Dos sonhos

The bats are in the belfry

The dew is on the moor
Where are the arms that held me
And pledged her love before
And pledged her love before
It's such a sad old feeling
The fields are soft and green
It's memories that I'm stealing
But you're innocent when you dream
When you dream
You're innocent when you dream
I made a golden promise
That we would never part
I gave my love a locket
And then I broke her heart
And then I broke her heart
It's such a sad old feeling
The fields are soft and green
It's memories that I'm stealing
But you're innocent when you dream
When you dream
You're innocent when you dream

Running through the graveyard
We laughed my friends and I
We swore we'd be together
Until the day we died
Until the day we died

It's such a sad old feeling
The fields are soft and green
It's memories that I'm stealing
But you're innocent when you dream
When you dream
You're innocent when you dream

Da beleza #7

Na origem da beleza está unicamente a ferida, singular, diferente para cada qual, escondida ou visível, que todos os homens guardam dentro de si, preservada, e onde se refugiam ao pretenderem trocar o mundo por uma solidão temporária mas profunda. Fora de miserabilismos. A arte de Giacometti parece querer revelar essa ferida secreta dos seres e das coisas, para que ela os ilumine. Jean Genet , in O Estúdio de Alberto Giacometti Alberto Giacometti no seu estúdio em Paris (fonte aqui)