{"id":18413,"date":"2022-05-17T16:35:37","date_gmt":"2022-05-17T14:35:37","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/stadtsprachen.de\/de\/?post_type=stsp_text&#038;p=18413"},"modified":"2022-06-17T20:12:02","modified_gmt":"2022-06-17T18:12:02","slug":"as-sarcas-dos-nossos-dedos-dao","status":"publish","type":"stsp_text","link":"https:\/\/stadtsprachen.de\/de\/text\/as-sarcas-dos-nossos-dedos-dao\/","title":{"rendered":"as sar\u00e7as dos nossos dedos d\u00e3o"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><strong>as sar\u00e7as dos nossos dedos d\u00e3o<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>N\u00f3s dev\u00edamos ir a Ferrol<br \/>\ncantar o il\u00ea com a boca a cintilar<br \/>\npela noite fora<br \/>\nao encontro das gaiteiras<br \/>\nsentindo pelo caminho a urze<br \/>\na confundir-se com a maresia<br \/>\nl\u00e1 onde a preia-mar<br \/>\nest\u00e1 sempre com o cio<br \/>\ne a nossa l\u00edngua come\u00e7aria a encaracolar-se<br \/>\nno fundo das palavras<br \/>\nestalando no c\u00e9u da boca<br \/>\ncomo fazem as galegas da costa,<br \/>\nperxebes?<br \/>\nque suspiram pela debulha do milho<br \/>\ne mal a estiagem se adentra<br \/>\npor estes combros acima<br \/>\nsabem sazonar as searas<br \/>\npor isso viemos<br \/>\numa outra vez<br \/>\nxuntos viemos<br \/>\npara morrer pela \u00faltima colheita,<br \/>\nsem jamais entendermos o que nos aparta<br \/>\nna sagra\u00e7\u00e3o do dia-a-dia<br \/>\nsem que a auto-pista<br \/>\npor onde agora assapamos<br \/>\nresolva a minha contradi\u00e7\u00e3o,<br \/>\nincapaz de encurtar a dist\u00e2ncia<br \/>\nque me arranca da comunh\u00e3o<br \/>\ne me deixa cativo numa cidade<br \/>\nque celebra ter deitado os muros abaixo<br \/>\nmas esconde o p\u00e3o da terra da minha boca<br \/>\nviemos para separar<br \/>\no primeiro centeio do farelo<br \/>\ne mistur\u00e1-lo na \u00e1gua doce<br \/>\nxuntos<br \/>\nbater\u00edamos o p\u00e3o<br \/>\nporque a gamela da bisav\u00f3<br \/>\nque remonta \u00e0 casa do saber<br \/>\ncontinua \u00e0 espera no borralho<br \/>\ne o lume ficaria aceso<br \/>\ndurante a noite<br \/>\ndiante de todas as portas<br \/>\na aldeia haveria de cheirar<br \/>\na relento e caruma<br \/>\npara que no alvorecer<br \/>\nentre o rocio da manh\u00e3<\/p>\n<p>tudo estivesse dito<br \/>\nao oferecermos a broa fumegante<br \/>\n\u00e0s mo\u00e7as que entoaram<br \/>\nas suas loas \u00e0 sombra do carvalho<br \/>\nporque a terra d\u00e1<br \/>\no que a \u00e1gua rende<br \/>\ne o fogo coze<br \/>\n\u00e9 a nossa paga<br \/>\ncomo ontem<br \/>\ndignos<br \/>\nforam os que abrigaram<br \/>\njunto ao calor da fornalha<br \/>\na prostituta muda<br \/>\nque atravessou uma vida<br \/>\nchegada com a tempestade do deserto<br \/>\na quem na cidade haviam coberto de impreca\u00e7\u00f5es e escondia<br \/>\nsob o olho esquerdo<br \/>\numa mancha azul\u00e1cea<br \/>\na quem a minha av\u00f3 bateu \u00e0 porta<br \/>\ne pelo seu nome chamou<br \/>\npara ensin\u00e1-la a bordar,<br \/>\nque outra sina me resta<br \/>\nsen\u00e3o a de amar o bra\u00e7o encardido<br \/>\ndas mulheres de foice na m\u00e3o<br \/>\nporque me d\u00f3i ainda<br \/>\namar o avental sebento<br \/>\nque elas continuam a usar<br \/>\nporque guardo a rodilha<br \/>\ncomo o \u00fanico e leg\u00edtimo ceptro<br \/>\nquando chegar\u00e1 o dia de repartirmos<br \/>\na carga pelas nossas cabe\u00e7as?