1. |
O Mundo ou Nada
04:25
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Somos um monte de histórias mal contadas,
Acumulamos destroços.
O Mundo ou Nada
Na noite sem fim.
Permanecemos de pé na noite
para ver a manhã chegar
A noite cobre as ruas
e ilumina com fogo
o que nunca nos deixaram ter.
A noite é o que sempre quisemos ser.
A novidade surge no escuro do presente
Para que comecemos eternamente de novo.
O Mundo ou Nada
Na noite sem fim.
A política
E a cidade
A economia
E o trabalho
A cultura
E o lazer
Negamos tudo
Negamos tudo
Guy Debord, "In girum imus nocte et consumimur igni".
We are a bunch of badly told stories
And collect wrecks.
The world or nothing
In the endless night.
We stand awake in the night
To see the morning come.
The night covers the streets
And lights with fire
Things we were never allowed to have.
The night is all we ever wanted to be.
The novelty emerges in the darkness of the present
For us to start eternally again.
The world or nothing
In the endless night.
Politics
And the city
Economy
And work
Culture
And leisure
We negate everything
Always everything.
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2. |
Recreio
01:11
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3. |
Carência
02:43
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Chegamos tarde, vezes de mais,
Ao que um dia sonhamos viver.
Somos manadas de animais
Sempre distantes do que sabemos ser.
E quando finalmente nos encontramos
E os olhares dão lugar às mãos
descobrimos que nos transformamos
num monte de futuros vãos.
Somos projectos
Somos planos
Somos números
Mas com a alma vazia.
A maior carência é a da infância
Que perdemos para fazer de adultos,
a que trocamos pela ganância
e por outros pesadelos ocultos.
Estamos perdidos
Abandonamos tudo lá atrás.
Tememos a vertigem do desejo
e fugimos dos amores de verão.
"As estatísticas não falam disso,
mas na nossa sociedade há uma enorme
e perigosa carência de infância.
Nos homens, nas instituições,
na vida de todos os dias."
Manuel António Pina
We arrive late too often
To what we someday dreamed to live.
We are herds of cattle
Always too distant from what we know we are.
And when we finally meet
And glances give place to hands
We discover that we’ve become
A bunch of vain futures.
We are projects
We are plans
We are numbers
But with an empty soul
The biggest neediness is childhood
That we lost to play adults
That we exchanged for greed
And other hidden nightmares.
We are lost
And abandoned everything behind.
We fear the vertigo of desire
And flee from summer love.
Statistics don’t show it, but there’s a huge and dangerous childhood neediness. In people, in institutions, in daily life.
Manuel António Pina
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4. |
Miragem
03:27
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Curvamo-nos
Perante ti.
Curvamo-nos
Perante ti.
Que ainda preservas
O mar como paisagem;
Que só vês abundância
Onde há escassez.
Escondemo-nos
Atrás de ti.
Escondemo-nos
Atrás de ti.
Somos cínicos profissionais
Em performance permanente.
Se nos unem as correntes
Se nos negam a paixão
Não será isto uma prisão?
"O velho mundo está a morrer
mas o novo tarda em chegar".
Erguemo-nos
Contra ti.
Erguemo-nos
Contra ti.
"...curvo-me perante ti, que ainda és capaz de olhar para o mar sem ver o óleo, a poluição, os sacos de plástico, as camisas de vénus, os barcos de guerra ameaçadores, que ainda és capaz de preservar o mar como paisagem, mesmo quando ainda não o vês porque estás nesse jogo melancólico, ainda ele infantil de pensar e não pensar."
Dinis Machado, "O que diz Molero"
We bow down
Before you
We bow down
Before you.
You that preserve
The sea as a landscape
You that only see abundance
Where there’s scarcity.
We hide
Behind you
We hide
Behind you
We are professional cynics
In permanent performance.
If we are connected by chains
If passion is denied to us
Isn’t this a prison?
