Flowers / Flores
The Bride
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Algarve, Zoo Garden of Lagos, cactus (3)
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Coimbra, Quinta das Lágrimas, camellias (4)
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You are given of these red flowers fed up with the absorbing green! Cheers everyone!
Coimbra, Quinta das Lágrimas, arum lily (3)
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I know a stone where I sit
by September shadow
and I will speak of sunflowers,
this almost sand flower
that side by side with the sun
from the weight of his loneliness does
the ardor
and glory of the summer great days.
///
Sei de uma pedra onde me sentar
à sombra de setembro
e vou falar dos girassóis,
essa flor quase de areia
que ombro a ombro com o sol
faz do peso da sua solidão
o ardor
e a glória dos grandes dias de verão.
by Eugénio de ANDRADE (1923-2005), in "O PESO DA SOMBRA", in Assírio & Alvim (uma chancela Porto Editora), 2015
(English translated by Armando TABORDA, 2016)
(1st edition, 2016; 2nd edition, 2017)
A-dos-Ruivos, country house, the garden begins on…
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A-dos-Ruivos, country house, dahlias in the garden…
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A-dos-Ruivos, diptych (1)
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A-dos-Ruivos, diptych (2)
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A-dos-Ruivos, dyptych (3)
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A-dos-Ruivos, dyptych (4)
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A-dos-Ruivos, diptych (5)
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A-dos-Ruivos, three generations
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A-dos-Ruivos, HOSANNA!
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A-dos-Ruivos, at first sight
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A-dos-Ruivos, smooth landing
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A-dos-Ruivos, "to be in the turning of the worlds…
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"To live a dispassionate, cultured life beneath the dewfall of ideas, reading, dreaming and thinking about writing, a life slow enough to be always just on the edge of tedium, but considered enough not to slip into it. To live a life from emotions and thoughts, enjoying only the thought of emotions and the emotion of thoughts. To stagnate, golden, in the sun like a dark lake surrounded by flowers. To entertain in the shadows that noble individuality of mind that consists in not expecting anything from life. To be in the turning of the worlds like the dust of flowers that an unknown wind lifts through the evening air, and that the torpor of nightfall lets fall randomly, to lie unnoticed amongst larger things. To be all this with an assured knowledge, neither happy nor sad, grateful to the sun for its brilliance and to the stars for their distance. To be nothing more, to have nothing more, to want nothing more...The music of the hungry man, the song of the blind man, the rellic of the unknown traveller, the footsteps in the desert of the empty camel with nowhere to go..."
by Fernando Pessoa, in "The Book of Disquiet"
A-dos-Ruivos, olive tree (2)
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