tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22151517625115273952024-03-27T15:43:12.659+00:00CONTOS DE FADAS NÃO DE REISiaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07565975923044033821noreply@blogger.comBlogger366125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2215151762511527395.post-18294897209124170562024-03-21T10:27:00.002+00:002024-03-21T10:27:46.421+00:00que sabes<p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>que sabes </p><p>do verso</p><p>que é sentido </p><p>do amor</p><p>que é só </p><p><br /></p><p><i>Inez Andrade Paes in todos os dias - 21 de Março de 2024</i></p>iaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07565975923044033821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2215151762511527395.post-1896314613941193522024-02-17T19:30:00.000+00:002024-02-17T19:30:39.448+00:00<p><a href="https://quiasmo.net/2024/01/09/a-transparencia-que-se-une-por-entre-as-arvores-i-5-poemas-de-inez-andrade-paes/"> “A transparência que se une por entre as árvores” </a></p><p><i>in Quiasmo<a href="https://quiasmo.net/2024/01/09/a-transparencia-que-se-une-por-entre-as-arvores-i-5-poemas-de-inez-andrade-paes/"> 5 poemas de Inez Andrade Paes</a> </i></p>iaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07565975923044033821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2215151762511527395.post-5413696232667838932024-02-03T14:44:00.004+00:002024-02-03T14:49:51.857+00:00"Humuvia"<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-SeDGCqOmOJoPhC2TlEG633P1_81TPeXAePqNQe4FXRlSsNL-7wLgGlremroxuslVlZnzynXmseYFBzQZk5X15I60XTfDIg7usDkm2GcB1dGucQKUJKCxVwzs2S41hZyZZ-TzqW2Bv5_oYqeYweObYWw_Gc0281W5xJcs5_E09nE4TP9FAXvoK_eg-pw/s1354/Humuvia.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1354" data-original-width="860" height="193" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-SeDGCqOmOJoPhC2TlEG633P1_81TPeXAePqNQe4FXRlSsNL-7wLgGlremroxuslVlZnzynXmseYFBzQZk5X15I60XTfDIg7usDkm2GcB1dGucQKUJKCxVwzs2S41hZyZZ-TzqW2Bv5_oYqeYweObYWw_Gc0281W5xJcs5_E09nE4TP9FAXvoK_eg-pw/w123-h193/Humuvia.jpg" width="123" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">parto à morte que me cerca</p><p class="MsoNormal">parto à morte </p><p class="MsoNormal">que me cega</p><p class="MsoNormal">nestas águas transparentes</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>Quatro primeiros versos do poema com o qual colaboro em: "Humuvia" Antologia poética organizada por F. Domene, S. Aguaded e D. Pérez Venegas; Palabras Mayores – Editorial Alhulia, Granada, 2023 (p.35)</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>iaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07565975923044033821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2215151762511527395.post-50641162773631065552024-01-23T13:45:00.000+00:002024-01-23T13:45:00.845+00:00“O Fogo do Fogo No Fogo”<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjnxshZfl2ySNYhO0GMel-iY7ZatVGDa2P6iW9gIovZFz8WkbStUvuW6KENtQSVoMJKS04MF4549xbt-hIpfXGCcWhadX9gtp0mimeYA5ObE5Jq__E7D4rn2LOchBnqCsuyyzStgm13RTonYe-ePLVhDpbSjrLsa3R1q9GEC9oxC3LWkPVm7n3-5Ayq8QY" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="528" data-original-width="365" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjnxshZfl2ySNYhO0GMel-iY7ZatVGDa2P6iW9gIovZFz8WkbStUvuW6KENtQSVoMJKS04MF4549xbt-hIpfXGCcWhadX9gtp0mimeYA5ObE5Jq__E7D4rn2LOchBnqCsuyyzStgm13RTonYe-ePLVhDpbSjrLsa3R1q9GEC9oxC3LWkPVm7n3-5Ayq8QY=w139-h201" width="139" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><i><br /></i></p><p><i>A Luísa Demétrio Raposo pelo seu livro </i><i>“O Fogo do Fogo No Fogo”</i></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><i> </i></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">erupções voluptuosas<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">que se tresmalham entre a suave<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">pétala<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">e a crueza carnal de lasciva súplica<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">incompreensão ?