<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105</id><updated>2011-09-09T06:59:17.338-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Duarte...memórias.</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>76</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-5929735586422365351</id><published>2011-06-09T05:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-09T05:55:38.637-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UXcqr5OotzE/TfDCxJJoGZI/AAAAAAAAALM/gx0Km_GrCD0/s1600/imagesCABK76DO.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 224px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 225px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5616202884856682898" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UXcqr5OotzE/TfDCxJJoGZI/AAAAAAAAALM/gx0Km_GrCD0/s400/imagesCABK76DO.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-5929735586422365351?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/5929735586422365351/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=5929735586422365351' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/5929735586422365351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/5929735586422365351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2011/06/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UXcqr5OotzE/TfDCxJJoGZI/AAAAAAAAALM/gx0Km_GrCD0/s72-c/imagesCABK76DO.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-2697858163908851653</id><published>2011-06-03T04:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-03T04:24:09.640-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Fecho os meus olhos...perco-me no pensamento!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Sinto o teu cheiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Sinto o teu respirar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Apetece-me, voltar, a acariciar-te com meus beijos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Apetece-me, voltar, a falar contigo e escutar o tua voz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Olhar os teus olhos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Olhar o brilho que emanam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Abraçar-te demoradamente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Abraçar-te e assim ficar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Perder-me no teu corpo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Perder-me no teu mundo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-2697858163908851653?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/2697858163908851653/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=2697858163908851653' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/2697858163908851653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/2697858163908851653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2011/06/fecho-os-meus-olhos.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-3163374281646945088</id><published>2011-06-02T03:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-09T05:47:10.044-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;O que aconteceu naquele momento?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;A subita vontade que senti em te abraçar e beijar....sempre que penso em ti sinto a ternura dos teus lábios...sinto o teu perfume, vejo o brilho dos teus olhos que teimavam em brilhar no escuro do luar...incrivel como és lindo!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pode parecer estranho acontecerem coisas assim!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-3163374281646945088?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/3163374281646945088/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=3163374281646945088' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3163374281646945088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3163374281646945088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2011/06/o-que-aconteceu-naquele-momento-subita.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-7097543462910345556</id><published>2010-04-04T11:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-04T11:38:33.245-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Percorro o teu corpo e sinto um perfume invadir o meu sonho de te ter comigo, procuro em tua imagem o desejo de te ter e de te sentir perto de mim, a cada respirar teu meu coração palpita intensamente como se fosse o ultimo pulsar, como se fosse imaginário todo o sentimento que invade o meu ser...o percorrer de minhas mãos fazem de ti um ser unico e especial que sempre que estás comigo sente o universo como sendo algo teu e que juntos podemos somente disfrutar como num eclipse se torna o nosso lugar de magia e sentimento...nesse istante sentimo-nos os unicos amantes do universo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-7097543462910345556?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/7097543462910345556/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=7097543462910345556' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/7097543462910345556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/7097543462910345556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2010/04/percorro-o-teu-corpo-e-sinto-um-perfume.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-4570209815108674266</id><published>2010-02-10T02:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T02:58:06.414-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Pensa. E pensa bem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sente. E respeita o que sentes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Intui, e segue a tua luz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E serás harmonioso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E serás equilibrado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E serás feliz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Alexandra Solnado&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-4570209815108674266?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/4570209815108674266/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=4570209815108674266' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/4570209815108674266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/4570209815108674266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2010/02/pensa.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-7950754707146935099</id><published>2009-11-19T05:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T05:57:10.601-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Por vezes a vida parece-nos tão ingrata, não percebemos a razão das coisas e do que acontece e está a acontecer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Tudo tem uma razão de ser, de existir, de permanecer...depende de nós alterarmos o rumo das coisas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-7950754707146935099?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/7950754707146935099/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=7950754707146935099' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/7950754707146935099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/7950754707146935099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/11/por-vezes-vida-parece-nos-tao-ingrata.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-889036834298926971</id><published>2009-11-17T09:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T09:53:58.381-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Aprecio o sorriso&lt;br /&gt;É sempre aquilo que me prende e me deixa fascinado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aprecio o olhar discreto&lt;br /&gt;Sentir-me observado sem me sentir olhado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aprecio-te&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-889036834298926971?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/889036834298926971/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=889036834298926971' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/889036834298926971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/889036834298926971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/11/aprecio-o-sorriso-e-sempre-aquilo-que.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-728807449330012527</id><published>2009-11-16T08:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T08:48:16.289-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;O espelho do nosso reflexo...um cliché, acompanhado e no entanto só!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-728807449330012527?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/728807449330012527/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=728807449330012527' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/728807449330012527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/728807449330012527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/11/o-espelho-do-nosso-reflexo.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-2889175889163818830</id><published>2009-11-12T08:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T08:40:02.606-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Por vezes existe o medo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;O medo de tudo passar rapidamente sem tempo para saborear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;O medo de não correr atráz dos desejos &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;O medo de não sentir, sentindo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;O medo de ficar por aqui&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Não devo gostar de sentir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-2889175889163818830?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/2889175889163818830/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=2889175889163818830' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/2889175889163818830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/2889175889163818830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/11/por-vezes-existe-o-medo-o-medo-de-tudo.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-1120235454859807419</id><published>2009-11-11T03:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T08:37:00.754-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Me gustas cuando callas porque estás como ausente,&lt;br /&gt;y me oyes desde lejos, y mi voz no te toca.&lt;br /&gt;Parece que los ,ojos se te hubieran volado&lt;br /&gt;y parece que un beso te cerrara la boca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como todas las cosas están llenas de mi alma,&lt;br /&gt;emerges de las cosas llena del alma mía.&lt;br /&gt;Mariposa de sueño, te pareces a mi alma,&lt;br /&gt;y te pareces a la palabra melancolía.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me gustas cuando callas y estás como distante.&lt;br /&gt;Y estás como quejándote, mariposa en arrullo.&lt;br /&gt;Y me oyes desde lejos, y mi voz no te alcanza.&lt;br /&gt;Déjame que me calle con el silencio tuyo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Déjame que te hable también con tu silencio&lt;br /&gt;claro como una lámpara, simple como un anillo.&lt;br /&gt;Eres como la noche, callada y constelada.&lt;br /&gt;Tu silencio es de estrella, tan lejano y sencillo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me gustas cuando callas porque estás como ausente.