Música no Pano

Magníficos Coldplay com este tema
Que dá Vontade-de-Dançar
Para aquecer o frio que eu sei que vai por aí
Pela banda do Hemisfério Norte !


VIVA LA VIDA !!



"I used to rule the world
Seas would rise when I gave the word
Now in the morning I sweep alone
Sweep the streets I used to own
I used to roll the dice
Feel the fear in my enemy's eyes
Listen as the crowd would sing:
"Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!"
One minute I held the key
Next the walls were closed on me
And I discovered that my castles stand
Upon pillars of sand, pillars of sand

I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can not explain
Once you know there was never, never an honest word
That was when I ruled the world
(Ohhh)

It was the wicked and wild wind
Blew down the doors to let me in.
Shattered windows and the sound of drums
People could not believe what I'd become
Revolutionaries Wait
For my head on a silver plate
Just a puppet on a lonely string
Oh who would ever want to be king?

I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can not explain
I know Saint Peter will call my name
Never an honest word
And that was when I ruled the world
(Ohhhhh Ohhh Ohhh)

Hear Jerusalem bells are ringings
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can not explain
I know Saint Peter will call my name
Never an honest word
But that was when I ruled the world
Oooooh Oooooh Oooooh"


Coldplay

Sentires-de-Chuva

Hoje choveu por aqui.
A água molhou a terra
E a terra ficou com o cheiro
De Terra-Molhada.

A chuva libertou as cores
Dos Tons-de-Pó.



É sempre assim
Quando chove cá deste lado.
Renovam-se os cheiros e as cores.
Parece que a Natureza
Se aproxima de nós...
Fica mais perto...
Encosta-se aos nossos sentidos
Num sinal de acordar.

E o ar fica mais leve
E com Ar-de-Lavado.


Eudemim

Momentos Soltos

Lavo as mágoas nas palavras sábias
De quem me ensina a arte do desapego
Do largar os pesos do inevitável
E do agarrar os momentos num abraço
De corpo inteiro...
E depois soltá-los...
Entregá-los a quem pertencem

Ao tempo...

E voar nos Momentos-Belos
Como as horas passam no tempo...

...segundo a segundo.


Eudemim

Música no Pano

Tudo lindo !!

Música-De-Mimos-e-Cheiro-Doce !!


If you were a sailboat



"If you're a cowboy I would trail you,
If you're a piece of wood I'd nail you to the floor.
If you're a sailboat I would sail you to the shore.
If you're a river I would swim you,
If you're a house I would live in you all my days.
If you're a preacher I'd begin to change my ways.

Sometimes I believe in fate,
But the chances we create,
Always seem to ring more true.
You took a chance on loving me,
I took a chance on loving you.

If I was in jail I know you'd spring me I
f I was a telephone you'd ring me all day long
If was in pain I know you'd sing me soothing songs.

Sometimes I believe in fate,
But the chances we create,
Always seem to ring more true.
You took a chance on loving me,
I took a chance on loving you.

If I was hungry you would feed me
If I was in darkness you would lead me to the light
If I was a book I know you'd read me every night

If you're a cowboy I would trail you,
If you're a piece of wood I'd nail you to the floor.
If you're a sailboat I would sail you to the shore.
If you're a sailboat I would sail you to the shore"

- Katie Melua -

Contos Orientais

No amor e na amizade há que saber estar do outro lado.

Sentir o sentir do outro.

Este é o segredo.



"O amado chegou à porta da casa da sua amada e bateu:

- Quem é ? perguntou a amada
- Eu minha querida.
- Vai ao bosque e medita. Quando tiveres amadurecido vem ver-me.

O amado assim fez e passados uns meses regressou à casa da amada e bateu à porta:

- Quem é ?
- Sou tu.
- Nesse caso entra amado meu. Nesta casa não há lugar para o ego."

In O Livro do Amor, Os Melhores Contos Orientais, Ramiro Calle