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">serão palavras as culpas de um corpo <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">que se desnuda e a social ética<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">sobressai <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>gela entre olhares de dúvida<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">e a vermelhidão espásmica alterando o sangue<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">em desvario<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">comam e bebam sem descanso<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>lambam
as carnes menos insanas</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">toquem todos os sinos<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>Inez Andrade Paes </i><o:p></o:p></p><br /><p></p>iaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07565975923044033821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2215151762511527395.post-82071543336286503382024-01-19T15:59:00.002+00:002024-02-03T14:04:51.249+00:00Em baldio<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhhZTGu5qr-8nU1csbM10BE3oct1nMIGjHc_cBTX6ra9I7J2xw7BYksNtu6CBqTVGkcE5cvv7xrCF_ZC0jRt7UlHl4HYFRGV7bQ1pU7OzCVHz95jNbj8PHeZWiAlxhRlO85ZLSxKkfHkkLS6E5a26dsy-thSfwhPa87M8Aoisga1GDO6x0fMbQuM5JHEJ8" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="310" data-original-width="257" height="128" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhhZTGu5qr-8nU1csbM10BE3oct1nMIGjHc_cBTX6ra9I7J2xw7BYksNtu6CBqTVGkcE5cvv7xrCF_ZC0jRt7UlHl4HYFRGV7bQ1pU7OzCVHz95jNbj8PHeZWiAlxhRlO85ZLSxKkfHkkLS6E5a26dsy-thSfwhPa87M8Aoisga1GDO6x0fMbQuM5JHEJ8=w107-h128" width="107" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p>em baldio se deita a terra de lavra inteira</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><i>Primeiro verso do poema com o qual colaboro em: "O Sangue dos Rios - Poetas celebram Fernando Namora" -</i> <i>Antologia poética organizada por Pedro Miguel Salvado, António Lourenço Marques e Carlos d'Abreu; Edição da Câmara Municipal do Fundão, 2019 (p.51)</i></p><p><i><a href="https://salamancartvaldia.es/noticia/2019-11-27-homenaje-iberico-al-escritor-portugues-fernando-namora-43425">Homenaje ibérico al escritor portugués Fernando Namora</a><br /></i></p>iaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07565975923044033821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2215151762511527395.post-57132838753192997112023-12-19T10:17:00.001+00:002023-12-19T10:17:26.619+00:00Feliz Natal<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh97yghuF0jbSdkThak-PVVrOHTUSEpszBeTAsOMvxi590cQRCZE8aOTEaR2oRbBU2PeAwcnllp-flIbPkdA3BtReiIwgquZJsV5e-V1EPcoEewvsSlZGsx2WBaFghdfmuB5S4yQ5KnoMJwrW1bPF6dKnRYhiSqGhgahFadePfwqOKxhCj5f5-Java5JSc/s5057/20231216_090525.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5057" data-original-width="3025" height="664" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh97yghuF0jbSdkThak-PVVrOHTUSEpszBeTAsOMvxi590cQRCZE8aOTEaR2oRbBU2PeAwcnllp-flIbPkdA3BtReiIwgquZJsV5e-V1EPcoEewvsSlZGsx2WBaFghdfmuB5S4yQ5KnoMJwrW1bPF6dKnRYhiSqGhgahFadePfwqOKxhCj5f5-Java5JSc/w396-h664/20231216_090525.jpg" width="396" /></a></div><br /><p></p>iaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07565975923044033821noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2215151762511527395.post-73015931433052568092023-12-07T14:36:00.001+00:002023-12-07T14:36:26.722+00:00ama<div style="text-align: left;">.