Invenção

Se é por mim que traço
o teu retrato,
a sobrancelha, a boca
o pensamento

É por ti, também
que já o guardo
e o demoro naquilo que eu
invento

A mão descida ali
o ombro inclinado

Os dedos descuidados
o gesto de que lembro

Se é por mim que faço
o teu retrato
dizendo de ti mais do que
entendo

É por ti que o testemunho
e faço:
o nariz, a face dissimulando os dentes

Deixo para o fim os teus lábios
os olhos deste mar
com a cor do luar
a meio de Agosto

Se desvendo de ti o sol-posto
é porque vejo o coração
amar
e nada mais me dá tamanho gosto

Maria Teresa Horta

NÓS

. .a special warm thank you to my most admirable. . .

A Room of One’s Own (1929)

'All I could do was to offer you an opinion upon one minor point—a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction; and that, as you will see, leaves the great problem of the true nature of woman and the true nature of fiction unsolved'.

-Ch. 1

Virginia Woolf

As Meninas Ós

Uma era gorda que nem uma baleia. A outra, magra que nem um palito. Inseparáveis. Os meninos da rua chamavam a uma, Orca , e a outra, Olívia. Logo, viraram as Ós. Os meninos diziam que, juntando as Ós, podiam fazer quatro mulheres normais. As Ós, não estavam para aí viradas. Orca e Olívia descobriram a dor e a delícia. Casaram. De tanto amor, Olívia engravidou da esposa. Deu à luz gémeas: uma bem gordinha, outra bem magrinha. Duas meninas Ós. Mães e filhas são, nas palavras do médico, saudáveis. E absolutamente normais.

Cíntia Moscovich, in Contos de Bolsa, org. Laís Chaffe, Casa Verde, Porto Alegre, 2006, p. 36.

'No Mundo existem muitos Deuses (. . .) muitas crenças, logo é uma criação do Homem'.

Antena 3, Prova Oral - Dezembro 2009

Consorting With Angels

a dedication from Green Elf's most admirable. . .

I was tired of being a woman,
tired of the spoons and the post,
tired of my mouth and my breasts,
tired of the cosmetics and the silks.
There were still men who sat at my table,
circled around the bowl I offered up.
The bowl was filled with purple grapes
and the flies hovered in for the scent
and even my father came with his white bone.
But I was tired of the gender things. Last night I had a dream
and I said to it...
"You are the answer.
You will outlive my husband and my father."
In that dream there was a city made of chains
where Joan was put to death in man's clothes
and the nature of the angels went unexplained,
no two made in the same species,
one with a nose,
one with an ear in its hand,
one chewing a star and recording its orbit,
each one like a poem obeying itself,
performing God's functions,
a people apart."You are the answer,"
I said, and entered,
lying down on the gates of the city.
Then the chains were fastened around me
and I lost my common gender and my final aspect.
Adam was on the left of me
and Eve was on the right of me,
both thoroughly inconsistent with the world of reason.
We wove our arms together
and rode under the sun.
I was not a woman anymore,
not one thing or the other.
O daughters of Jerusalem,
the king has brought me into his chamber.
I am black and I am beautiful.
I've been opened and undressed.
I have no arms or legs.
I'm all one skin like a fish.
I'm no more a woman
than Christ was a man.

Anne Sexton

My Blueberry Year

(...) "the last few days, I've been learning how to trust people, and I'm glad I failed. Sometimes we depend on other people as a mirror, to define us, and tell us who we are. And each reflextion makes me like myself a little more (...) It took me nearly a year to get here. It wasn't so hard to cross that street, afterall. It all depends on who is waiting for you on the other side."

Elizabeth, 'My Blueberry Nights': Wong Kar Wai