<br \/>\nN\u00f3s, voltaremos a cuspir no ch\u00e3o<br \/>\nno dia de pagar o d\u00edzimo ao regedor<br \/>\nmal ajeirados sejam<br \/>\naqueles que fecham a boca<br \/>\nao ribeiro<br \/>\ne sacam piascas no adro da igreja<br \/>\nao inv\u00e9s de se benzerem<br \/>\nquando atravessam a eira<br \/>\na ben\u00e7\u00e3o n\u00e3o tem cura<br \/>\nera a bisav\u00f3 a dobrar-se<br \/>\nna laje dura<br \/>\npara arrecadar no avental<br \/>\na semente que se extraviara,<br \/>\numa que fosse,<br \/>\numinha<br \/>\nmas o vento mandou os temporais<br \/>\nna cabe\u00e7a dos corvos<br \/>\ne nos bolsos n\u00e3o germina sen\u00e3o o vazio<br \/>\ntanto aqui como no estrangeiro<br \/>\nd\u00e1 igual<br \/>\no tempo foi-se no que agora \u00e9 luto<br \/>\nsei,<br \/>\nnascentes h\u00e1 que se espraiam<br \/>\nmais no tempo<br \/>\nque a lua cheia d\u00e1<br \/>\nolhemos ent\u00e3o para o longe<\/p>\n<p>onde tu julgaste avistar os b\u00fatios<br \/>\ne eu os silvos<br \/>\nouvir angustiados<br \/>\na pena do gaio<br \/>\nque vinha asado<br \/>\na rasar a macieira que pedia \u00e1gua<br \/>\nprendeu-se nos cabelos da Sitlali<br \/>\na minha cachopa<br \/>\nfazendo-se de national geographic<br \/>\ndeu mesmo com a cornuda<br \/>\npara l\u00e1 da Albergaria<br \/>\nna azinhaga que deita sobre o Homem<br \/>\na v\u00edbora<br \/>\n\u00e9 de supor,<br \/>\n\u00e9 versada em poesia<br \/>\nconvocada pelo poema do estio passado<br \/>\nveio retribuir o namoro<br \/>\naos animais de sangue quente<br \/>\nfelizmente,<br \/>\nfoi o poney bravo<br \/>\n(mais maneiro seria ele dar-se<br \/>\npor garrano de perna curta)<br \/>\nquem na coxa<br \/>\no dente ferrou \u00e0 venturosa<br \/>\nmais a medo do que com a pe\u00e7onha<br \/>\nj\u00e1 que pe\u00e7onhenta \u00e9 a nostalgia<br \/>\npor estar a Leste,<br \/>\npor n\u00e3o ser mais digno dos currais das minhas tias<br \/>\npor escapar \u00e0 pedra que me assenta o corpo<br \/>\nsei, sabemos<br \/>\naquilo que somos algu\u00e9m nos legou<br \/>\nvivi muito tempo<br \/>\npara agora trair a minha esperan\u00e7a<br \/>\nmesmo se a minha carne alimenta duas crias<br \/>\nque ainda no meu colo se deitam<br \/>\npara descansar do mundo<br \/>\nsonharem com cavalos mansos<br \/>\nou<br \/>\no que traz a poupa \u00e0 banda,<br \/>\ncom os doze amigos de uma assentada feitos<br \/>\nque andavam por acoli<br \/>\nalheios a tudo menos aos sinais de vida<br \/>\npara sanarem a ferida<br \/>\nde encontro ao sol<br \/>\nbando de her\u00f3is e hero\u00ednas<br \/>\nque galopavam num festival de alegria<br \/>\nentre o rio e a cantina<br \/>\nque me fez lembrar ch\u00e3 das caldeiras<br \/>\nonde imaginei o santo lun\u00e1tico<br \/>\na escrever elegias debaixo do vulc\u00e3o<br \/>\npara agora rolarmos no magma<br \/>\n\u00e0 beira das pedras<br \/>\narrastadas pelas hastes do gamo<br \/>\nque incandesciam vai para mil anos<br \/>\nmais nuas do que n\u00f3s,<br \/>\nelas chiam quando aspergidas<br \/>\ne depois brilham com os olhos do peixe<\/p>\n<p>para doravante cantarmos<br \/>\nmais do que uma prece,<br \/>\ncuidei at\u00e9 sentir<br \/>\na flor da ginjeira a abrir-se na nossa voz<br \/>\npara beber o ar<br \/>\nque se entrega ao fogo<br \/>\nque se rende ao vento<br \/>\ne queima o rosto<br \/>\nque se desfaz em \u00e1gua<br \/>\npara regressar \u00e0 terra<br \/>\nos meus p\u00e9s estavam descal\u00e7os e empapados<br \/>\ne ainda n\u00e3o tinham chegado a Ferrol<br \/>\nonde a neblina \u00e9 um cerco<br \/>\nainda assim<br \/>\num poucoxinho menos cerrado<br \/>\nque a bruma de Castela<br \/>\naberto e entregue<br \/>\nbenzido e encruzado,<br \/>\nvoc\u00eas o conhecem,<br \/>\no meu cora\u00e7\u00e3o,<br \/>\nficou na flor da fava,<br \/>\nou no orvalho que a p\u00e9tala do gr\u00e3o-de-bico<br \/>\nguarda a esta\u00e7\u00e3o inteira<br \/>\npara beijar a sua pr\u00f3pria vida<br \/>\ne a tua l\u00e1grima rolou<br \/>\nsobre o que te