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">ama</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />alza lo sguardo all’orizzonte</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />lì al crepuscolo la morte lascia la pace</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />afferra il filo della coscienza</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />non lasciare che quel vestito si spiegazzi</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />per un peso che non è il tuo</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />solleva il velo che si è acceso</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />ci sono mani nel grembo di quell’orizzonte</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />e presto si diffonderà in una forte luce di fuoco</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /><br />(inedito, 2021)</div><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;"><i><a href="https://www.ilgiornaleletterario.it/2023/11/26/incontro-con-la-poesia-di-inez-andrade-paes-traduzioni-e-critica-poetica-di-yuleisy-cruz-lezcano/?fbclid=IwAR2UvItvXEPpJko5zEqTcBdUaS7tYgVp6b64hh5rNZAj_zhaPgKBD2ExDNA">Incontro con la poesia di Inez Andrade Paes, traduzioni e critica poetica di Yuleisy Cruz Lezcano</a> </i></p><p style="text-align: left;"><i><br /></i></p>iaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07565975923044033821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2215151762511527395.post-48702056478119619192023-11-24T09:59:00.001+00:002023-11-24T09:59:58.577+00:00 os dias partem palavras<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh_R_ULLZP_hQ0jF7IuQvA61-l3Yg1tJHklju86ug3TMluXTU6d6vOkwxEGMjhuoHMAK1gZpnpg0LATAezT2I4dA0F4L4RJN1JzOnSc9O19pmlvONdNSK_0O81Gyjdk6Z9421RB50bYkBJ56UBhSSH5jtn2RklZjcUqbJnIqkI8D70AA4cr2_XGsBctvoI" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="936" data-original-width="989" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh_R_ULLZP_hQ0jF7IuQvA61-l3Yg1tJHklju86ug3TMluXTU6d6vOkwxEGMjhuoHMAK1gZpnpg0LATAezT2I4dA0F4L4RJN1JzOnSc9O19pmlvONdNSK_0O81Gyjdk6Z9421RB50bYkBJ56UBhSSH5jtn2RklZjcUqbJnIqkI8D70AA4cr2_XGsBctvoI" width="254" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div>os dias partem palavras</div><div><br /></div><div>construindo</div><div><br /></div><div>em nós</div><div><br /></div><div>silêncios</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><i>Inez Andrade Paes in Todos os dias 2005</i></div></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>Foto: CBlomberg</div>iaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07565975923044033821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2215151762511527395.post-63529958271904097812023-11-01T14:57:00.000+00:002023-11-01T14:57:46.650+00:00<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dx33S_sB_5gpa-oisAN1IVjB5PHF57OJsyWcnI_qmvGGN-0g3FjjU104fGfyeCnwGGw6eZK3PcMOpzjHOu4rg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><span style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">Iolanda Aldrei, lê o poema "todos vão de férias" do livro </div><div style="text-align: left;">"Sobre a Água Dentro Dela Anda uma Ponte" (p.21) Glaciar, 2018<span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> </span></div></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: start; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></div></div>iaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07565975923044033821noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2215151762511527395.post-83604856583042667092023-10-06T15:27:00.002+01:002023-10-06T15:27:53.843+01:00SILÊNCIO<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjszqk5U4yMdxXpVjaa9kpN6ephZ25RR4DawJRuozsXkqukLuF4OfZ-unIM2YRdkLt2Nkq5prSpmugWu8McLi7tRdpx5BKvt4DGPYqWsL3sX9tbbJV01WEmP561v4IdyX7WPGTz0Gg4SiWZ_1ijhdqN1ImiBBecCClv3kPAoXd2zmwVfBzGjt9t1PZ6syU/s1409/pelo%20sil%C3%AAncio.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="1409" height="176" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjszqk5U4yMdxXpVjaa9kpN6ephZ25RR4DawJRuozsXkqukLuF4OfZ-unIM2YRdkLt2Nkq5prSpmugWu8McLi7tRdpx5BKvt4DGPYqWsL3sX9tbbJV01WEmP561v4IdyX7WPGTz0Gg4SiWZ_1ijhdqN1ImiBBecCClv3kPAoXd2zmwVfBzGjt9t1PZ6syU/w405-h176/pelo%20sil%C3%AAncio.png" width="405" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><i>pelo silêncio a tua palavra escuto </i></p><p><i>Inez Andrade Paes </i><i>in "Todos os dias" </i></p>iaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07565975923044033821noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2215151762511527395.post-203805257622761792023-09-05T14:39:00.000+01:002023-09-05T14:39:01.114+01:00<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6EblJ6ra51GcZjv24SILPYZj1Y-HJmnr_UCz9gv3Ql9M9CviNBMESQTLvOsAg5ClRGz-15okOwVsmTLvGIki_6cNccqei00yWpl8-XCOCSs3av9lPJtZG8fvTDVhIkv7YTu2MoZ-U089cpBbKKAcq6TnhKVjvHRxTEykc0paLUNefkfDgi4bYqAB6JlA/s1664/enxames%20se%20erguem.