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"cabral" poems
Que grande a geração, a de Camões, Saia de Belém, num pranto oral... Dizia adeus a grandes multidões! Olhava o horizonte pequeno Portugal Traçado o rumo do futuro, Passado o mar forte e indeciso, Pegava no leme, firme e duro, Sem dor, frio ou bramido. As ninfas, rodeavam o leme, O Sol, queimava a proa do navio, O capitão nada teme Naquele mar, escuro e bravio... Victor Marques e Atavio Nelson Chegamos a outros pontos, Do globo esférico, sem saber! Que hoje são contos, Que ainda temos de ler. Desde Ourique, Calado e Cala trava Com turbantes brancos reluzentes Os portugueses lutaram com palavra Com alegria mostravam seus dentes. Correram os desertos, tão estéreis Na defesa de um Santo Universal Pela cruz combateram infiéis Dentro e fora de Portugal. Oh.Isabel que suaves eram tuas flores! Que rosas encarnadas pueris Que as músicas sejam cantadas para seus amores Prendes-te por milagre o teu Diniz. OH Coimbra.que tiranas do fadário Oh Sé velha, cheia de segredos Que encantos lá havia do Hilário Ainda hoje escritos nos penedos... Santa Clara, no alto...que te vê clarissa Jovem, esbelta coimbrã! Foste, cedo freira e noviça. Salva-me deste fado, minha irmã! Olá Marquez, és do Pombal Traidor, usurpador, ladrão. NO ódio foste genial. E TUDO, tudo metia no gibão. Malandro, enganas-te o teu Rei Iludiste-o, meu falso...e mandas-te O Távora, inocente para o cadafalso Maldito sejas! Isso não foi Portugal...mas foi No norte, que uma mulher Forte, com seios apertados E espada no dentes bem cerrados Em serpente e com sua gente Em zip filas genial Firme.destinada Deu a vida mas Acabou com o Cabral Sim ali, no monte Naquele lugar Maria da Fonte Só com gente destemida, como eu ! Tal como o Lusitano no Gerez Esta pátria com um plebeu Concebeu o Tavares com um grande PORTUGUÊS Victor Marques
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Dec 10, 2009
Dec 10, 2009 at 10:27 PM UTC
Portugal....
Que grande a geração, a de Camões, Saia de Belém, num pranto oral... Dizia adeus a grandes multidões! Olhava o horizonte pequeno Portugal Traçado o rumo do futuro, Passado o mar forte e indeciso, Pegava no leme, firme e duro, Sem dor, frio ou bramido. As ninfas, rodeavam o leme, O Sol, queimava a proa do navio, O capitão nada teme Naquele mar, escuro e bravio... Victor Marques e Atavio Nelson Chegamos a outros pontos, Do globo esférico, sem saber! Que hoje são contos, Que ainda temos de ler. Desde Ourique, Calado e Cala trava Com turbantes brancos reluzentes Os portugueses lutaram com palavra Com alegria mostravam seus dentes. Correram os desertos, tão estéreis Na defesa de um Santo Universal Pela cruz combateram infiéis Dentro e fora de Portugal. Oh.Isabel que suaves eram tuas flores! Que rosas encarnadas pueris Que as músicas sejam cantadas para seus amores Prendes-te por milagre o teu Diniz. OH Coimbra.que tiranas do fadário Oh Sé velha, cheia de segredos Que encantos lá havia do Hilário Ainda hoje escritos nos penedos... Santa Clara, no alto...que te vê clarissa Jovem, esbelta coimbrã! Foste, cedo freira e noviça. Salva-me deste fado, minha irmã! Olá Marquez, és do Pombal Traidor, usurpador, ladrão. NO ódio foste genial. E TUDO, tudo metia no gibão. Malandro, enganas-te o teu Rei Iludiste-o, meu falso...e mandas-te O Távora, inocente para o cadafalso Maldito sejas! Isso não foi Portugal...mas foi No norte, que uma mulher Forte, com seios apertados E espada no dentes bem cerrados Em serpente e com sua gente Em zip filas genial Firme.destinada Deu a vida mas Acabou com o Cabral Sim ali, no monte Naquele lugar Maria da Fonte Só com gente destemida, como eu ! Tal como o Lusitano no Gerez Esta pátria com um plebeu Concebeu o Tavares com um grande PORTUGUÊS Victor Marques
