Gosto assim...
Não sei de onde vem
Não sei de onde vem
Posted by M.P. at 5:29 pm 0 comments
Há momentos em que o Pensamento voa mais alto que vento.
Há Pensamento que não vale momentos.
Há Sentimentos que têm momentos sem Pensamento.
Há momentos a que o Pensamento dá Sentimento.
Há Pensamentos que trazem Saudade de momentos de Sentimento.
Há Saudade que o Pensamento traz de cada Momento
em que o Pensamento voa mais alto que o vento.
~~~~~~~~~~~
There are moments in which Thought flies higher than the wind.
There are thoughts which aren't worth any moment.
There are feelings which have moments without Thought.
There are moments Thought brings Feeling to.
There are thoughts in which we long for Feeling moments.
We long for Thought which brings each Moment
in which Thought flies higher than the wind.
Posted by M.P. at 9:23 pm 0 comments
In words
Posted by M.P. at 5:18 pm 0 comments
Posted by M.P. at 5:47 pm 0 comments
Esses sim!
Eu não!
~~~~~~~~~
I applaude all those who allow reason to lead them and forget about the heart!
Those are right!
Not me!
Posted by M.P. at 9:18 pm 0 comments
~~~~~~~
Rain drops are falling
Posted by M.P. at 8:23 pm 0 comments
Tenho vontade de ir
Na necessidade de ficar
Na necessidade de ficar
vou para outros mundos
que me trazem
o sabor da maresia
que não me atrofia
na minha vontade de partir
para minha necessidade de ficar.
~~~~~~~~~
I feel like going
to the urge I have to stay
By staying I leave for other worlds
Allowing myself to taste the sea
which caresses me
and lets me go
releasing my inner soul
wishing for a leaving
to my need of staying.
Posted by M.P. at 11:18 pm 0 comments
~~~~~~
Posted by M.P. at 8:59 pm 0 comments
Resolvi assumir publicamente a profissão que tenho!
Tenho mantido o que faço profissionalmente em sigilo por achar que isso não interessa aqui no mundo dos blogs mas hoje digo aqui que
SOU PROFESSORA!
Ensino Inglês.
Ensinei Inglês e Alemão até ao fim do ano lectivo passado.
Sempre tentei cumprir o meu dever e ADORO o que faço de tal maneira que se tivesse que escolher profissão de novo faria a mesma opção.
Apesar de tudo!
E ... está realmente a chegar o momento de GRITAR BEM ALTO que temos uma profissão de alto risco que ninguém pensa ser assim.
Somos tudo na Escola: Mães, Pais, Amigos, Irmãos, e por aí fora... Lidamos com pessoas que formamos e que nos vão formando também. O processo de Aprendizagem é feito nas duas vertentes. Somos os responsáveis pelos Adultos do Amanhã.
Temos DEVERES e temos DIREITOS.
Temos o dever de fazer o melhor que sabemos e temos o direito de exigir o reconhecimento do nosso empenhamento.
É por tal que FAÇO GREVE nos dias propostos para o fazer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I've made up my mind about saying openly what I do for a living.
I've avoided referring to my profession as I find it unimportant for this blogging thing. However today I say here that
I AM A TEACHER!
I teach English.
I've taught English and German till the beginning of this school year.
I've always tried to do what I have to and I LOVE my career at such an extent that if I ever had to choose a profession again I'd choose the very same one I have right now.
In spite of everything!
And ... time has come to SHOUT REALLY LOUD that we have a risky job nobody has ever taken into account.
At school we perform everybody's role: of Mothers, Fathers, Friends, Brothers or Sisters, and so on, and so forth...We deal with people we mould and who mould us too. The Learning process is achieved in these two ways.We are responsible for Tomorrow's Adults. We have DUTIES and RIGHTS. We have the duty of trying our best to convey what we know to those we teach and we have the right to ask those who are hierarchically above us to recognise our efforts in doing so.
It's for all this I AM ON STRIKE on the days suggested for such an action.
(Sorry for the delayed translation of this post)
Posted by M.P. at 8:21 pm 0 comments
Posted by M.P. at 9:26 pm 0 comments
~~~~~~~~~
AGELESS AUTUMN
They get
Into a swirl
Eager of
Return
To my hand
Using my pen as shelter
I catch them.
I reorder them
I redress them
I feed them
With Memories
With stories.
I paint them
With Gold
With the devotion
Of a Poet
In an ecstasy of Inspiration.
Of ancient Melancholy
Of longing to be longed for
It’s this
The Poem
I recreated
Ageless Autumn.
Posted by M.P. at 9:34 am 0 comments
I can now sense the real ecstasy of Feeling.
Posted by M.P. at 9:15 pm 0 comments
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Posted by M.P. at 8:25 pm 0 comments