&lt;br /&gt;Distante y dolorosa como si hubieras muerto.&lt;br /&gt;Una palabra entonces, una sonrisa bastan.&lt;br /&gt;Y estoy alegre, alegre de que no sea cierto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pablo de Neruda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-1120235454859807419?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/1120235454859807419/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=1120235454859807419' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/1120235454859807419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/1120235454859807419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/11/me-gustas-cuando-callas-porque-estas.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-6330290314691047839</id><published>2009-11-06T07:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T07:28:27.831-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Existe, neste caminho, uma serenidade unica de um momento sem particular apreço.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-6330290314691047839?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/6330290314691047839/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=6330290314691047839' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/6330290314691047839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/6330290314691047839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/11/existe-neste-caminho-uma-serenidade.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-3448045146261490292</id><published>2009-11-04T04:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T04:19:38.570-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SvFxL0HlRLI/AAAAAAAAAKg/0lQL_fbKlFg/s1600-h/20070502101716m_beyonce%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400221875976881330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 386px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SvFxL0HlRLI/AAAAAAAAAKg/0lQL_fbKlFg/s400/20070502101716m_beyonce%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Beyoncé&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-3448045146261490292?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/3448045146261490292/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=3448045146261490292' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3448045146261490292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3448045146261490292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/11/beyonce.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SvFxL0HlRLI/AAAAAAAAAKg/0lQL_fbKlFg/s72-c/20070502101716m_beyonce%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-273659523098996748</id><published>2009-11-03T08:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T08:35:03.565-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SvBbrGzWQ4I/AAAAAAAAAKY/aIWMGlp9R50/s1600-h/Kate%2BBush%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399916749335708546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 292px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SvBbrGzWQ4I/AAAAAAAAAKY/aIWMGlp9R50/s400/Kate%2BBush%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate Bush&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-273659523098996748?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/273659523098996748/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=273659523098996748' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/273659523098996748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/273659523098996748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/11/kate-bush.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SvBbrGzWQ4I/AAAAAAAAAKY/aIWMGlp9R50/s72-c/Kate%2BBush%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-4136896335166487882</id><published>2009-11-02T05:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T05:36:02.814-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Parece tudo sem rumo tal como um rio que não acompanha o seu ciclo natural de vida...confuso sem noção...perdido sem fim num ponto sem luz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-4136896335166487882?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/4136896335166487882/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=4136896335166487882' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/4136896335166487882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/4136896335166487882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/11/parece-tudo-sem-rumo-tal-como-um-rio.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-3432872890916927949</id><published>2009-10-13T07:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T07:00:44.912-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;“Cada um de nós é, no fundo, uma ideia ilimitada da liberdade. Devemos rejeitar tudo aquilo que nos imponha limites. Aliás, dispomos de todas as possibilidades da mais absoluta liberdade de escolha. Como num livro, onde cada letra permanece para sempre na página, a nossa consciência tem o direito de decidir o que quer ler e o que prefere deixar de parte…” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;(Richard Bach)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-3432872890916927949?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/3432872890916927949/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=3432872890916927949' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3432872890916927949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3432872890916927949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/10/cada-um-de-nos-e-no-fundo-uma-ideia.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-4844143882424853907</id><published>2009-10-07T08:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T08:40:53.286-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cúmplices</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A noite vem às vezes tão perdida&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e quase nada parece bater certo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;há qualquer coisa em nós inquieta e ferida&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e tudo que era fundo fica perto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;nem sempre o chão da alma é seguro&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;nem sempre o tempo cura qualquer dor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e o sabor a fim da mar que vem do escuro&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;é tantas vezes o que resta do calor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;se fosse a tua pele&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e tu fosses o meu caminho&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;se nenhum de nós se sentisse nunca sozinho&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;trocamos as palavras mais escondidas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e só a noite arranca sem doer&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;seremos cúmplices o resto da vida&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ou talvez só até amanhecer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;fica tão fácil entregar a alma&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a quem nos traga um sopro do deserto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;olhar onde a distância nunca acalma&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;esperando o que vier de peito aberto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;se fosse a tua pele&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e tu fosses o meu caminhos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e nenhum de nós se sentisse nunca sozinho&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;se fosse a tua pele&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e tu fosses o meu caminho &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;se nenhum de nós se sentisse nunca sozinho&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Um tema de Mafalda Veiga.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Um poema simplesmente lindo que me faz sonhar e sentir uma imensidão de sentimentos e, quando isso acontece, estamos perante um acto de encantamento...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Para mim é, sem duvida, muito especial.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-4844143882424853907?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/4844143882424853907/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=4844143882424853907' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/4844143882424853907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/4844143882424853907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/10/cumplices.html' title='Cúmplices'/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-2049415867003016267</id><published>2009-10-06T04:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T04:23:59.229-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SssotWZCZwI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/bA_CHqXhATw/s1600-h/AMALIA-RODRIGUES-Foto-clonada-de-www-instituto-camoes-pt-music-html%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389446138648749826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SssotWZCZwI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/bA_CHqXhATw/s400/AMALIA-RODRIGUES-Foto-clonada-de-www-instituto-camoes-pt-music-html%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Amália Rodrigues&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;1920/1999&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-2049415867003016267?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/2049415867003016267/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=2049415867003016267' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/2049415867003016267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/2049415867003016267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/10/amalia-rodrigues-19201999.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SssotWZCZwI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/bA_CHqXhATw/s72-c/AMALIA-RODRIGUES-Foto-clonada-de-www-instituto-camoes-pt-music-html%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-3982801556053949518</id><published>2009-10-05T06:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T06:03:51.022-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Recordar, Amália Rodrigues.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-3982801556053949518?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/3982801556053949518/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=3982801556053949518' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3982801556053949518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3982801556053949518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/10/recordar-amalia-rodrigues.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-4838346252473317629</id><published>2009-10-02T07:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T07:47:29.606-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SsYSHki7kwI/AAAAAAAAAKI/uQeH15uKKFI/s1600-h/Anderson_Dornelles_fotos%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388013925473948418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 349px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SsYSHki7kwI/AAAAAAAAAKI/uQeH15uKKFI/s400/Anderson_Dornelles_fotos%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Anderson Dornelles...