<br />She was practised at the art of deception,<br />I could tell by her blood-stained hands<br /><br />And you can’t always get what you want, honey,<br />You can’t always get what you want,<br />You can’t always get what you want,<br />But if you try sometime, yeah,<br />You just might find you get what you need!<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(canción: Mick Jagger / Keith Richards; imagen: <em>Léolo</em> -1992, Jean-Claude Lauzon)</span> </div><br /><object data="http://elvaporcito3.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito4.googlepages.com/YouCantAlwaysGetWhatYouWant.mp3" width="200" height="20" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"><param value="http://kikorb.googlepages.com/dewplayer.swf?son=http://elvaporcito4.googlepages.com/YouCantAlwaysGetWhatYouWant.mp3" name="movie"/></object>El Vaporcitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13043746470781592232noreply@blogger.com1