Armando Taborda's photos

So many stones are thrown at me, They no longer scare. Fine, now, is the snare, Among high towers a high tower. I thank its builders: may They never need a friend. Here I can see the sun rise earlier And see the glory of the day's end. And often into the window of my room Fly the winds of a northern sea, A dove eats wheat from my hands… And the Muse's sunburnt hand Divinely light and calm Finishes the unfinished page. /// SOLIDÃO Tantas pedras me são atiradas, Não mais me assustam. Bem, agora, é a armadilha, Uma torre alta entre torres altas. Agradeço aos seus construtores: nunca Eles precisem duma amiga. Daqui posso ver o sol nascer mais cedo E a glória do fim do dia. E muitas vezes na janela do meu quarto Sopram os ventos do mar do norte, Uma pomba come trigo das minhas mãos… E a mão da Musa queimada pelo sol Divinamente leve e calma Acaba a página inacabada. by Anna AKHAMATOVA (1889-1966), from "WHITE FLOCK", in "SELECTED POEMS", Edited by The Folio Society, London, 2016 (Portuguese translated by Armando TABORDA, 2019) (photograph by Pavel LUKNITSKY, 1925; edited by Armando TABORDA)

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by Tadashi KAWAMATA (plastic debris collected in coastal areas of Portugal) at MAAT, Lisbon

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some clouds have taken the shape of stairs. no, it's not the spiralling tongue of corners. it's more like a ladder, the thing with steps between its two legs that leaned on the wall my dad painted with the flesh of his cheekbones raised as if he was smiling and his eyebrows condensed as if he was angry. /// POEMA EM PAPEL MANTEIGA várias nuvens transformaram-se em escada. não, não em espiral de língua em zig zag. antes como um simples escadote portátil, a coisa com degraus entre as duas pernas encostada à parede que o meu pai pintou com as maçãs do rosto levantadas como se estivesse sorrindo e as sobrancelhas eriçadas como se estivesse zangado. by Evdokia CHARALAMPOUS (Cyprus-born poet), in "THE POETRY REVIEW", Volume 106:3, Autumn 2016 (Portuguese translated by Armando TABORDA, 2019) (photo taken from Internet; edited by Armando TABORDA)

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(extracted from an installation at MAAT, Lisbon)

I WILL NEVER BE ONE OF YOU, 2018 (acrylic paint on wall) by Horácio FRUTUOSO at MAAT, Lisbon "The artist work explores the limits of language, its figurative power and dimensional capabilities"

Today, arrival to the MAAT, through the walking art, with the wonderful architecture under the eyes and a cold to crack the body, technologically speaking

The Tagus is the river where the tides of your smile have place /// Le Tage est la rivière où se déroulent les marées de ton sourire /// El Tajo es el río donde ocorren las mareas de tu sonrisa /// O Tejo é o rio onde acontecem as marés do teu sorriso by Armando TABORDA, 2019 (press z to see in the lightbox)

in this place some episodes of violence and xenophobia have occurred (press z to see in the lightbox)

On the quay beyond the river I lift my arms to the open sea world and I reach and undock my boat in another hug's dream where I awake /// ALCANCE Levanto sobre o cais além do rio meus braços para o mundo em mar aberto e alcanço e desamarro o meu navio no sonho de outro abraço em que desperto by Fernando Pinto RIBEIRO (1928-2019), in "O CISNE SUBMERSO", edium editorres, 2010 (poem dedicated by the author to Myriam Jubilot de CARVALHO) (English translated by Armando TABORDA, 2019)

The branches converge in the tree like chapters of my life in the body /// Les branches convergent dans l'arbre comme des chapitres de ma vie dans le corps /// Los ramos convergen en el árbol como capítulos de mi vida en el cuerpo /// Os ramos convergem na árvore como capítulos da minha vida no corpo by Armando TABORDA, 2019

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