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="482" data-original-width="1664" height="118" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6EblJ6ra51GcZjv24SILPYZj1Y-HJmnr_UCz9gv3Ql9M9CviNBMESQTLvOsAg5ClRGz-15okOwVsmTLvGIki_6cNccqei00yWpl8-XCOCSs3av9lPJtZG8fvTDVhIkv7YTu2MoZ-U089cpBbKKAcq6TnhKVjvHRxTEykc0paLUNefkfDgi4bYqAB6JlA/w405-h118/enxames%20se%20erguem.png" width="405" /></a></div><p></p><p><i>in <a href="https://revistacaliban.net/serão-os-cisnes-que-voltam-687750d44d9a">É o teu rosto fecundo entre bivalves</a>, </i><i>Revista Caliban, 2017 </i></p><p><i>Leitura do livro "Serão os Cisnes que Voltam?" de Alfonso Pexegueiro</i></p>iaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07565975923044033821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2215151762511527395.post-55663616684035340102023-08-18T11:36:00.000+01:002023-08-18T11:36:31.959+01:00 CANGAS e JUGOS<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJG5UIFxkUJPmVJsapjpg87jtfoEj6AeTV4HsaQ2nfxbKV6EaYbO-rsn6shxwUfTjwf5FxXukvXebV645-fd-m3OTAo1LMOmijEI_nwQ77Iv70lfM0OONtOTOjgrpySdB12crqvu3_1HaIfxEC4crZtM7JBImFFSunhcnOya5mi8zhg22PY-KjJlC5SQg/s5472/IMG_1305.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJG5UIFxkUJPmVJsapjpg87jtfoEj6AeTV4HsaQ2nfxbKV6EaYbO-rsn6shxwUfTjwf5FxXukvXebV645-fd-m3OTAo1LMOmijEI_nwQ77Iv70lfM0OONtOTOjgrpySdB12crqvu3_1HaIfxEC4crZtM7JBImFFSunhcnOya5mi8zhg22PY-KjJlC5SQg/s320/IMG_1305.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>No amanhecer, não são só os pássaros que chegam para cantar, o som recortado pelo traço do paralelo em que assenta a curva da roda do carro de bois, também adianta o dia.</p><p>Vacas e bois são quem puxa. O cheiro característico que os segue é fardo que nos guia até eles. Umas vezes cheios, outras vazios, os carros aumentam o som no espaço.</p><p>No corpo limpo ou marcado, pelas crostas de bosta seca, o pêlo avermelhado ou malhado a branco e preto, tão daqui, deste lugar onde a Ria entrecorta o chão e avança lentamente com seus braços de água. </p><p>Em junta seguem os animais sob o jugo de madeira lavrada que assenta nos robustos pescoços ligados por brochas e figuras geométricas, a talha já tão macerada por anos de trabalho. </p><p><br /></p><p>dois bois de olhos grandes</p><p>um homem calçado de socas e uma longa vara</p><p>o ritmo de todos</p><p>faz a música do dia</p><p>as patas dos animais pousando conforme a carga </p><p><br /></p><p>o toque da vara no lombo dos bois</p><p>as socas a bater no granito<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>os olhos dos três </p><p>encerram </p><p>um pensamento vagaroso e belo</p><p><br /></p><p>anunciam</p><p>mais um dia de trabalho</p><p><br /></p><p>Inez Andrade Paes</p>iaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07565975923044033821noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2215151762511527395.post-65745150991570635462023-06-08T21:43:00.000+01:002023-06-08T21:43:48.086+01:00<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi62iyBMsPtwSayb4Cs_C_AjE0hDV1cDm4Rep_ZuVX9dje0v40sK7ZWpWenWySYSSUheLq0qth0M2d9fz2kEcThFULhUW807LNtW_EFN0aEgVSp0uth9ZzrjcZd_4JTt-wTHZWclv8GME3Xds7dM0RMI8K07v1E-wnVr0qTsF1PGKIKEAV_Gu1wllFR/s504/podem%20matar%20o%20poeta%20mas.