“The old world is dying
But the new one lingers”
We stand up
Against you
We stand up
Against you.
"...we bow down in front of you, that are still able to look at the sea without seeing the oil, the pollution, the plastic bags, the condoms, the threatening warships; that are still able to keep the sea as a landscape, even when you don’t see it because you are in that melancholic game, a childish game of thinking and not thinking.”
Dinis Machado, O que diz Molero
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5. |
Nómadas
03:22
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Êxodo,
Exílio permanente,
Nómadas, desertores
sempre em busca
de um deserto qualquer.
Em cada jardim vazio
Descansa a nossa solidão.
Somos todos os momentos / que foram
E não voltam mais.
Nada temos para vender.
Nada temos
Nada temos para vender
Para vender
Somos fugitivos
de vidas que ficaram pelo caminho,
Odiamos o mundo
como quem odeia o desconhecido.
Em cada jardim vazio
Descansa a nossa solidão.
Somos todos os momentos que foram
E não voltam mais.
Nada temos para vender.
Nada temos
Nada temos para vender
Para vender
------------------------------
Exodus,
Permanent exile,
Nomads, defectors,
Always looking for
Any given desert.
In each empty garden
Rests our loneliness
We are all the moments that were gone
And will never return.
We have nothing to sell
We have nothing
We have nothing to sell
We have nothing
We are fugitives
Of lives lost along the path.
We hate the world
As the unknown is hated.
In each empty garden
Rests our loneliness
We are all the moments that were gone
And will never return.
We have nothing to sell
We have nothing
We have nothing to sell
We have nothing
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6. |
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Autodestruimo-nos para não morrer
Mas talvez devêssemos esperar.
Esperar como?,
Se é o tédio que nos consome
E quando já esperamos a vida toda.
No trabalho
Com o tempo inútil, morto,
que damos.
Quando obedecemos
A homens e a palavras
Que nos fazem ninguém.
Cometemos suicídio
Cometemos suicídio
Todos os dias
Incapazes de reagir
Asfixiamos na escuridão,
Convalescemos
A enganar a fome.
O suicídio não é senão
O que ficou lá atrás
A olhar de volta para nós.
(Vivemos) o suicídio.
"I commit suicide when I devote, to hours of absorbing work, an amount of energy which I am not able to recapture, or when I engage in work which I know to be useless.…I commit suicide whenever I consent to obey oppressive men or measures. I commit suicide whenever I convey to another individual, by the act of voting, the right to govern me for four years.…Complete suicide is nothing but the final act of total inability to react against the environment. These acts, of which I have spoken of as partial suicides, are not therefore less truly suicidal. It is because I lack the power to react against society, that I inhabit a place without light and air, that I do not eat in accordance with my hunger or my taste, that I am a soldier or a voter, that I subject my love to laws or to compulsion."
Albert Libertad (1875–1908) in “Every day we commit suicide partially”
We autodestruct to avoid dying.
But maybe we should wait.
Wait how?
If it’s boredom that consumes us
And we already waited our whole life.
At work,
With the useless and dead time
we give.
When we obey
To people and words
That make us nobodies.
Unable to react
We choke in the darkness.
We convalesce
Deceiving hunger.
Suicide is no more than
What was left behind
Looking back at us.
(We live) Suicide
"I commit suicide when I devote, to hours of absorbing work, an amount of energy which I am not able to recapture, or when I engage in work which I know to be useless.…I commit suicide whenever I consent to obey oppressive men or measures. I commit suicide whenever I convey to another individual, by the act of voting, the right to govern me for four years.…Complete suicide is nothing but the final act of total inability to react against the environment. These acts, of which I have spoken of as partial suicides, are not therefore less truly suicidal. It is because I lack the power to react against society, that I inhabit a place without light and air, that I do not eat in accordance with my hunger or my taste, that I am a soldier or a voter, that I subject my love to laws or to compulsion."
Albert Libertad (1875–1908) in “Every day we commit suicide partially”
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