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-4838346252473317629?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/4838346252473317629/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=4838346252473317629' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/4838346252473317629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/4838346252473317629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/10/anderson-dornelles.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SsYSHki7kwI/AAAAAAAAAKI/uQeH15uKKFI/s72-c/Anderson_Dornelles_fotos%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-5694306743416732482</id><published>2009-10-01T08:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T08:52:48.540-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;і Qué triste viver sin amor!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;і Qué triste viver sin amor!&lt;br /&gt;і Qué sequedad interior!&lt;br /&gt;Y !qué cansancio y hastío!&lt;br /&gt;No se puede soportar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El alma me va a estallar,&lt;br /&gt;que el desconsuelo es dolor&lt;br /&gt;y el dolor es soledad.&lt;br /&gt;El alma me va a estallar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;EMILIA CURRÁS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-5694306743416732482?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/5694306743416732482/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=5694306743416732482' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/5694306743416732482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/5694306743416732482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/10/que-triste-viver-sin-amor-que-triste.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-6596559931693898505</id><published>2009-09-30T05:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T05:54:15.005-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SsNUuzLsXMI/AAAAAAAAAKA/M8-EX_zJWZM/s1600-h/mini-P1010312%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387242742255213762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 322px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SsNUuzLsXMI/AAAAAAAAAKA/M8-EX_zJWZM/s400/mini-P1010312%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SsNUEGugXiI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/QombWVTP_UY/s1600-h/images%5B5%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Gaudi, Barcelona&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-6596559931693898505?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/6596559931693898505/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=6596559931693898505' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/6596559931693898505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/6596559931693898505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/09/gaudi-barcelona.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SsNUuzLsXMI/AAAAAAAAAKA/M8-EX_zJWZM/s72-c/mini-P1010312%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-2142081873761644386</id><published>2009-09-29T07:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T07:49:47.632-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ausência&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Num deserto sem água &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Numa noite sem lua &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Num país sem nome &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ou numa terra nua &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Por maior que seja o desespero &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nenhuma ausência é mais funda do que a tua.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Sophia de Mello Breyner Andresen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-2142081873761644386?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/2142081873761644386/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=2142081873761644386' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/2142081873761644386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/2142081873761644386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/09/ausencia-num-deserto-sem-agua-numa.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-198487908175589686</id><published>2009-09-28T03:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T03:57:28.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SsCWQfbaacI/AAAAAAAAAJw/HzLhzL390Ns/s1600-h/0058toriamos%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386470364393662914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 317px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SsCWQfbaacI/AAAAAAAAAJw/HzLhzL390Ns/s400/0058toriamos%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tori Amos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Excelente!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-198487908175589686?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/198487908175589686/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=198487908175589686' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/198487908175589686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/198487908175589686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/09/tori-amos.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SsCWQfbaacI/AAAAAAAAAJw/HzLhzL390Ns/s72-c/0058toriamos%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-2174081835445337032</id><published>2009-09-25T08:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T08:32:04.923-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SrziUGzx0cI/AAAAAAAAAJo/8ZK57mGLOas/s1600-h/images%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385428089481318850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 105px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SrziUGzx0cI/AAAAAAAAAJo/8ZK57mGLOas/s400/images%5B3%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Kate Bush...magnifica!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-2174081835445337032?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/2174081835445337032/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=2174081835445337032' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/2174081835445337032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/2174081835445337032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/09/kate-bush.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SrziUGzx0cI/AAAAAAAAAJo/8ZK57mGLOas/s72-c/images%5B3%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-2316010023751432501</id><published>2009-09-24T07:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T07:25:44.138-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Chegou o Outono...e com ele o romantismo da sua epóca.&lt;br /&gt;Aproveitem para amar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-2316010023751432501?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/2316010023751432501/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=2316010023751432501' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/2316010023751432501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/2316010023751432501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/09/chegou-o-outono.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-6486910478433037577</id><published>2009-09-21T09:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T07:27:30.738-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu não sei, que mais posso ser&lt;br /&gt;um dia rei, outro dia sem comer&lt;br /&gt;por vezes forte, coragem de leão&lt;br /&gt;as vezes fraco assim é o coração&lt;br /&gt;eu não sei,&lt;br /&gt;que mais te posso dar&lt;br /&gt;um dia jóias noutro dia o luar&lt;br /&gt;gritos de dor, gritos de prazer&lt;br /&gt;que um homem também chora&lt;br /&gt;quando assim tem de ser&lt;br /&gt;Foram tantas as noites sem dormirtantos quartos de hotel, amar e partir&lt;br /&gt;promessas perdidas escritas no are logo ali eu sei...&lt;br /&gt;(Que) Tudo o que eu te dou&lt;br /&gt;tu me das a mim&lt;br /&gt;tudo o que eu sonhei&lt;br /&gt;tu serás assim&lt;br /&gt;tudo o que eu te dou&lt;br /&gt;tu me das a mim&lt;br /&gt;e tudo o que eu te dou&lt;br /&gt;Sentado na poltrona, beijas-me a pele morenafazes aqueles truques que aprendeste no cinemamais peço-te eu, já me sinto a viajarpara, recomeça, faz-me acreditar"Não", dizes tu, e o teu olhar mentiuenrolados pelo chão no abraço que se viu&lt;br /&gt;é madrugada ou é alucinaçãoestrelas de mil cores, ecstasy ou paixão&lt;br /&gt;hum, esse odor, traz tanta saudade&lt;br /&gt;mata-me de amor&lt;br /&gt;ou da-me liberdade&lt;br /&gt;deixa-me voar, cantar, adormecer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Pedro Abrunhosa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Lindo este poema...gosto muito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Bjos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-6486910478433037577?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/6486910478433037577/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=6486910478433037577' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/6486910478433037577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/6486910478433037577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/09/eu-nao-sei-que-mais-posso-ser-um-dia.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-6847280326382058172</id><published>2009-09-15T07:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T08:42:19.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/Sq-mgSMHXPI/AAAAAAAAAJg/c-o8fGhRIms/s1600-h/Ponte_25_de_Abril_vista_de_Almada%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381703153299709170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 261px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/Sq-mgSMHXPI/AAAAAAAAAJg/c-o8fGhRIms/s400/Ponte_25_de_Abril_vista_de_Almada%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;A ponte 25 de Abril.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Lindíssima&lt;/span&gt; a ponte e a vista da cidade de Lisboa...Adoro apreciar a cidade quando atravesso a ponte...ao entardecer é ainda mais encantador...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Já sabem que eu sou um eterno apaixonado por esta cidade...pelo encanto da sua luz ao entardecer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-6847280326382058172?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/6847280326382058172/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=6847280326382058172' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/6847280326382058172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/6847280326382058172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/09/ponte-25-de-abril.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/Sq-mgSMHXPI/AAAAAAAAAJg/c-o8fGhRIms/s72-c/Ponte_25_de_Abril_vista_de_Almada%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-3554312835861420823</id><published>2009-09-08T05:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T05:59:24.649-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sinto saudades...gostava tanto de te ver...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-3554312835861420823?