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="504" data-original-width="501" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi62iyBMsPtwSayb4Cs_C_AjE0hDV1cDm4Rep_ZuVX9dje0v40sK7ZWpWenWySYSSUheLq0qth0M2d9fz2kEcThFULhUW807LNtW_EFN0aEgVSp0uth9ZzrjcZd_4JTt-wTHZWclv8GME3Xds7dM0RMI8K07v1E-wnVr0qTsF1PGKIKEAV_Gu1wllFR/s320/podem%20matar%20o%20poeta%20mas.png" width="318" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><a href="https://revistacaliban.net/inez-andrade-paes-ca2fe516e0b4" target="_blank"><i>Da entrevista dada a Álvaro Alves de Faria - Inez Andrade Paes:Poesia de Beleza e Solidão - publicada na Revista Caliban em 2021</i></a><br /></p>iaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07565975923044033821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2215151762511527395.post-16409015132159682492023-06-02T15:26:00.000+01:002023-06-02T15:26:51.954+01:00<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN248-xoGu6VtFn8BoRhV9dA91QNdW5pBQNjaHbtIMa2Cd8rEYZFeYL3W_FKwl2tf0VLfqM4PDwuC3D6zbbDlnuMaGCwrQy3JlVE4W4O8nYShyxZljtRSDEtduB2Py4zYyoa7QfWdBxjUxLV_kZ89QsstEf2W9WkiZb9PgFtn1pk9GprPi-cp5wXaL/s3264/flores%20para%20a%20mam%C3%A31.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1836" data-original-width="3264" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN248-xoGu6VtFn8BoRhV9dA91QNdW5pBQNjaHbtIMa2Cd8rEYZFeYL3W_FKwl2tf0VLfqM4PDwuC3D6zbbDlnuMaGCwrQy3JlVE4W4O8nYShyxZljtRSDEtduB2Py4zYyoa7QfWdBxjUxLV_kZ89QsstEf2W9WkiZb9PgFtn1pk9GprPi-cp5wXaL/w480-h270/flores%20para%20a%20mam%C3%A31.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> <i> "em memória de tudo em que estás viva"</i></p><p><br /></p><p><i>2 de Junho de 2023 </i></p>iaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07565975923044033821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2215151762511527395.post-58226750986922666542023-05-23T10:29:00.001+01:002023-05-23T10:29:36.133+01:00<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal">Cuidado!<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Muito cuidado com a Língua! <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">túmida <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">é a boca<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">de memória curta<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Inez Andrade Paes<o:p></o:p></p>iaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07565975923044033821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2215151762511527395.post-16657938753860174242023-04-06T18:45:00.001+01:002023-04-06T20:57:12.837+01:00<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp8aXAuf0JTy2G9bdow541dst3Qh8vDPzBOJpbK8_ugchjkNLqFxXaF2UeL7RfWcp2pcS6a-T0WtQJvxp3JvuNq_Ye0MECgRIYNYNQeAO9gmcARhxjwuP2ontUSnJPftO1CiFKr2a2KC2npXEWkYoif4j7p4xpswRMf0q9I5ZidztAslpQFqhZpkvu/s1784/hirundo%20rustica.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="756" data-original-width="1784" height="175" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp8aXAuf0JTy2G9bdow541dst3Qh8vDPzBOJpbK8_ugchjkNLqFxXaF2UeL7RfWcp2pcS6a-T0WtQJvxp3JvuNq_Ye0MECgRIYNYNQeAO9gmcARhxjwuP2ontUSnJPftO1CiFKr2a2KC2npXEWkYoif4j7p4xpswRMf0q9I5ZidztAslpQFqhZpkvu/w412-h175/hirundo%20rustica.png" width="412" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT;"><i><b>hirundo rustica</b></i><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT;">do seu azul profundo<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT;">a travessia do mar</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT;"><i>Inez Andrade Paes in todos os dias</i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT;"><i>hirundo rustica acrílico s/papel colecção particular</i></span></p>iaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07565975923044033821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2215151762511527395.post-53002857833704209772023-03-21T11:24:00.000+00:002023-03-21T11:24:04.471+00:00Leio o que me pertence<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal">leio o que me pertence<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">e de mim <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">transparente<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>água<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Inez Andrade Paes in Todos os Dias <o:p></o:p></i></p>iaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07565975923044033821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2215151762511527395.post-25818391778449325102023-03-08T11:22:00.001+00:002023-07-25T16:38:58.895+01:00UMA MULHER CEGA PEGA NA MINHA MÃO <p> </p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">uma
