Sun been down for days
A pretty flower in a vase
A slipper by the fireplace
A cello lying in its case
Soon she's down the stairs
Her morning elegance she wears
The sound of water makes her dream
Awoken by a cloud of steam
She pours a daydream in a cup
A spoon of sugar sweetens up
And she fights for her life
as she puts on her coat
And she fights for her life on the train
She looks at the rain
as it pours
And she fights for her life
as she goes in a store
with a thought she has caught
by a thread
she pays for the bread
and she goesÂ…
Nobody knows
Sun been down for days
A winter melody she plays
The thunder makes her contemplate
She hears a noise behind the gate
Perhaps a letter with a dove
Perhaps a stranger she could love
And she fights for her life
as she puts on her coat
And she fights for her life on the train
She looks at the rain
as it pours
And she fights for her life
as she goes in a store
with a thought she has caught
by a thread
she pays for the bread
and she goesÂ…
Nobody knows
And she fights for her life
as she puts on her coat
And she fights for her life on the train
She looks at the rain
as it pours
And she fights for her life
as she goes in a store
where the people are pleasantly
strange
and counting the
change
as she goes…
Nobody knows
Li algumas coisas da Lara de Lemos, que até então não conhecia, quando estava já no ensino médio. Junto com o Quintana, ela é certamente um de meus poetas favoritos. Lembro que a maneira de Lara de compor os poemas ficou marcada em mim e influenciou em muitas de minhas tentativas literárias, desde então. Agora, há tempos não lia nada escrito por ela. Por isso, busquei algo na internet, e posto aqui. É algo pra ser dividido com outros. Amor/ódio O amor nos dói nos mói nos fragmenta. Difícil compreendê-lo entre mós e moendas. Onde somos o sumo de algo triturado. Difícil amar assim cortado em meios. ************** Ás vezes as palavras se armam de gumes agudos, lâminas de aço, ira de gatilhos, alçapões de pássaros. É preciso esquecer o passado, o pânico de perder o abraço, o momento de doer da ausência, o remorso. Destruir um amor antigo requer ímpeto, fúria, cólera, sigilo. Desferir a seta no exato momento de atingir o alvo e despedaçá-lo. Achei poucos poemas dela na internet. Por estes...
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