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/3554312835861420823/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=3554312835861420823' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3554312835861420823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3554312835861420823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/09/sinto-saudades.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-3944892296779911793</id><published>2009-08-31T06:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T06:49:54.692-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Não existe nada mais belo do que o amor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-3944892296779911793?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/3944892296779911793/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=3944892296779911793' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3944892296779911793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3944892296779911793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/08/nao-existe-nada-mais-belo-do-que-o-amor.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-5412584908640705671</id><published>2009-08-18T06:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T06:15:50.501-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Gostava de percorrer teu corpo com o aroma dos meus beijos&lt;br /&gt;Sentir o teu perfume em minha língua&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto te transmito o mais belo dos sentimentos&lt;br /&gt;E do mais belo que eu pudesse transmitir&lt;br /&gt;Sentir a tua pulsação bater forte&lt;br /&gt;Sentir o teu respirar ficar mais ofegante&lt;br /&gt;Sentir o teu vibrar&lt;br /&gt;Porque tu és um campo único de energia que me faz ser assim, único para ti&lt;br /&gt;Porque o amor é dos sentimentos mais belo que pode existir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amor é Vida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-5412584908640705671?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/5412584908640705671/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=5412584908640705671' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/5412584908640705671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/5412584908640705671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/08/gostava-de-percorrer-teu-corpo-com-o.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-7142761308092657372</id><published>2009-08-14T08:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T06:11:51.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Gosto tanto de sentir o calor em minha cara, sentir o calor tomar conta de mim, sentir-me acariciado pelo sol.&lt;br /&gt;Adoro os dias quentes de Verão, são como alimento para mim...energia unica que me faz sentir tão bem neste mundo mudano.&lt;br /&gt;Observo as pessoas que caminham num vai e vem como se não existisse tempo, como se o tempo fosse acabar já, como se não houvesse mais tenpo, como se o relógio fosse parar...&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto isso, eu caminho na rua e sinto o calor em minha pele percebo o quanto feliz eu sou por o poder sentir...&lt;br /&gt;É tão bom sentir este calor de Verão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-7142761308092657372?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/7142761308092657372/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=7142761308092657372' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/7142761308092657372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/7142761308092657372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/08/gosto-tanto-de-sentir-o-calor-em-minha.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-6992663364888686993</id><published>2009-08-13T04:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T04:15:53.995-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;"&gt;O Dr. Mikao Usui, que redescobriu o Reiki no princípio do século XX, e estabeleceu os seus princípios.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;"&gt;Só por hoje,&lt;br /&gt;não me irrito,&lt;br /&gt;não me preocupo,&lt;br /&gt;sou grato,&lt;br /&gt;trabalho arduamente,&lt;br /&gt;e sou gentil para todos os seres vivos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-6992663364888686993?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/6992663364888686993/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=6992663364888686993' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/6992663364888686993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/6992663364888686993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/08/o-dr.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-3218215723397930647</id><published>2009-08-11T01:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T01:25:18.809-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Quando estiveste cá em cima, antes de reencarnares, foi-te confiada uma missão. Todas as almas vão à terra com uma missão. Ter um propósito faz parte da experiência da matéria. A sobrevivência por si só não é um propósito espiritual. Trabalhar com o intuito único de ganhar e amealhar riqueza não é um propósito espiritual.&lt;br /&gt;Um propósito, por exemplo, é a experiência. Passar por determinadas experiências para conhecer o âmbito e a extensão da participação do espírito na matéria. Isso é um propósito.&lt;br /&gt;Acontece que as pessoas nascem, e a sobrevivência passa a ser o propósito. Em nome da sobrevivência, anulam-se os mais altos valores espirituais. Em nome da sobrevivência, descuida-se o propósito. Sem propósito, nada acontece. Sem propósito ou com um propósito assente apenas em retorno material, até pode acontecer alguma coisa, mas não se alcançam os grandes voos cerimoniais.&lt;br /&gt;Olha para dentro de ti próprio e questiona o propósito desta iniciativa.Para que serve? Em que é que isto ajuda a humanidade ou as pessoas que te são mais chegadas? Porque é que estás a fazer isto? É por ti, para te sentires mais completo, ou será que é para teres algum retorno, material ou afectivo?&lt;br /&gt;Olha para dentro do teu coração, e sente. E ficarás a saber a resposta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LUZ – Pergunte, o Céu Responde, de Alexandra Solnado&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-3218215723397930647?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/3218215723397930647/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=3218215723397930647' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3218215723397930647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3218215723397930647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/08/quando-estiveste-ca-em-cima-antes-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-2750767002504129951</id><published>2009-08-10T06:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T06:54:44.838-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Façam o favor de serem felizes...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Ai que prazer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Não cumprir um dever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Ter um livro para ler&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;E não o fazer!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Ler é maçada,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Estudar é nada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;O sol doira &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Sem literatura.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;O rio corre, bem ou mal,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Sem edição original.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;E a brisa, essa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;De tão naturalmente matinal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Como tem tempo não tem pressa... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Livros são papéis pintados com tinta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Estudar é uma coisa em que está indistinta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;A distinção entre nada e coisa nenhuma. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Quanto é melhor, quanto há bruma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Esperar por D. Sebastião&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Quer venha ou não! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Grande é a poesia, a bondade e as danças...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Mas o melhor do mundo são as crianças&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Flores, música, o luar, e o sol, que peca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Só quando, em vez de criar, seca. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;O mais que isto É Jesus Cristo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Que não sabia nada de finanças&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Nem consta que tivesse biblioteca...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Em memória a Raul Solnado que estará sempre entre nós (08.08.09)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-2750767002504129951?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/2750767002504129951/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=2750767002504129951' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/2750767002504129951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/2750767002504129951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/08/facam-o-favor-de-serem-felizes.html' title='Façam o favor de serem felizes...'/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-8430244727864846127</id><published>2009-06-27T10:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T10:11:19.668-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ter saudade é vaga disforme de um corpo.&lt;br /&gt;Ter saudade é pássaro que aparece e se apaga&lt;br /&gt;erguido de confusão na angústia&lt;br /&gt;teste dado à natureza bruxuleante dentro de mim.&lt;br /&gt;Ter saudade é fingir qualquer coisa que inquieta,&lt;br /&gt;levantada, desenterrada do crivo da memória.&lt;br /&gt;Por vezes quando o tempo por ela passa não passa&lt;br /&gt;o tempo da saudade, estátua rígida dum destino anoitecido,&lt;br /&gt;passa um nada meio acontecido.&lt;br /&gt;Saudade, é filha da alma do mundo que de tanto ser outro sou eu já.&lt;br /&gt;Saudade, porque viajas cansada em horas dentro de mim?&lt;br /&gt;Saudade que vieste até à última força desta linha, brumosa da eterna caminhada.&lt;br /&gt;Sempre que vieres sem avisares leva-me contigo para que a paz volte à memória de meu corpo como o rio que passa no tempo final da minha natureza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carlos Melo Santos, in "Lavra de Amor"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-8430244727864846127?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/8430244727864846127/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=8430244727864846127' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/8430244727864846127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/8430244727864846127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/06/ter-saudade-e-vaga-disforme-de-um-corpo.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-7763995485955652621</id><published>2009-06-26T08:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T10:12:05.065-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Perdemos o Rei da POP</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SkTnCoRLFCI/AAAAAAAAAGk/bz6IiN4imUs/s1600-h/michael-jackson-is-madman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351656289578193954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 380px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SkTnCoRLFCI/AAAAAAAAAGk/bz6IiN4imUs/s400/michael-jackson-is-madman.