Como bando de pardais, a malta assaltou o vale, que era então, todo ele, frutescente pomar. Já as nespereiras, tempos antes, haviam sofirdo grave desbaste, e as cerejeiras também. Mas eram as uvas que, a todas as horas, mitigavam o apetite dos garotos. Dizia-se até que a vinha velha do Antunes, desmurada, nunca chegava a ser vindimada por ele.
Gineto preferia, porém, as quintas frondosas do Castro e de outros, que tinham uvas de casta, doces como o mel. Vestiu um casacão velho que lhe dava pelos joelhos, roubado ao pai, e escalou o muro, deixando os outros à espera na estrada.
– Sor Miguel, dê-me um cachinho de uvas... – gritou ele, empoleirado. Uma pausa e de novo a lamúria: – Sor Miguel...
Ninguém respondeu. O silêncio e as portas encerradas da moradia indicavam que o caseiro devia estar longe, ou fora da quinta. Saguí informou que também o canzarrão estava preso no jardim.
Saltaram à vinha. Gineto correu por entre as cepas, rojando o casaco, em busca de uvas moscatel. Primeiro, comeu; depois, pôs-se a encher as pregas da camisa, mantendo o casaco vazio, para não lhe tolher os movimentos.
Junto ao muro, os companheiros depenicavam e riam, uns sentados, de cócoras outros, mas todos à vontade, como se a quinta lhes pertencesse. Naquele dia, julgavam-se donos do mundo. [...]
Quando o avião aqui chegou Quando o mês de Maio começou Eu olhei para ti E então entendi Foi um sonho mau que já passou Foi um mau bocado que acabou
Tinha esta viola numa mão Uma flor vermelha na outra mão Tinha um grande amor Marcado pela dor E quando a fronteira me abraçou Foi esta bagagem que encontrou
Eu vim de longe De muito longe O que eu andei p’ra aqui chegar Eu vou p’ra longe P’ra muito longe Onde nos vamos encontrar Com o que temos p’ra nos dar
E então olhei à minha volta Vi tanta esperança andar à solta Que não hesitei E os hinos que cantei Foram frutos do meu coração Feitos de alegria e de paixão
Eu vim de longe De muito longe O que eu andei p’ra aqui chegar Eu vou p’ra longe P’ra muito longe Onde nos vamos encontrar Com o que temos p’ra nos dar
Quando a nossa festa se estragou E o mês de Novembro se vingou Eu olhei p’ra ti E então entendi Foi um sonho lindo que acabou Houve aqui alguém que se enganou
Tinha esta viola numa mão Coisas começadas noutra mão Tinha um grande amor Marcado pela dor E quando a espingarda se virou Foi p’ra esta força que apontou
Eu vim de longe De muito longe O que eu andei p’ra aqui chegar Eu vou p’ra longe P’ra muito longe Onde nos vamos encontrar Com o que temos p’ra nos dar
E então olhei à minha volta Vi tanta mentira andar à solta Que me perguntei Se os hinos que cantei Eram só promessas e ilusões Que nunca passaram de canções
Eu vim de longe De muito longe O que eu andei p’ra aqui chegar Eu vou p’ra longe P’ra muito longe Onde nos vamos encontrar Com o que temos p’ra nos dar
Quando finalmente eu quis saber Se ainda vale a pena tanto crer Eu olhei para ti Então eu entendi É um lindo sonho para viver Quando toda a gente assim quiser
Tenho esta viola numa mão Tenho a minha vida noutra mão Tenho um grande amor Marcado pela dor E sempre que Abril aqui passar Dou-lhe este farnel para o ajudar
Eu vim de longe De muito longe O que eu andei p’ra aqui chegar Eu vou p’ra longe P’ra muito longe Onde nos vamos encontrar Com o que temos p’ra nos dar
E agora eu olho à minha volta Vejo tanta raiva andar a solta Que já não hesito E os hinos que repito São a parte que eu posso prever Do que a minha gente vai fazer
Eu vim de longe De muito longe O que eu andei p’ra aqui chegar Eu vou p’ra longe P’ra muito longe Onde nos vamos encontrar Com o que temos p’ra nos dar
José Mário Branco (1982). Eu vim de longe, eu vou para longe. Em Ser Solidário [LP vinil]. s/l: Edisom, Lda.
Acordai acordai homens que dormis a embalar a dor dos silêncios vis vinde no clamor das almas viris arrancar a flor que dorme na raiz
Acordai acordai raios e tufões que dormis no ar e nas multidões vinde incendiar de astros e canções as pedras e o mar o mundo e os corações
Acordai acendei de almas e de sóis este mar sem cais nem luz de faróis e acordai depois das lutas finais os nossos heróis que dormem nos covais Acordai!
Come gather 'round people Wherever you roam And admit that the waters Around you have grown And accept it that soon You'll be drenched to the bone If your time to you Is worth savin' Then you better start swimmin' Or you'll sink like a stone For the times they are a-changin'.
Come writers and critics Who prophesize with your pen And keep your eyes wide The chance won't come again And don't speak too soon For the wheel's still in spin And there's no tellin' who That it's namin' For the loser now Will be later to win For the times they are a-changin'.
Come senators, congressmen Please heed the call Don't stand in the doorway Don't block up the hall For he that gets hurt Will be he who has stalled There's a battle outside And it is ragin' It'll soon shake your windows And rattle your walls For the times they are a-changin'.
Come mothers and fathers Throughout the land And don't criticize What you can't understand Your sons and your daughters Are beyond your command Your old road is Rapidly agin' Please get out of the new one If you can't lend your hand For the times they are a-changin'.
The line it is drawn The curse it is cast The slow one now Will later be fast As the present now Will later be past The order is Rapidly fadin' And the first one now Will later be last For the times they are a-changin'.
Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of '99... wear sunscreen.
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be IT.
The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience.
I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded. But trust me, in 20 years you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked.
You are NOT as fat as you imagine.
Don't worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.
Do one thing every day that scares you.
Sing.
Don't be reckless with other people's hearts, don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.
Floss.
Don't waste your time on jealousy; sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long, and in the end, it's only with yourself.
Remember compliments you receive, forget the insults; if you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.
Stretch.
Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don't.
Get plenty of calcium.
Be kind to your knees, you'll miss them when they're gone.
Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't, maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't, maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself, either. Your choices are half chance, so are everybody else's. Enjoy your body, use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it, or what other people think of it, it's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.
Dance. Even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.
Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.
Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.
Get to know your parents, you never know when they'll be gone for good.
Be nice to your siblings; they are your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.
Understand that friends come and go, but for the precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography in lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard; live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.
Travel.
Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old, and when you do you'll fantasize that when you were young prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.
Respect your elders.
Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one might run out.
Don't mess too much with your hair, or by the time you're 40, it will look 85.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.