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Canção Do Verbo Encarnado *** Minha geração foi assim, começou pelo quando e acabou pelo fim. O amor escorreu pelos cantos e quando cantamos a canção do amor armado, Thiago de Melo estava em Berlim mergulhado no verde dos olhos da alemãzinha da ACNUR , nossa orquestra saiu de cena e nossa guerra de guerrilhas acabou no maior calor... O suor que expelia seu odor era o suor frio dos tiranos nos porões mórbidos da ditadura executando nossos irmãos. O ar jazia cheio de sangue e nós estávamos congelados nas câmaras de gás dos IMLs. Vínhamos de todos os lados, desde os vales profundos do Ribeira, das chapadas mais íngremes do Araguaia ou dos guetos subumanos da urbe. Éramos nós o odor de fumaça que agredia as narinas alheias com a catinga de carne queimada. Éramos nós o encanto das canções de protesto cantadas na avenida com euforia para engendrar os projetos do futuro, como somos nós os ignorados da história, os estranhos os comícios, a cadeira vazia das reuniões oficiais, pois somos nós que chegamos e partimos sem ninguém saber quem somos e que vamos lá adiante, distantes da balburdia alienante e quando vós menos esperais somos nós que nos imolamos às vossas portas contra a apatia com que nos matais. Como todos vós podeis ver, a minha geração é assim: começa pelo quando e acaba pelo fim, mas não fica à toa na vida pro seu amor lhe chamar e ver a banda passar tocando coisas de amor... ***
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Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 12:30 AM UTC
Canção Do Verbo Encarnado * Antonio Cabral Filho - Rj/Brasil
CORDEL TROVADO * Antonio Cabral Filho - Rj * Meu bisavô João Cabral Padrasto do meu avô, Não sabe quanto é legal Me orgulhar de quem eu sou. * Meu avô “ José Cabral “ É José Pedro da Silva, Mas acabou como tal Pelas graças da mãe diva. * Meu pai honra meu avô, São CABRAIS de alto renome. Seus legados dão valor A quem tem Cabral no nome. * ANTONIO CABRAL DA SILVA, Que no Cavaco dedilha, Espero que a lira sirva De base na redondilha. * ANTONIO CABRAL é homem, Pois homem tem que ser homem. Quem não tem verve de ANTONIO, Tire o Cabral do seu nome. * Sou ANTONIO CABRAL FILHO, Que em vossa presença emigra; Do pinto que não quer milho João Cabral que lho diga. * Sei que não fez porque qui-lo, Mas o Antonio Cabral, Assim, solteiro, sem FILHO, Não sou eu nem o LEGAL. * Todo CABRAL é parente, Com raízes além mar, Tem cara de boa gente, Mas é bom não descuidar... * Antonio fui batizado Por glória da devoção, Mas CABRAL é meu legado Pela pura tradição. * Aquele que nasce ANTONIO Não se dobra pelo cobre, Pois vem de filão idôneo E tem espírito nobre. ***
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Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 9:43 PM UTC
Cordel Trovado * Antonio Cabral Filho - Rj/Brasil
Diaz Diaz was from Portugal, his first Bartholomew In 1487, rounded Good Hope, bid adieu For going on to India was for Da Gama's crew King Manuel sent 13 ships with Diaz and Cabral And April 22, 1500 claimed Brazil Half the fleet, when on return, in Jones' locker laid But the six remaining, spice-filled ships for the voyage paid Da Gama Da Gama, he was Portuguese For Indian Ocean trade He sailed four ships, if you please With Indian guidance for aid 1497 is when Vasco hit the sea And sailing 'round the Cape of Good Hope, quickly found that he Would require some assistance from a local native guide Together crossing Arab sea and in Calicut ending ride But though Da Gama and the Indians didn't hit it off He still returned to Lisbon toting spices and their cloth
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Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 12:51 AM UTC
Untitled
Viva our Anarchist, viva our Revolutionaries those magnificent dudes in their underwhelming cabral with shining mad grins showing unwashed brown teeth they devised another supernova anarchical dastard deed Here comrade we anchor his neighbour to his parked car outside remember the neighbour is same national as the Mata Hari girl we make the neighbour engage him about the car just casual enquires and info about the car and knowing a possible buyer for the car off course there's no buyer all this is just the anchoring bit Then We steal the car,yes we steal the ****** car No one's gonna talk, we have them all in our pockets we already told them he's loaded and a parasite a leech bleeding us the working classes everybody hates him, there are all on our side Bingo.......! He's gonna go spare, that will do his ****** head in he's gonna think neighbour has something to do with the theft he gonna hate that neighbour, he may even go confront him but not only that, he's also gonna hate the Mata hari girl because neighbour and Mata hari come from the same country so that's his love life ruined and no friend for our man Isolation quickens mental breakdown plus all the grief and stress Ahh....is that devious or what ........ we're not anarchist for nothing we create emotional hurt and pain for the man we give him grief and stress, we frustrate the ****** we foil his plan to go meet the Mata hari gal it's all suffering and depression all the way...... ( But we know he's not meeting the Mata Hari girl, we know there's nothing going on in that end ) ( Yes, we know that, silly, but the punters we are using as gang stalking perpetrators, don't know that) (Keep up with things, we manipulate them and all the other foot soldiers with lies, delusions, distortions and make them all think, they are controlling the man, do you want further training we are rogues and con-artists, that's what we do, silly!) Our intrepid leftist Anarchist have foiled a non-event again The used and manipulated crowds are all smiling in satisfaction A car has been stolen with community approval, another Tax they say. The man has not hated or blamed his neighbour he is not an emotionally immature or unintelligent fool the man has not anchored any of this to Mata Hari, who is also just a pawn as are all the other contributors to this saga This is how the Anarchist Leftist divide people and infect communities with Hate, division, unrest and ill wills all round This is the politics of Hate and Division This is how things roll in Modern britain today......!
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Mar 10, 2019
Mar 10, 2019 at 2:23 PM UTC
For The Many.......
Viva our Anarchist, viva our Revolutionaries those magnificent dudes in their underwhelming cabral with shining mad grins showing unwashed brown teeth they devised another supernova anarchical dastard deed Here comrade we anchor his neighbour to his parked car outside remember the neighbour is same national as the Mata Hari girl we make the neighbour engage him about the car just casual enquires and info about the car and knowing a possible buyer for the car off course there's no buyer all this is just the anchoring bit Then We steal the car,yes we steal the ****** car No one's gonna talk, we have them all in our pockets we already told them he's loaded and a parasite a leech bleeding us the working classes everybody hates him, there are all on our side Bingo.......! He's gonna go spare, that will do his ****** head in he's gonna think neighbour has something to do with the theft he gonna hate that neighbour, he may even go confront him but not only that, he's also gonna hate the Mata hari girl because neighbour and Mata hari come from the same country so that's his love life ruined and no friend for our man Isolation quickens mental breakdown plus all the grief and stress Ahh....is that devious or what ........ we're not anarchist for nothing we create emotional hurt and pain for the man we give him grief and stress, we frustrate the ****** we foil his plan to go meet the Mata hari gal it's all suffering and depression all the way...... ( But we know he's not meeting the Mata Hari girl, we know there's nothing going on in that end ) ( Yes, we know that, silly, but the punters we are using as gang stalking perpetrators, don't know that) (Keep up with things, we manipulate them and all the other foot soldiers with lies, delusions, distortions and make them all think, they are controlling the man, do you want further training we are rogues and con-artists, that's what we do, silly!) Our intrepid leftist Anarchist have foiled a non-event again The used and manipulated crowds are all smiling in satisfaction A car has been stolen with community approval, another Tax they say. The man has not hated or blamed his neighbour he is not an emotionally immature or unintelligent fool the man has not anchored any of this to Mata Hari, who is also just a pawn as are all the other contributors to this saga This is how the Anarchist Leftist divide people and infect communities with Hate, division, unrest and ill wills all round This is the politics of Hate and Division This is how things roll in Modern britain today......!