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um triste ADEUS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-7763995485955652621?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/7763995485955652621/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=7763995485955652621' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/7763995485955652621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/7763995485955652621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/06/perdemos-o-rei-do-pop.html' title='Perdemos o Rei da POP'/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SkTnCoRLFCI/AAAAAAAAAGk/bz6IiN4imUs/s72-c/michael-jackson-is-madman.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-3433358884865984027</id><published>2009-06-18T04:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T04:26:44.700-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>VOZES DE UM TÚMULO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Morri! E a Terra -- a mãe comum -- o brilho&lt;br /&gt;Destes meus olhos apagou!... Assim&lt;br /&gt;Tântalo, aos reais convivas, num festim,&lt;br /&gt;Serviu as carnes do seu próprio filho!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por que para este cemitério vim?!&lt;br /&gt;Por que?! Antes da vida o angusto trilho&lt;br /&gt;Palmilhasse, do que este que palmilho&lt;br /&gt;E que me assombra, porque não tem fim!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No ardor do sonho que o fronema exalta&lt;br /&gt;Construí de orgulho ênea pirâmide alta...&lt;br /&gt;Hoje, porém, que se desmoronou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A pirâmide real do meu orgulho,&lt;br /&gt;Hoje que apenas sou matéria e entulho&lt;br /&gt;Tenho consciência de que nada sou!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poema de Augusto dos Anjos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-3433358884865984027?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/3433358884865984027/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=3433358884865984027' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3433358884865984027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3433358884865984027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/06/vozes-de-um-tumulo-morri-e-terra-mae.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-5785404445877474405</id><published>2009-06-17T08:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T08:34:51.761-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Estive ausente, tenho estado ausente&lt;br /&gt;Alguém percebeu a minha ausência?&lt;br /&gt;Creio que não, claro que não&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não percebo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Juro que não percebo porque gosto eu verdadeiramente das pessoas&lt;br /&gt;e elas retribuem tão pouco esse meu gostar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As pessoas vêem e vão como se fosse um ciclo normal climatérico, chuva, sol, vento e calor, vem e vai...&lt;br /&gt;Não percebo mas gostava que fosse diferente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tenho pena que as pessoas estejam todas tão ocupadas que não têm tempo&lt;br /&gt;Se calhar eu também não tenho&lt;br /&gt;Não sei mas sinto pena de não sentir as coisas como as senti ou como gostava de as sentir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-5785404445877474405?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/5785404445877474405/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=5785404445877474405' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/5785404445877474405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/5785404445877474405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/06/estive-ausente-tenho-estado-ausente.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-5336098682123383848</id><published>2009-06-05T03:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T03:31:03.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SijzoM4N96I/AAAAAAAAAGE/pD5A_M7f_L4/s1600-h/Rodrigo_Santoro.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343788829852432290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 285px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SijzoM4N96I/AAAAAAAAAGE/pD5A_M7f_L4/s400/Rodrigo_Santoro.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Belissimo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-5336098682123383848?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/5336098682123383848/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=5336098682123383848' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/5336098682123383848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/5336098682123383848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/06/belissimo.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SijzoM4N96I/AAAAAAAAAGE/pD5A_M7f_L4/s72-c/Rodrigo_Santoro.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-4051830639284982823</id><published>2009-06-04T04:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T04:28:37.657-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Num momento de magia pensei em ti...&lt;br /&gt;Fechei os olhos e senti o aroma do teu corpo...as linhas e os sinais a tua pele...&lt;br /&gt;Imaginei, nós dois, num momento de amor onde somente eu e tu estivéssemos em cumplicidade única e magica tal como um por de sol numa tarde calma de verão...&lt;br /&gt;Num momento imaginei que o momento seria só nosso.&lt;br /&gt;Ao nosso sabor&lt;br /&gt;Ao nosso tear&lt;br /&gt;Ao nosso espaço&lt;br /&gt;Amo-te&lt;br /&gt;Amo-te hoje e sempre te amarei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-4051830639284982823?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/4051830639284982823/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=4051830639284982823' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/4051830639284982823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/4051830639284982823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/06/num-momento-de-magia-pensei-em-ti.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-1387401824829703402</id><published>2009-05-29T09:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T09:25:02.137-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SiAKOdrY-lI/AAAAAAAAAFc/z6UYBkwHpYc/s1600-h/S%25E3o%2520Jos%25E9%2520do%2520Barreiro%2520Cachoeira%2520Maximo%2520800x533.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341280401662474834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SiAKOdrY-lI/AAAAAAAAAFc/z6UYBkwHpYc/s400/S%25E3o%2520Jos%25E9%2520do%2520Barreiro%2520Cachoeira%2520Maximo%2520800x533.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Saudade, sentimento estranho de se sentir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Pelo menos para mim é estranho sentir saudade porque se existe saudade de alguem poderiamos simplesmente procurar esse alguem e dizer-lhe o que sentimos... mas e quando esse alguem não está para nós? Fica mais dificil não é? Mas mesmo quando essa pessoa está proxima de nós? Tão próxima quanto a distancia de uma simples chamada telefónica? Parece que seria facil apagar esse sentimento de nós...mas não é.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Simplesmente porque esse alguem apesar de sabermos que ele existe, apesar de sabermos onde mora, apesar de sabermos o seu numero de telemovel, esse alguem não está porque a vida se encarregou de não o deixar estar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-1387401824829703402?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/1387401824829703402/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=1387401824829703402' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/1387401824829703402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/1387401824829703402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SiAKOdrY-lI/AAAAAAAAAFc/z6UYBkwHpYc/s72-c/S%25E3o%2520Jos%25E9%2520do%2520Barreiro%2520Cachoeira%2520Maximo%2520800x533.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-6869158268097889993</id><published>2009-05-22T02:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T09:16:59.968-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Livro das Perguntas&lt;br /&gt;Pablo de Neruda&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-6869158268097889993?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/6869158268097889993/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=6869158268097889993' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/6869158268097889993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/6869158268097889993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/05/livro-das-perguntas.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-4199998983770730967</id><published>2009-05-19T06:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T02:36:36.481-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/ShK03KnMXjI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qtPjamyBjA0/s1600-h/Fotos_sensuais_Daniel_Radcliffe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337527368222006834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 283px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/ShK03KnMXjI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qtPjamyBjA0/s400/Fotos_sensuais_Daniel_Radcliffe.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Gostei muito desta foto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-4199998983770730967?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/4199998983770730967/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=4199998983770730967' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/4199998983770730967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/4199998983770730967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/05/uma-foto-sublime-num-momento-de-beleza.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/ShK03KnMXjI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qtPjamyBjA0/s72-c/Fotos_sensuais_Daniel_Radcliffe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-8691113379539187419</id><published>2009-05-14T06:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T06:01:45.160-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Devemos acreditar no sonho!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como dizia o poeta: “ o sonho comanda a vida”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um sonho é algo que nos faz crescer!&lt;br /&gt;Um sonho é algo que nos faz sentir feliz!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É um estado de graça que nos preenche de luz e nos faz sentir mais próximos do nosso eu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um sonho é algo que não devemos abandonar porque é a partir dele que podemos realizar a nossa interna vontade de ser e viver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os sonhos são metas que nos propomos alcançar e só com os nossos caminhos bem traçados podemos seguir na tal estrada da vida e alcançar um estado de evolução, somente assim, podemos conscientemente ser donos dos nossos destinos, que obviamente somos sempre com a diferença de consciente ou inconsciente.