Dahlia Ravicovitch


Até as rochas se partem, eu te digo,
e não é pela idade.
Tantos anos deitadas de costas no calor e no frio,
tantos anos
que quase se cria a ilusão de tranquilidade.
Não se movem, escondendo as rachaduras.
Uma forma de orgulho.
Os anos as passam enquanto aguardam.
Quem quer que venha arrebentá-las
ainda não veio.
E assim floresce o musgo, a alga
o mar rebenta e volta –
e ainda parecem imóveis.
Até que uma foca venha se esfregar contra as rochas, venha e vá.
E de repente na rocha surge uma ferida aberta.
Eu te disse, é uma surpresa quando as rochas se partem.
As pessoas, mais ainda.


Peter Weiss

These lies they tell about the ideal state
The rich will never give away their property
of their own free will
And if by force of circumstances
they have to give up just a little
here and there
they do it only because they know
they’ll soon win it back again
The rumor spreads
that the workers can soon expect higher wages
Because this raises production and increases demand
and thereby fills the entrepreneurs’ pockets
Don’t imagine
that you can beat them without using force
Don’t be deceived
when our Revolution has been finally stamped out
and they tell you
things are better now
Even if there’s no poverty to be seen
because the poverty’s been hidden
even if you ever got more wages
and could afford to buy
more of these new and useless goods

which these new industries foist on you
and even if it seems to you
that you never had so much
that is only the slogan of those
who still have much more than you
Don’t be taken in 
when they pat you paternally on the shoulder and say 
that there’s no inequality worth speaking of 
and no more reason 
for fighting 
Because if you believe them 
they will be completely in charge 
in their marble homes and granite banks 
from which they rob the people of the world 
under the pretense of bringing them culture 
Watch out 
for as soon as it pleases them 
they’ll send you out 
to protect their gold 
in wars 
whose weapons rapidly developed 
by servile scientists 
will become more and more deadly 
until they can with a flick of the finger 

tear a million of you to pieces.

Kim Gordon - 1977


David Gilmour divino por Bizet

Je crois entendre encore,
Caché sous les palmiers,
Sa voix tendre et sonore
Comme un chant de ramiers !
Ô nuit enchanteresse !
Divin ravissement!
Ô souvenir charmant!
Folle ivresse! Doux rêve!
Aux clartés des étoiles,
Je crois encor la voir,
Entr’ouvrir ses longs voiles
Aux vents tièdes du soir!
Ô nuit enchanteresse!
Divin ravissement!
Ô souvenir charmant!
Folle ivresse! Doux rêve!

I think I still hear, hidden under palm trees, her voice soft and sound like a song of wood pigeons. Oh, enchanting night, divine rapture, oh, delightful memory, mad euphoria, sweet dream! In the clear starlight, I think I still see her, half drawing her long veil in the tepid night breeze. Oh, enchanting night, divine rapture, oh, delightful memory, mad euphoria, sweet dream! Delightful memory!


Ensaios de Billie Holiday -- I'm A Fool To Want You

No minuto 3:15 ela acaba comigo de vez. 

Quero a Billie dos ensaios. E quanto material foi jogado fora. :(


Eartha Kitt - Je Cherche Un Homme

Je cherche un homme, un homme, un homme Un Pierre, un Paul, un Jacques ou Tom Peu m'importe comment il se nomme S'il est un homme, un homme, un homme Je n'exige pas un Apollon Qui sait briller dans les salons Ni un type fort comme un Samson Pourvu que j'aie un mate un bon Il n'a pas besoin d'être un milliardaire Qu'il soit beau, non, ça m'est égal Il n'a pas besoin d'être une grande lumière Star du cinéma ni prince royal Je cherche un homme, un homme, un homme Qu'il s'appelle Pierre ou Paul ou Tom Pourvu qu'il donne son maximum Je cherche un homme, un homme, un homme Doesn't have to be prince or movie star A Texas oil man or a french marquis Doesn't have to be handsome as a picture An ordinary guy's all right with me Je cherche un homme, un homme, un homme Qu'il s'appelle Pierre ou Paul ou Tom Pourvu qu'il donne son maximum Je cherche un homme, un homme, un homme Je cherche un homme, un homme, un homme


Ensaios de Billie Holiday -- The End of a Love Affair

Dia complicado para Billie, quando ensaia "End of a Love Affair" 

para o seu penúltimo álbum Lady in Satin, 1958. O gim

atrapalhou um pouco, mas as primeiras frases estão

mais belas do que na gravação final. Depois desanda.

