Patrizia

Lean on Pete

Lust, Caution

And all my birds of paradise

You better be, cultivating grace, that is

Estatuetas de Bronze, II

Mulher a dançar, Grécia, ca. III-II a.C., The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

Estatuetas de bronze, I

Estatueta de jovem caído, Grécia, ca. 480 b.C. J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles. 

Cidades

Neruda (Pablo Larraín, 2016)

Descer à terra

Caravaggio, Annunciazione, 1608 (pormenor).

βῆ δὲ κατ᾽ Οὐλύμποιο καρήνων χωόμενος κῆρ,
τόξ᾽ ὤμοισιν ἔχων ἀμφηρεφέα τε φαρέτρην:
ἔκλαγξαν δ᾽ ἄρ᾽ ὀϊστοὶ ἐπ᾽ ὤμων χωομένοιο,
αὐτοῦ κινηθέντος: ὃ δ᾽ ἤϊε νυκτὶ ἐοικώς.
ἕζετ᾽ ἔπειτ᾽ ἀπάνευθε νεῶν, μετὰ δ᾽ ἰὸν ἕηκε:
δεινὴ δὲ κλαγγὴ γένετ᾽ ἀργυρέοιο βιοῖο:
οὐρῆας μὲν πρῶτον ἐπῴχετο καὶ κύνας ἀργούς,
αὐτὰρ ἔπειτ᾽ αὐτοῖσι βέλος ἐχεπευκὲς ἐφιεὶς
βάλλ᾽: αἰεὶ δὲ πυραὶ νεκύων καίοντο θαμειαί.

Down he strode from Olympus' peaks, storming at heart
with his bow and hooded quiver slung across his shoulders.
The arrows clanged at his back as the god quaked with rage,
the god himself on the march and down he came like night.
Over against the ships he dropped to a knee, let fly a shaft
and a terrifying clash rang out from the great silver bow.
First he went for the mules and circling dogs but then,
launching a piercing shaft at the men themselves,
he cut them down in droves—
and the corpse‑fires burned on, night and day, no end in sight.

Homero, Il. 1.44 f., Robert Faggles (trad.)

Gabriel descend
as a mood almost
a monody
of chloroform
or florists roses
consensual angel spinning his words
thread
he descends
and light
sensitive darkness
follows him down

Geoffrey Hill, de Psalms of Assize

Alguns machados

'...always your heart is like the unwearying axe blade/ struck through a beam by some craftsman who uses his skill/ to shape a ship's timber, and it adds force to his own effort...'

Ilíada, Homero, 3. 60f., Peter Green (trad.)


'A book must be the axe for the frozen sea inside us'

Kafka, Carta Oskar Pollak, 1904

Back in the crowd