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-8691113379539187419?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/8691113379539187419/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=8691113379539187419' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/8691113379539187419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/8691113379539187419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/05/devemos-acreditar-no-sonho-como-dizia-o.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-3967884261606710171</id><published>2009-05-13T02:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T03:29:31.363-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SgqNqBFEEwI/AAAAAAAAAFM/cF9DxoEcQCc/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335232461557469954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 225px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 116px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SgqNqBFEEwI/AAAAAAAAAFM/cF9DxoEcQCc/s400/images.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sei que não é a primeira vez que escrevo no meu blogue sobre Lisboa mas sendo para mim a mais bela cidade do mundo não me canso de o escrever e dizer!&lt;br /&gt;Lisboa esta cheia de simbolismo, energia, luz...transmite um encanto único e como tudo o que me transmite algo tão belo tenho que exteriorizar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Assim deixo-vos mais um pouco desta luz de uma cidade de luz...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bjos&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-3967884261606710171?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/3967884261606710171/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=3967884261606710171' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3967884261606710171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3967884261606710171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/05/sei-que-nao-e-primeira-vez-que-escrevo.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SgqNqBFEEwI/AAAAAAAAAFM/cF9DxoEcQCc/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-195908869294280634</id><published>2009-05-10T07:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T07:27:08.428-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hoje sinto-me invadido de amor por ti&lt;br /&gt;O amor que sinto por ti faz-me sentir a pessoa mais amada e especial que algum dia me senti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amo-te porque tu és especial&lt;br /&gt;Amo-te porque tu és ternura&lt;br /&gt;Amo-te porque tu és unico&lt;br /&gt;Amo-te porque tu és a pessoa mais especial para mim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje sinto o nosso amor tal como no primeiro momento em que nossos lábios se tocaram e como por magia nossos corações se sintonizaram num unico amor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje sinto que mesmo ao longo dos nossos anos de amor, paixão, cumpliciade, partilha, vida em comun ainda é possivel acordar um dia, olhar para ti e sentir o prender da respiração e o encanto por ti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Possivel pela tua simples forma de ser&lt;br /&gt;Possivel pela tua forma genuina de viver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para ti meu amor, este momento especial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;És o meu porto de abrigo e sou muito feliz por te ter comigo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mil Beijos&lt;br /&gt;Duarte&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-195908869294280634?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/195908869294280634/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=195908869294280634' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/195908869294280634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/195908869294280634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/05/hoje-sinto-me-invadido-de-amor-por-ti-o.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-3531888105324559550</id><published>2009-04-22T01:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T01:24:52.329-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dia da Terra</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hoje é o dia internacional da TERRA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Julgo que não valerá a pena transmitir, tudo aquilo que já todos devíamos saber de como a preservar....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fica somente a lembrança no meu blogue!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-3531888105324559550?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/3531888105324559550/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=3531888105324559550' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3531888105324559550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3531888105324559550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/04/dia-da-terra.html' title='Dia da Terra'/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-5286981301348726401</id><published>2009-04-17T05:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T05:56:09.992-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Adoro Lisboa</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/Seh7MKIAvcI/AAAAAAAAAFE/RB_-MZkVwRU/s1600-h/lisbpcom02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325642008172215746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 262px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/Seh7MKIAvcI/AAAAAAAAAFE/RB_-MZkVwRU/s400/lisbpcom02.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Adoro Lisboa!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Esta é, para mim, considerada uma das mais belas praças do mundo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Dela conseguimos deslumbrar o encanto do rio Tejo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;É uma cidade de charme e encanto que nos aquece o coração, sempre!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Convido-vos a subir a uma das mais altas e belas colinas desta cidade: Graça!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;...e apreciem o entardecer e serão presenteados com uma Luz Sublime...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Beijos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-5286981301348726401?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/5286981301348726401/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=5286981301348726401' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/5286981301348726401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/5286981301348726401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/04/adoro-lisboa.html' title='Adoro Lisboa'/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/Seh7MKIAvcI/AAAAAAAAAFE/RB_-MZkVwRU/s72-c/lisbpcom02.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-6563731456426158535</id><published>2009-04-13T09:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T09:19:01.832-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Hoje pensei em ti, meu pensamento vagueou longe...tão longe que poisou em ti.&lt;br /&gt;Recordei o nosso primeiro beijo, imagina!&lt;br /&gt;Será que tu te lembras?&lt;br /&gt;Creio que não...não é por mal, com certeza...apenas porque não recordas!&lt;br /&gt;Sei que foi importante para ti, não da mesma forma mas sei que foi!&lt;br /&gt;São as nossas memórias, incontroláveis que de vez em quando fogem mesmo que não queiramos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-6563731456426158535?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/6563731456426158535/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=6563731456426158535' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/6563731456426158535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/6563731456426158535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/04/hoje-pensei-em-ti-meu-pensamento.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-6629382840356624281</id><published>2009-03-22T10:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T11:04:39.977-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Princípios&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Podíamos saber um pouco mais da morte.&lt;br /&gt;Mas não seria isso que nos faria ter vontade de morrer mais depressa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Podíamos saber um pouco mais da vida.&lt;br /&gt;Talvez não precisássemos de viver tanto, quando só o que é preciso é saber que temos de viver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Podíamos saber um pouco mais do amor.&lt;br /&gt;Mas não seria isso que nos faria deixar de amar ao saber exactamente o que é o amor ou amar mais ainda ao descobrir que, mesmo assim, nada sabemos do amor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nuno Judice&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-6629382840356624281?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/6629382840356624281/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=6629382840356624281' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/6629382840356624281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/6629382840356624281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/03/principios-podiamos-saber-um-pouco.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-5033740433819308687</id><published>2009-02-16T05:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T05:10:49.241-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Adoro o Sol e o tempo quente!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Adoro o Verão!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Adoro os campos Verdes!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Adoro o som das ondas enquanto eu fecho os meus olhos deitado no areal da praia!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Adoro a liberdade da roupa leve!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Adoro a vida com paixão!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Adoro....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-5033740433819308687?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/5033740433819308687/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=5033740433819308687' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/5033740433819308687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/5033740433819308687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/02/adoro-o-sol-e-o-tempo-quente-adoro-o.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-4066237792517001037</id><published>2009-02-03T09:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T09:26:24.984-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"Cada pessoa que passa em nossa vida, passa sozinha, é porque cada pessoa é única e nenhuma substitui a outra! Cada pessoa que passa em nossa vida passa sozinha e não nos deixa só porque deixa um pouco de si e leva um pouquinho de nós. Essa é a mais bela responsabilidade da vida e a prova de que as pessoas não se encontram por acaso."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="autor" href="http://www.pensador.info/autor/Charles_Chaplin/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Charles Chaplin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;É uma verdade incontornável escrita por um grande poeta. Partilho este pensamento pois trata-se de algo verdadeiro e que nada podemos fazer para o contrariar, nem devemos, todos nós tivemos alguém que não temos mais e delas algo ficou em nós que nos fez crescer enquanto Ser Humano...