Mas maravilhoso assim mesmo. Só ela. Sem orquestra.


Don't worry 'bout me
I'll get along
Forget about me
Be happy, my love

Let's say that our little show is over
And so the story ends
Why not call it a day, the sensible way
And still be friends

Look out for yourself
Should be the rule
Give your heart and your love
To whomever you love
Don't be a fool

Darling, why should you cling
To some fading thing
That used to be
If you can't forget
Don't worry 'bout me

Activist Angela Davis rally Women's March On Washington


Demolition in progress

GärtnerhAUS from Martina Vodermayer on Vimeo.

EXEDO feat. MARTAVICTOR – Totalschadens-Protokoll, internet release, Attenuation Circuit, Germany, 17 January 2017
The Totalschadens-Protokoll 20min sound work is based on a diary (July 5–19, 2016) of the demolition of a pretty, old mansion in Augsburg, located in an exquisite park with rare trees and antique greenhouses. The text was written and is read by Augsburg resident Marta Victor a.k.a. Martina Vodermayer, who also released a video of the destruction with her own pictures of the event. Recorded live at K15 in Augsburg on 14 January 2017, the music consists of bold musique concrete sounds by Emerge, progressively getting noisier as the demolition progresses. The entire concept is interesting and moving, a great addition to the formidable Attenuation Circuit catalogue –a Pandora’s box of experimental music.


David Lynch & Lykke Li - I'm Waiting Here

Adrienne Rich


You’re wondering if I’m lonely:
OK then, yes, I’m lonely
as a plane rides lonely and level
on its radio beam, aiming
across the Rockies
for the blue-strung aisles
of an airfield on the ocean.

You want to ask, am I lonely?
Well, of course, lonely
as a woman driving across country
day after day, leaving behind
mile after mile
little towns she might have stopped
and lived and died in, lonely.

If I’m lonely
it must be the loneliness
of waking first, of breathing
dawn’s first cold breath on the city
of being the one awake
in a house wrapped in sleep.

If I’m lonely
it’s with the rowboat ice-fast on the shore
in the last red light of the year
that knows what it is, that knows it’s neither
ice nor mud nor winter light
but wood, with a gift for burning.

Halina Poświatowska

[Não tenho a antiga ternura]

não tenho a antiga ternura pelo meu corpo
mas o tolero como um animal de carga
que é útil apesar de exigir muitos cuidados
e traz dor e alegria e dor e alegria
às vezes fica imóvel de tanto prazer
e às vezes serve de abrigo ao sono

conheço os seus corredores sinuosos
sei por qual deles chega o cansaço
e quais tendões o riso estica
e lembro do gosto único de lágrimas
tão parecido com o de sangue

os meus pensamentos — um bando de pássaros assustados
eles alimentam-se do campo do meu corpo
não tenho para ele a antiga ternura
mas sinto mais forte do que antes
que não alcanço nada além das minhas mãos esticadas
e nada acima daquilo ao qual me levantam as pontas dos meus pés

(trad. Magdalena Nowinska)

Sertão do Caicó


Senadora mexicana Layda Sansores - dez. 2016

Que se privatice Machu Picchu, que se privatice Chan Chan, que se privatice la Capilla Sixtina, que se privatice el Partenón, que se privatice Nuno Gonçalves, que se privatice la catedral de Chartres, que se privatice el Descendimiento de la cruz de Antonio da Crestalcore, que se privatice el Pórtico de la Gloria de Santiago de Compostela, que se privatice la cordillera de los Andes, que se privatice todo, que se privatice el mar y el cielo, que se privatice el agua y el aire, que se privatice la justicia y la ley, que se privatice la nube que pasa, que se privatice el sueño, sobre todo si es diurno y con los ojos abiertos. Y, finalmente, para florón y remate de tanto privatizar, privatícense los Estados, entréguese de una vez por todas la explotación a empresas privadas mediante concurso internacional. Ahí se encuentra la salvación del mundo… Y, metidos en esto, que se privatice también a la puta que los parió a todos.

-- José Saramago, 1997