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Our Cabral of oiks, hicks, chavs, criminals and Unions of Imbeciles them professional bullies who gather Momentum with lies and are conceived in hate as love in hovels do not exist and pennies do not fall from heaven every mouth is a worry and the coal mines are closing down and education is one less wage decides that the Louis the fourteen, with a black face is the enemy for that sunshine king just shines two ****** much and his opulence and wealth was food from Scotch Jimmy's mouth so as one does when soots are even richer than the Chimney-sweep and live in castle full of earned treasures from the troves of Ivories the die is cast and we call in the gang for majority rules in Hades and Chalky and Wally and all chavs and 'Am I bovvereds' unite that Sun King Soot is human no more, this is revolution as in war the ******** have taken over and heaven help any traitors. and I yawned and laughed and laughed again and again first world problems of snowflakes hahaha    hahaha    hahaha....hahaha they say your Leader ain't fit to rule they say you hate the jews but why so Aneurin Bevan and Kerr Hardy are turning in their graves this wasn't about thugs, Hooligans and Criminals ruling This was about the rights of decent hard working people not thieves and charlatans using our party to get laid and harass and terrorize decent honest hardworking citizen
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Jul 10, 2019
Jul 10, 2019 at 9:06 PM UTC
Do your worst, I still wouldn't mix with you...ha!
In your depreciating Cabral of the putrid collectives where the poisonous oxygen sears your hackneyed minds and the history of your undesirable stations colors your visions painting thoughts in rediffusions of psychopathy tuning whimsical casting the agitations and hysterics of your fractious diseased sights Know this for nothing, he who dared show your malignancy In stance laissez-faire, you erupted unfair troubles, chaos, strife spurred by knaves, armoured by the green-eyed monster and deceit boiling with historical wounds, none of my doing or from my habitat In devious lying tongues you rout my knoll, my name, my heart et al Now, know this, hate a'fore unknown to me, but not any more despise will not do, detest and arbor not enough, loathe still not near a man of peace I trouble you not but in raging madness you pillaged You paid an army, you conned a town for the bravest it overwhelmed Now you post your wenches and sell a fable of teasing and confusing From this heart I do declare, this man can never turn in gay but no ***** regardless fair or fetching who in your game, I see that ceaseless passions burns and holds nowt but abominations for all nurse my soul for pitiless, cruel wicked and witless snakes is too far say what you may, pen what you will, I see you and all in contempt I know of time and I know of age and I have known pleasures but now I also know what hate can do and how evil blackens hearts save your time and use your cancerous energy elsewhere as you do to hold I want to share passions with your vacuous wenches untrue Me see no beauty no more, only mindless effigies and sadist puppets in slime
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Aug 3, 2019
Aug 3, 2019 at 3:44 AM UTC
No truer words written..........
In your depreciating Cabral of the putrid collectives where the poisonous oxygen sears your hackneyed minds and the history of your undesirable stations colors your visions painting thoughts in rediffusions of psychopathy tuning whimsical casting the agitations and hysterics of your fractious diseased sights Know this for nothing, he who dared show your malignancy In stance laissez-faire, you erupted unfair troubles, chaos, strife spurred by knaves, armoured by the green-eyed monster and deceit boiling with historical wounds, none of my doing or from my habitat In devious lying tongues you rout my knoll, my name, my heart et al Now, know this, hate a'fore unknown to me, but not any more despise will not do, detest and arbor not enough, loathe still not near a man of peace I trouble you not but in raging madness you pillaged You paid an army, you conned a town for the bravest it overwhelmed Now you post your wenches and sell a fable of teasing and confusing From this heart I do declare, this man can never turn in gay but no ***** regardless fair or fetching who in your game, I see that ceaseless passions burns and holds nowt but abominations for all nurse my soul for pitiless, cruel wicked and witless snakes is too far say what you may, pen what you will, I see you and all in contempt I know of time and I know of age and I have known pleasures but now I also know what hate can do and how evil blackens hearts save your time and use your cancerous energy elsewhere as you do to hold I want to share passions with your vacuous wenches untrue Me see no beauty no more, only mindless effigies and sadist puppets in slime
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