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Bjos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-4066237792517001037?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/4066237792517001037/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=4066237792517001037' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/4066237792517001037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/4066237792517001037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/02/cada-pessoa-que-passa-em-nossa-vida.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-357059769240887875</id><published>2009-01-26T05:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T05:44:40.169-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Coliseu - Lisboa 23/Jan</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SX290ph_zAI/AAAAAAAAAEs/Af_qtKJZctk/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295597449056865282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 252px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SX290ph_zAI/AAAAAAAAAEs/Af_qtKJZctk/s400/untitled.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Foi simplesmente magnifico...numa palavra: Mágico!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-357059769240887875?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/357059769240887875/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=357059769240887875' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/357059769240887875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/357059769240887875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/01/coliseu-lisboa-23jan.html' title='Coliseu - Lisboa 23/Jan'/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SX290ph_zAI/AAAAAAAAAEs/Af_qtKJZctk/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-3480969881635509795</id><published>2009-01-22T06:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T06:17:54.922-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Olhando o mar, sonho sem ter de quê.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nada no mar, salvo o ser mar, se vê.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mas de se nada ver quanto a alma sonha!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;De que me servem a verdade e a fé?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ver claro! Quantos, que fatais erramos,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Em ruas ou em estradas ou sob ramos,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Temos esta certeza e sempre e em tudo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sonhamos e sonhamos e sonhamos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;As árvores longínquas da floresta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Parecem, por longínquas, estar em festa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quanto acontece porque se não vê!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mas do que há pouco ou não há o mesmo resta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Se tive amores? Já não sei se os tive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quem ontem fui já hoje em mim não vive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Bebe, que tudo é líquido e embriaga,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E a vida morre enquanto o ser revive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Colhes rosas? Que colhes, se hão-de ser&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Motivos coloridos de morrer?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mas colhe rosas. Porque não colhê-las&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Se te agrada e tudo é deixar de o haver?                &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Fernando Pessoa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-3480969881635509795?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/3480969881635509795/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=3480969881635509795' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3480969881635509795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3480969881635509795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2009/01/olhando-o-mar-sonho-sem-ter-de-qu.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-3364264461598314810</id><published>2008-11-29T10:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T10:24:32.284-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/STGIrCsUgpI/AAAAAAAAAEk/RxXFlsdjW-I/s1600-h/2359991.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274146911666078354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 316px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/STGIrCsUgpI/AAAAAAAAAEk/RxXFlsdjW-I/s400/2359991.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;A idade da sabedoria, sem dúvida!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-3364264461598314810?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/3364264461598314810/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=3364264461598314810' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3364264461598314810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3364264461598314810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2008/11/idade-da-sabedoria-sem-dvida.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/STGIrCsUgpI/AAAAAAAAAEk/RxXFlsdjW-I/s72-c/2359991.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-1647415306078603950</id><published>2008-10-26T09:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T09:28:04.019-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Temos os nossos sonhos. Mas é preciso vivê-los também!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Denis Lehane&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-1647415306078603950?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/1647415306078603950/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=1647415306078603950' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/1647415306078603950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/1647415306078603950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2008/10/temos-os-nossos-sonhos.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-7785340470507422608</id><published>2008-09-22T10:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T10:15:29.751-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mamma Mia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SNfR9ouTaUI/AAAAAAAAAEc/FvbRwOomIEk/s1600-h/fotocena17.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248894747557456194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 228px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" height="156" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SNfR9ouTaUI/AAAAAAAAAEc/FvbRwOomIEk/s400/fotocena17.jpg" width="265" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SNfRz_RoW5I/AAAAAAAAAEU/HGrnj7dA8So/s1600-h/fotocena21.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248894581812517778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 234px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 103px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="138" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SNfRz_RoW5I/AAAAAAAAAEU/HGrnj7dA8So/s400/fotocena21.jpg" width="268" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;ADOREI o filme e aconselho a verem...a musica é fabulosa, claro! Os actores são fantásticos e a historia um encanto...um filme que "mexe" com nossos sentimentos e nos faz rir e nos deixa de bem com a vida...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-7785340470507422608?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/7785340470507422608/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=7785340470507422608' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/7785340470507422608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/7785340470507422608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2008/09/mamma-mia.html' title='Mamma Mia'/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SNfR9ouTaUI/AAAAAAAAAEc/FvbRwOomIEk/s72-c/fotocena17.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-9014528418839671425</id><published>2008-09-20T10:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T10:16:17.079-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;A verdade é que não há verdade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pablo Neruda&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-9014528418839671425?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/9014528418839671425/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=9014528418839671425' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/9014528418839671425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/9014528418839671425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2008/09/verdade-que-no-h-verdade.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-3416919648308374625</id><published>2008-09-19T08:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T08:26:02.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SNPD-KmUGzI/AAAAAAAAAEM/Ge-CNYCtyyg/s1600-h/070622_blog_uncovering_org_joerg-riethausen-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247753463581121330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SNPD-KmUGzI/AAAAAAAAAEM/Ge-CNYCtyyg/s400/070622_blog_uncovering_org_joerg-riethausen-2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Belo, mágico, encanto...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-3416919648308374625?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/3416919648308374625/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=3416919648308374625' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3416919648308374625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3416919648308374625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2008/09/belo-mgico-encanto.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SNPD-KmUGzI/AAAAAAAAAEM/Ge-CNYCtyyg/s72-c/070622_blog_uncovering_org_joerg-riethausen-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-1123368589446447276</id><published>2008-09-06T08:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T08:55:24.734-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SMKnwnzL-6I/AAAAAAAAAD8/KaYqgm7arfE/s1600-h/070622_blog_uncovering_org_joerg-riethausen-5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242937369971915682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SMKnwnzL-6I/AAAAAAAAAD8/KaYqgm7arfE/s400/070622_blog_uncovering_org_joerg-riethausen-5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Uma foto belissima...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-1123368589446447276?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/1123368589446447276/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=1123368589446447276' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/1123368589446447276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/1123368589446447276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2008/09/uma-foto-belissima.