falta<br \/>\na nossa efemeridade<br \/>\njuremos aos versos<br \/>\nque vamos recitar para o ano,<br \/>\nas mainas v\u00e3o descer e cruzar o Minho<br \/>\npara a margem sul<br \/>\ntrazei para c\u00e1 o trigo<br \/>\npara que o sol o defenda do mofo<br \/>\nque sobe das rias-baixas e enfeita catedrais<br \/>\nvamos jogar ao len\u00e7o no adro do padr\u00e3o<br \/>\nsonhar com a roda da azenha<br \/>\nbuscar \u00e1gua \u00e0 fonte<br \/>\nescutai o rumorejo<br \/>\no trigo<br \/>\nolhai de ronda<br \/>\nj\u00e1 est\u00e1 em monte \u00e0 aloirar<br \/>\nali naquela leira<br \/>\nonde o Lobo se enfarrusca<br \/>\nou escuta a est\u00f3ria<br \/>\nmeu menino eterno<br \/>\ngalegas, minhoto, valenciana,<br \/>\nfilhas e filhos da \u00e1rvore que d\u00e1 o figo,<br \/>\nn\u00e3o ficais tristes<br \/>\nque o gado inda est\u00e1 por recolher<br \/>\nmisturado \u00e0 bruma das serranias<br \/>\npara o ano<br \/>\nvamos organizar o baile da geira<br \/>\nescrever poemas por cima dos telhados<br \/>\ndizer \u00e0 Amarela, somos n\u00f3s<br \/>\nn\u00e3o queremos mais nada<br \/>\naceita o sil\u00eancio que nos come por dentro<br \/>\nquando cuidamos que nos faltam<\/p>\n<p>por instantes as m\u00e3os ensolaradas<br \/>\nsabemo-lo<br \/>\na noite \u00e9 mais imprevista<br \/>\nque os acordes do Manu Chao<br \/>\nah, se yo fuera Maradona<br \/>\nn\u00e3o estava agora a mascar a folha de coca<br \/>\ntrincando a cinza<br \/>\nsibilando<br \/>\no meu voto com o teu voto<br \/>\nque canta: a terra d\u00e1<br \/>\no que a \u00e1gua rende<br \/>\ne o fogo coze<br \/>\nporque os versos v\u00e3o empurrar<br \/>\nas estrelas pelos montes<br \/>\nsei porque xuntos sabemos<br \/>\nas sar\u00e7as que existem entre os la\u00e7os<br \/>\ndos nossos dedos<br \/>\nd\u00e3o as amoras mais doces do Ger\u00eas<br \/>\n\u00e9 maina mat\u00e9ria<br \/>\nvoc\u00eas v\u00e3o dar-me a carne da exist\u00eancia,<br \/>\numa morena em transe<br \/>\nqui\u00e7\u00e1 os solu\u00e7os de outra vida<br \/>\nn\u00e3o, n\u00e3o sei a quem este ano coube<br \/>\no peixe secreto<br \/>\nna boca de espelhos<br \/>\nmas sei que o c\u00e3o do Manel<br \/>\nvai voltar a ro\u00e7ar a cauda<br \/>\npelo muro das estremas<br \/>\n\u00e0 sua maneira<br \/>\n\u00e9 o quinh\u00e3o que lhe coube<br \/>\nde metaf\u00edsica<br \/>\nsem preju\u00edzo de quebrar o protocolo<br \/>\nao estender-se na toalha do pequeno-almo\u00e7o<br \/>\ne este inverno<br \/>\nvou mergulhar a vossa luz<br \/>\nna neve que j\u00e1 n\u00e3o h\u00e1<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>as sar\u00e7as dos nossos dedos d\u00e3o N\u00f3s dev\u00edamos ir a Ferrol cantar o il\u00ea com a boca a cintilar pela noite fora ao encontro das gaiteiras sentindo pelo caminho a urze a confundir-se com a maresia l\u00e1 onde a preia-mar est\u00e1 sempre com o cio e a nossa l\u00edngua come\u00e7aria a encaracolar-se no fundo das [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":18115,"template":"","categories":[50,11],"class_list":["post-18413","stsp_text","type-stsp_text","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-issue-22","category-lyrik"],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v28.7 - https:\/\/yoast.com\/product\/yoast-seo-wordpress\/ -->\n<title>as sar\u00e7as dos nossos dedos d\u00e3o - stadtsprachen<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/stadtsprachen.de\/de\/text\/as-sarcas-dos-nossos-dedos-dao\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"de_DE\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale:alternate\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta 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