mulher cega pega na minha mão<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">e
todas as pontas <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">dos
seus quatro dedos da mão direita<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">percorrem
as linhas da minha <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">como
sílex que corta um caminho no chão<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">calada
oiço a sua respiração <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">vejo
os seus olhos parados <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">por
cima do interior das pálpebras<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">como
se a leitura lhe indicasse <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">todo
o meu passado<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">respira
fundo <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">fecha-me
a mão e sorri<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">fechando
em si a sua mão e dentro dela<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">toda
a poeira inscrita <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">nas
palavras que me deixam transparecer<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">todo
o amor<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><br /></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><i>Inez Andrade Paes </i></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><i>(Todos os Dias 25 de Agosto de 2019) </i></span></p>iaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07565975923044033821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2215151762511527395.post-22427714472331898802023-01-10T21:19:00.001+00:002023-01-10T21:21:00.589+00:00<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5iO0LkkfGvnLLhRRdQhK2muUd4nzJv9Ud-8TZTgk1AwIXw4Pz0b0TTidqmAU6nD_kKODR1awuv8NN8MvBkCFOEAmBOI9avgF23nAWUVkOLLQjSwDmc_Lc0wX4sSDUKTU13GPuFMwXUJDsmrYPajxR7u6K0Q5gef4KO7CRNmElcdEhHivMfghHCXbw/s5472/PdoSol.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5iO0LkkfGvnLLhRRdQhK2muUd4nzJv9Ud-8TZTgk1AwIXw4Pz0b0TTidqmAU6nD_kKODR1awuv8NN8MvBkCFOEAmBOI9avgF23nAWUVkOLLQjSwDmc_Lc0wX4sSDUKTU13GPuFMwXUJDsmrYPajxR7u6K0Q5gef4KO7CRNmElcdEhHivMfghHCXbw/w447-h297/PdoSol.jpg" width="447" /></a></div><br />iaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07565975923044033821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2215151762511527395.post-16724524645107750152023-01-01T16:34:00.002+00:002023-01-01T16:50:55.328+00:00Bom Ano Novo<p> . <br /></p><p>Por Anna Fresu</p><p><a href="http://www.lamacchinasognante.com/cammina-un-ponte-sullacqua-poesie-di-inez-andrade-paes-a-cura-di-anna-fresu/" target="_blank">CAMMINA UN PONTE SULL’ACQUA: POESIE DI INEZ ANDRADE PAES</a><br /></p><p>in <a href="http://www.lamacchinasognante.com/">"La macchina sognante"</a></p><p> </p><p> <br /></p>iaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07565975923044033821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2215151762511527395.post-44989583902782582472022-12-11T13:37:00.000+00:002022-12-11T13:37:43.977+00:00in todos os dias<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNvbk2WKvUP_csIDdJLmfh0V2fEfa4TswarFFnDAMMkFGmrCo8GukhQnSnT7L8HqKQ0_0Aw7EP6XdAiO5r32iPXTyyOshVCYZIPpCsO-YjU-BZZsUv_7llW1ujz7oQZw_pXgIiQJan-9N56LXY67UZKrtFgVRqOZKAeKIBu0xm72pB3VWUW2VSmDdX/s1206/PicaPau%20Natal%202022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="632" data-original-width="1206" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNvbk2WKvUP_csIDdJLmfh0V2fEfa4TswarFFnDAMMkFGmrCo8GukhQnSnT7L8HqKQ0_0Aw7EP6XdAiO5r32iPXTyyOshVCYZIPpCsO-YjU-BZZsUv_7llW1ujz7oQZw_pXgIiQJan-9N56LXY67UZKrtFgVRqOZKAeKIBu0xm72pB3VWUW2VSmDdX/w400-h210/PicaPau%20Natal%202022.