Saudações tenebrosas...

Você ultrapassou o portal da realidade... Seja bem vindo(a) á um mundo onde os contos criam vida, mesmo quando falam de morte...

Sidney Leal

quinta-feira, 25 de abril de 2013

A Arte (The Art)


A Arte...
"A viagem ao mundo da arte, sem limites...
Sem limites de tempo,
Sem limites geográficos,
Sem limites religiosos,
Além do alcance de guerras, conspirações e assassinatos,
Sem limites para a imaginação,
Sem limites para sede de 'tudo saber',
Ao infinito fascinante que é a nossa arte,
Que através de nós frágeis humanos, é representada ao longo dos séculos de nossa existência.
Sem limites para a fascinação a beleza que é a arte".
                                                                                     Sidney Leal

The Art ...
"The trip to the art world without limits ...
No time limits,
No geographical boundaries,
No religious boundaries,
Beyond the reach of wars, conspiracies and murders,
No limits to the imagination,
No limits for headquarters 'all knowing',
Infinitely fascinating is our art,
That through us fragile humans is represented throughout the centuries of our existence.
Boundless fascination for the beauty that is art. "
Sidney Leal

terça-feira, 16 de abril de 2013

"I CUT KNIFE AND CUT ME WITH BREAD..."


     "I cut out the knife and cut myself with the bread. Mil drops of blood scattered on the ground. Nothing makes sense... Falling eye to the sky where the disappointment comes from not thinking my dissatisfaction with my story and without gray segment. But I try to fool me satisfaction, and then deceived and deceiving all those who are talking of emptiness cleared through this life, finite and degraded. For those who do not know everything perishes, and just rots. That in the end nothing made ​​sense, and then follow that by lying?

     I cut out the knife and cut myself with the bread. Mil drops of blood scattered on the ground. Nothing makes sense ... It's been hours that follow this dilemma, not knowing that my blood oozing follows the rhythm of the crooked planks pies the ground floor where, and where I am now hoping that fell was fading even in poor ground that it does not make sense to me... My life.

     I cut out the knife and cut myself with the bread. Mil drops of blood scattered on the ground. Nothing makes sense ... I'm smiling now, because the unsteady beat of my heart follows the madness of my satisfaction I feel the tingling in my arms numb... Is that the one that was previously cut viscous one, now became two ... Moving to the other wrist after. And I honestly do not know what comes next, but I'm still happy... Because I know that at least for me doubts are in order, while not for others."
   Sidney Leal                                                                                                                          

segunda-feira, 15 de abril de 2013

domingo, 7 de abril de 2013

"A PAEAN – Edgar Allan Poe"



A PAEAN – Edgar Allan Poe
            “Morreste! E era só junho para tua alma! Ah! Não devias perecer tão linda! Tu não podias perecer ainda, morrendo assim tão calma”.


A PAEAN – Edgar Allan Poe
"You died! And it was only June for your soul! Ah! You should not perish so beautiful! You could not even perish, dying so calm”.

sexta-feira, 5 de abril de 2013

"Neglect Death"


"It was the last shovelful of earth and I was tired! I dug the shovel in the pile of earth looked to the heavens as if seeking relief. The moon reflected the beads of sweat on the handle of the tool that was instrumental release my agony, the shovel was smeared with blood and dirt ... The desolation of the place even more saddened my heart stained by the pain of malice, the crime he had just committed, afraid of the punishments inflicted by those who did not know my pain - He lied! - I felt the throb inexperienced hand calluses without the practice of effort the legwork asked. I sat down at the ground then it should be holy, because on it rests those who were once great men. Sitting where I was even away could see the shadow of the imposing mausoleum of my family. I was at the bottom cemetery on the east side of his distant entrance, an evil space reserved for indigent care and suicidal, beheld a simple pit that housed that body, was too good for him.
That it was just pulled out the heavy black leather jacket, bought at Arco Verde, whose wonderful finish would be better used for those still living; Besides that could offer some resistance to the insatiable hunger of worms that fertile soil, satisfied smiles. The night cooled abruptly and the work was finished. But what was my surprise when breathless and pale horror saw telltale illuminated by momentary glare of lightning inquisitors feet of earth discovered that one day I called brother! ... "
CONTINUOUS in the book: "13 Tales - Of Dreams and Madness" from writer Sidney Leal

quinta-feira, 4 de abril de 2013

“Descaso da Morte”


"Era a última pá de terra e eu estava cansado! Cravei a pá no amontoado de terra olhei aos céus como que buscando alivio. A lua refletia as gotas de suor sobre o cabo da ferramenta que serviu de instrumento de libertação de minha agonia, a pá estava suja de sangue e terra... A desolação do lugar entristecia ainda mais meu coração manchado pela dor da maldade, pelo crime que acabava de cometer, receoso dos castigos infligidos por aqueles que não conheciam minha dor – Ele mentiu! – Sentia latejar os calos da mão inexperiente sem a pratica do esforço que o trabalho braçal pedia. Sentei–me então naquele solo que deveria ser sagrado, pois nele descansam aqueles que um dia foram grandes homens. Sentado onde estava mesmo distante podia ver a sombra imponente do mausoléu de minha família. Eu estava no fundo cemitério no lado leste de sua distante entrada, num espaço mal cuidado reservado a indigentes e suicidas, contemplei a cova simples que abrigava aquele corpo, estava muito bom para ele.
Daquele que se foi, retirei apenas o pesado casaco de couro preto, comprado em Arco Verde, cujo maravilhoso acabamento seria melhor aproveitado por aqueles que ainda vivem; Além do que poderia oferecer alguma resistência a fome insaciável dos vermes daquele solo fértil, sorri satisfeito. A noite esfriava bruscamente, e o trabalho tinha terminado. Mas qual não foi minha surpresa quando ofegante, e pálido de terror vi iluminado pela claridade momentânea denunciadora dos relâmpagos inquisidores os pés descobertos de terra daquele que um dia chamei de irmão!.."
CONTÍNUA no livro: "13 Contos - Da Loucura e dos Sonhos" do escritor Sidney Leal