Madredeus
Poetry and Prose
A Musica
Trabalhando a
música,
e todas as nossas fantasias se
mantém
criando sempre novas ilusões,
por novos caminhos
vivemos no mundo de todos os
desejos
e nada nos oferece a
contrariedade
nesta estrada permanente e
longa,
que nos conduziria á
realização
assim andaríam prolongando o
nosso sonho
viajando e construindo novos
barcos de sonho e fantasia
caravelas do espírito, como
já souberam chamar
entregues aos mares da alma
e aos ventos de teimosia
arrancando emoções,
esparzindo ideias,
navegando no êter e
atravessando
todos os destinos da terra com
as nossas palavras
todos os oceanos do universo
com o nosso amor
trespassando de amor o mundo.
"
Pedro Ayres Magalhães
Timor
Andam lá sem
descançar
Nas montanhas a lutar
Iluminam todo o mar
De Timor
Nas montanhas
sem dormir
Uma luz a resistir
Arde sem se apagar
Em Timor
Andorinha de
asa negra
Se o teu voo lá passar
Faz chegar um grande abraço
Dá saudades a Timor
Eles não
podem escrever
Porque vão a combater
Vão de manhã defender
A Timor
As crianças
a chorar
Não as posso consolar
Que eu nunca cheguei a ver
A Timor
Andorinha de
asa negra
Vem ouvir o meu cantar
Ai que dor rasga o meu peito
Sem notícias de Timor
Nunca mais
hei-de voltar
Já não posso lá voltar
À idade de lembrar
A Timor
Pedro Ayres de Magalhães
The
Waterfront - for Teresa
We
stand alone facing the ocean
that lives beyond Lisbon,
ready to fly to the other
side,
not worried about what
happened
and whatever could
happen.
Unnecessary words to say
Unnecessary acts to show
Free to be slave
Slave of too freedom
Paolo Egizi
Os Dias da
Madredeus
Is music
Two guitars, a bass, a keyboard
embraced by a voice
Four instruments for one
melody:
the one which keeps my blood
flowing
One voice for a feeling:
the one which answers to my
Questions
The melody is
the sea of two eyes
The voice is the sunlight on
this sea:
mobile, free, holy as a love
cry
Each one lays on the other and
in the other completes
Beauty
Calm
Softness
Grace
of a hidden fire,
mantained pure by the caresses
of a voice.
Fire that doesn't burn, but
warm
doesn't blaze forth, but
lighten
doesn't die because it's life
It's the sun
It's love
It's Portugal
Teresa,
a name,
a ray of light
entered in the diamond of my
soul
and destined never to leave it.
Light that killed me.
But like a snake from the
basket,
a new life reborn on the wings
of her voice.
Teresa does not exist,
is an ideal.
Neither her voice exists,
it's the air I breathe,
the earth I walk on,
the canvas and the color of my
thoughts,
the heat of Portugal's sun
Her voice and
the soul of her land
embodies in herself
to serve feeling
And music
Madredeus and the simplicity
Mankind spends the whole
life discussing about the mathematical context of being. The
scientific vision of life.
Maybe, if we give a chance for
ourselves to look poetcally, maybe we find out that life is much
simplier and beatiful than we think.
The music leads us far
deeper inside our souls. So we can see and feel what we have
never seen or felt before.
Songs like those by MadreDeus,
which are an incredible misture of poetry, calmness and silence,
bring back old memories, awake our imagination, guide us through
far places, and to the discovery of the being each of us is.
We are inside an ambient without the daily terror, for some time we feel as being in paradise. I don't mean that Tereza's voice is miraculous, or the words of Pedro Ayres are magical, but their art leads us to the undestanding of the incredible pureness and simplicity of life.
Aluisio Barbosa dos Santos sept/98
Poetry and Prose
Emotional