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p>iaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07565975923044033821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2215151762511527395.post-43367718288010255492022-10-03T17:20:00.001+01:002022-10-03T17:28:28.607+01:00<p>Ho bisogno del silenzio del mattino<br />silenzio del mattino lavato dalla bruma della notte<br />che ha pianto pene di poeti destati.<br /><br />Ho bisogno del silenzio più stanco della notte<br />dove le migliori allegrie delle immagini sorgono nella scrittura<br />per aiutare quel che il pensiero risuona e si unisce alla bruma e lava e ci trasforma.<br /><br />Amo la vita nell'inquietudine di me<br />quando mi preparo ad uscire da quel che è logico.<br /><br />(In: Da Estrada Vermelha)<br />(Trad. A. Fresu)<br /><br />..<br />Preciso do silêncio da manhã<br />silêncio cristalino lavado pela cacimba da noite<br />que chorou mágoas de poetas acordados.<br /><br />Preciso do silêncio mais cansado da noite<br />onde as maiores alegrias das imagens na escrita surgem<br />para ajudar o que ressoa o pensamento e se junta à cacimba e lava <br />lava e nos transforma. <br /><br />Gosto da vida na inquietude de mim<br />quando me preparo para sair do que é lógico.<br /></p><p><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
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</xml><![endif]--><i>Inez Andrade Paes in Da Estrada Vermelha (p.5) edição da autora<br /></i></p>iaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07565975923044033821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2215151762511527395.post-82417595450538936562022-07-03T20:19:00.000+01:002022-07-03T20:19:14.538+01:00Encantamento<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ds1ZAQC5OF4" width="320" youtube-src-id="ds1ZAQC5OF4"></iframe></div><br /> <p></p>iaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07565975923044033821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2215151762511527395.post-44794488835622980922022-05-26T09:27:00.000+01:002022-05-26T09:27:06.182+01:00Hoje farias 97 anos<p> </p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 6;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">À minha Mãe que me ensinou a amar<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">sobre a água<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">dentro dela<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">anda uma ponte<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">sobre
a água<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">dentro
dela <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">anda
uma ponte<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">de
noite deita-se<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">levando-a
inteira ao fundo espaço <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">verde
<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">de
oiro <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">um
musgo<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">prende-se
nos seus pés<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">e
marca<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">todo
o caminho de volta<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><br /></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><i>Inez Andrade Paes in Sobre a Água Dentro Dela Anda uma Ponte (p.67) - Glaciar - 2018</i></span></p>iaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07565975923044033821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2215151762511527395.post-78063335735363887832022-04-18T18:07:00.002+01:002022-04-18T18:07:32.152+01:00VOLTA HOJE<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/zxYAAR6vLXg" width="320" youtube-src-id="zxYAAR6vLXg"></iframe></div><br /> <p></p>iaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07565975923044033821noreply@blogger.com0