SUA LINDA

meu livro do michael blumenthal sumiu. Eu ia fazer uma segunda tentativa de tradução, mas falhei miseravelmente. Ia ser da música mais abaixo.

tem dias que eu tenho vontade de mandar um e-mail para o Jeff Mangum se ele não quer casar comigo. Isso porque o cara (que era da banda Neutral Milk Hotel) , com aquela voz desafinada, canta as músicas mais perturbadoras e bonitamente doloridas que eu conheço.
o objeto do nosso “estudo” de hoje é Oh, comely, que vocês podem ouvir abaixo se conseguirem ignorar o pulover horrível.

desisti da tradução, mas saio ganhado, porque agora  sei que comely na verdade quer dizer SUALINDA! show.

Oh comely
I will be with you when you lose your breath
Chasing the only
Meaningful memory you thought you had left
With some pretty bright and bubbly terrible scene
That was doing her thing on your chest
But, oh comely
It isn’t as pretty as you’d like to guess
In your memory, you’re drunk on your awe to me
It doesn’t mean anything at all
Oh comely
All of your friends are all letting you blow
Bristling and ugly
Bursting with fruits falling out from the holes
Of some pretty bright and bubbly friend
You could need to say comforting things in your ear
But, oh comely
There isn’t such one friend that you could find here
Standing next to me
He’s only my enemy
I’ll crush him with everything I own

Say what you want to say
And hang for your hollow ways
Moving your mouth to pull out all your miracles
For me

Your father made fetuses with flesh-licking ladies
While you and your mother were asleep in the trailer park
Thunderous sparks from the dark of the stadiums
The music and medicine you needed for comforting
So make all your fat, fleshy fingers to moving
And pluck all your silly strings
And bend all your notes for me
Soft, silly music is meaningful, magical
The movements were beautiful
All in your ovaries
All of them milking with green fleshy flowers
While powerful pistons were sugary sweet machines
Smelling of semen all under the garden
Was all you were needing when you still believed in me

Say what you want to say
And hang for your hollow ways
Moving your mouth to pull out all your miracles
For me

I know they buried her body with others
Her sister and mother and 500 families
And will she remember me 50 years later?
I wished I could save her in some sort of time machine

Know all your enemies
We know who our enemies are
Know all your enemies
We know who our enemies are

Goldaline, my dear
We will fold and freeze together
Far away from here
There is sun and spring and green forever
But now we move to feel
For ourselves inside some stranger’s stomach
Place your body here
Let your skin begin to blend itself with mine

pelo menos atualizo o blog. né.

caduco

somos cínicos porque somos velhos

os jovens sempre acham que sabem de tudo

e não estão errados sequer sobre isto

nós esquecemos os fundamentos mais simples

nós desbotamos as cores mais fortes

nós pagamos fé com descrença

somos cínicos porque somos velhos

porque somos caducos

com um coração manquitola

e audácias grisalhas

nós desaprendemos o amor

nós temos alzheimer na alma.

360

um carrossel, essa roda gigante deitada

e nós,em nossa humanidade

fazendo brinquedo de andar em círculos

orbitando um caroço do universo sem despencar

orbitando algo da mais dolorosa importância

ah, se ao menos soubéssemos o quê.