Contos de Fadas

Quando era pequeno sempre preferi as histórias sobre animais do que as histórias com todas aquelas princesas e príncipes que andam a cavalo e que vivem felizes para sempre.

Mas hoje em dia só há histórias sobre animais, os príncipes e princesas todos janotas desapareceram… Porque será?



A música
Dizem os críticos que o álbum Ys da Joanna Newsom (a menina-anjo que toca harpa como um anjo e que canta como uma criança) é uma obra-prima. Aqui fica um pequeno doce extraído desse bolo pequenino com apenas cinco fatias.

When you ate I saw your eyelashes
Saw them shake like wind on rushes
In the corn field when she called me
Moths surround me - thought they'd drown me

And I miss your precious heart...

Dried rose petal, red-brown circles
Framed your eyes and stained your knuckles

And all those lonely nights down by the river
Brought me bread and water (water, in)
But though I tried so hard, my little darling
I couldn't keep the night from coming in

And all those lonely nights down by the river
I was brought my bread and water by the kith and the kin
Now in the quiet hour when I am sleepin'
I cannot keep the night from comin' in

Why've you gone away, gone away again?
I'll sleep through the rest of my days
If you've gone away again

Sleep through the rest of my days...

Why've you gone away, away?
Seven suns, seven suns
Away, away, away, away

Can you hear me? will you listen?
Don't come near me, don't go missing
In the lissome light of evening
Help me, Cosmia, I'm grieving

And all those lonely nights down by the river
Brought me bread and water (water, in)
But though I tried so hard, my little darling
I couldn't keep the night from coming in

And all those lonely nights down by the river
I was brought my bread and water by the kith and the kin
Now in the quiet hour when I am sleepin'
I cannot keep the night from comin' in

Beneath the porch light, we've all been circling
Beat our dust hearts, singe our flour wings
But in the corner, something is happening!
Wild Cosmia, what have you seen?

Water were your limbs, and the fire was your hair
And then the moonlight caught your eye
And you rose through the air
Well, if you've seen true light, then this is my prayer:
Will you call me when you get there?

And I miss your precious heart
And miss, and miss, and miss
And miss, and miss, and miss
And miss, and miss your heart
But release your precious heart
To its feast, for precious hearts