terça-feira, 13 de dezembro de 2016

ARTE ERÓTICA, NAKED MEN & ART, ----HOMENS PELADOS,


POEMAS RECITADOS DE UMA FORMA BEM DIFERENTE

Se você aprecia literatura, é hora de ouvir e se deliciar com esses poemas de autores renomados. Ouça com atenção e aproveite para aperfeiçoar a audição em inglês.



HE DISCIPLE


When Narcissus died the pool of his pleasure changed from a cup ofsweet waters into a cup of salt tears, and the Oreads came weepingthrough the woodland that they might sing to the pool and give itcomfort.

And when they saw that the pool had changed from a cup of sweetwaters into a cup of salt tears, they loosened the green tresses oftheir hair and cried to the pool and said, 'We do not wonder thatyou should mourn in this manner for Narcissus, so beautiful washe.'

'But was Narcissus beautiful?' said the pool.'Who should know that better than you?' answered the Oreads. 'Usdid he ever pass by, but you he sought for, and would lie on yourbanks and look down at you, and in the mirror of your waters hewould mirror his own beauty.'

And the pool answered, 'But I loved Narcissus because, as he lay onmy banks and looked down at me, in the mirror of his eyes I sawever my own beauty mirrored.'





EMILY DICKSON




EMILLY DICKSON

Success is counted sweetest (112)
BY EMILY DICKINSON


Success is counted sweetest 

By those who ne'er succeed. 

To comprehend a nectar 

Requires sorest need. 



Not one of all the purple Host 

Who took the Flag today 

Can tell the definition 

So clear of victory 



As he defeated – dying – 

On whose forbidden ear 

The distant strains of triumph 

Burst agonized and clear!



BECAUSE I COULD NOT STOP FOR DEATH


Because I could not stop for Death – 

He kindly stopped for me – 

The Carriage held but just Ourselves – 

And Immortality. 



We slowly drove – He knew no haste 

And I had put away 

My labor and my leisure too, 

For His Civility – 



We passed the School, where Children strove 

At Recess – in the Ring – 

We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain – 

We passed the Setting Sun – 



Or rather – He passed Us – 

The Dews drew quivering and Chill – 

For only Gossamer, my Gown – 

My Tippet – only Tulle – 



We paused before a House that seemed 

A Swelling of the Ground – 

The Roof was scarcely visible – 

The Cornice – in the Ground – 



Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet 

Feels shorter than the Day 

I first surmised the Horses' Heads 

Were toward Eternity –







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