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SMKnwnzL-6I/AAAAAAAAAD8/KaYqgm7arfE/s72-c/070622_blog_uncovering_org_joerg-riethausen-5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-8678454096703190792</id><published>2008-09-03T15:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T15:18:34.139-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ser PoetaSer poeta é ser mais alto, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;é ser maiorDo que os homens! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Morder como quem beija!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;É ser mendigo e dar como quem seja&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Rei do Reino de Áquem e de Além Dor!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;É ter de mil desejos o esplendor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E não saber sequer que se deseja!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;É ter cá dentro um astro que flameja,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;É ter garras e asas de condor!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;É ter fome, é ter sede de Infinito!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Por elmo, as manhãs de oiro e de cetim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;É condensar o mundo num só grito!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E é amar-te, assim, perdidamente...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;É seres alma, e sangue, e vida em mim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E dizê-lo cantando a toda a gente!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-8678454096703190792?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/8678454096703190792/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=8678454096703190792' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/8678454096703190792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/8678454096703190792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2008/09/ser-poetaser-poeta-ser-mais-alto-ser.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-3779673761218680308</id><published>2008-08-22T16:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T16:11:02.267-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SK9HeiilTGI/AAAAAAAAADs/lE8-XvI2dcw/s1600-h/1996940.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237483481648680034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SK9HeiilTGI/AAAAAAAAADs/lE8-XvI2dcw/s400/1996940.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-3779673761218680308?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/3779673761218680308/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=3779673761218680308' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3779673761218680308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3779673761218680308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2008/08/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SK9HeiilTGI/AAAAAAAAADs/lE8-XvI2dcw/s72-c/1996940.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-8092623049881692525</id><published>2008-08-22T16:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T16:08:17.956-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Escolhe uma coisa e coloca nela toda a tua capacidade de ser. Coloca o teu infinito. Coloca o teu eterno. Coloca essa força invisível que sai de dentro de ti e a que podemos chamar de Vida. Coloca tudo isso nessa acção.&lt;br /&gt;Escolhe a acção e entrega-te.&lt;br /&gt;Nesse minuto, nesse tempo propício é que a tua alma está una. Nesse preciso momento, tu és.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-8092623049881692525?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/8092623049881692525/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=8092623049881692525' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/8092623049881692525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/8092623049881692525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2008/08/escolhe-uma-coisa-e-coloca-nela-toda.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-6720301969557177378</id><published>2008-08-13T15:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T15:16:59.175-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Dois amantes felizes não têm fim nem morte, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nascem e morrem tanta vez enquanto vivem, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;São eternos como é a natureza.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pablo Neruda&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-6720301969557177378?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/6720301969557177378/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=6720301969557177378' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/6720301969557177378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/6720301969557177378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2008/08/dois-amantes-felizes-no-tm-fim-nem.html' title=''/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-3786209506019309849</id><published>2008-08-13T14:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T14:59:00.227-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fotografia de Alberto Monteiro</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SKNY_Fj-FuI/AAAAAAAAADc/R3vyom-V1Ak/s1600-h/aar%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234125032782698210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SKNY_Fj-FuI/AAAAAAAAADc/R3vyom-V1Ak/s400/aar%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-3786209506019309849?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/3786209506019309849/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=3786209506019309849' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3786209506019309849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3786209506019309849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2008/08/fotografia-de-alberto-monteiro.html' title='Fotografia de Alberto Monteiro'/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SKNY_Fj-FuI/AAAAAAAAADc/R3vyom-V1Ak/s72-c/aar%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-3773626402138276995</id><published>2008-08-06T13:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T14:04:23.095-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MAR</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SJoOq1kKePI/AAAAAAAAADU/WnPAb6JcXDs/s1600-h/IM000420.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231510046240307442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SJoOq1kKePI/AAAAAAAAADU/WnPAb6JcXDs/s200/IM000420.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;"&gt;O MAR...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;"&gt;Existe algo mais belo na vida do que observar o mar?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;"&gt;Adoro o mar...a sua magia contagia o meu ser de uma forma unica e intensa que me faz sentir completo...a sua magia, a sua beleza, a sua "força" faz-me sentir especial por poder partilhar aquele momento...eu e ele!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;O MAR é uma força da natureza que não podemos controlar...que não podemos dominar...uma força unica como uma força interior que se sente em momentos unicos da nossa existencia que nos mostra caminhos a debravar tal como ele que corre num circulo natural da sua existencia....por isso o adoro porque ele é soberano, encantador e magico...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-3773626402138276995?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/3773626402138276995/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=3773626402138276995' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3773626402138276995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3773626402138276995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2008/08/mar.html' title='MAR'/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SJoOq1kKePI/AAAAAAAAADU/WnPAb6JcXDs/s72-c/IM000420.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-4720225201603583589</id><published>2008-06-10T06:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T06:35:34.691-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Para meu amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Nunca são as coisas mais simples que aparecem quando as esperamos. O que é mais simples, como o amor, ou o mais evidente dos sorrisos, não se encontra no curso previsível da vida. Porém, se nos distraímos do calendário, ou se o acaso dos passos nos empurrou para fora do caminho habitual, então as coisas são outras. Nada do que se espera transforma o que somos se não for isso: um desvio no olhar; ou a mão que se demora no teu ombro, forçando uma aproximação dos lábios.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nuno Júdice&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;Nuno Júdice é um dos poetas que mais admiro, em cada poema, em cada palavra existe a força de um sentimento que nos faz transportar para um "espaço" onde existe uma cumplicidade unica entre o leitor e a sua poesia...Diz Nuno Júdice " &lt;em&gt;O que é mais simples, como o amor, ou o mais evidente dos sorrisos, não se encontra no curso previsível da vida&lt;/em&gt;".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Confesso:&lt;/strong&gt; Tive medo de no curso de minha vida não o encontar. &lt;strong&gt;O AMOR&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;Julguei em tempos que por um momento ou outro o tinha encontrado mas a vida fez-me crer que não, chorei, sofri mas alcancei um dia esse amor...alcansei um estado unico que até então desconhecia. Um estado de &lt;strong&gt;PAZ.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;Para ti meu amor mil beijos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;AMO-TE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-4720225201603583589?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/4720225201603583589/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=4720225201603583589' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/4720225201603583589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/4720225201603583589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2008/06/nunca-so-as-coisas-mais-simples-que.html' title='Para meu amor'/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-7909792355957479658</id><published>2008-05-29T12:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T12:26:43.265-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O autor deste texto é João Pereira Coutinho, jornalista. ADOREI.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Não tenho filhos e tremo só de pensar. Os exemplos que vejo em volta não aconselham temeridades. Hordas de amigos constituem as respectivas proles e, apesar da benesse, não levam vidas descansadas. Pelo contrário: estão invariavelmente mergulhados numa angústia e numa ansiedade de contornos particularmente patológicos. Percebo porquê. Há cem ou duzentos anos, a vida dependia do berço, da posição social e da fortuna familiar. Hoje, não. A criança nasce, não numa família mas numa pista de atletismo, com as barreiras da praxe: jardim-escola aos três, natação aos quatro, lições de piano aos cinco, escola aos seis, e um exército de professores, explicadores, educadores e psicólogos, como se a criança fosse um potro de competição.&lt;br /&gt;Eis a ideologia criminosa que se instalou definitivamente nas sociedades modernas: a vida não é para ser vivida - mas construída com sucessos pessoais e profissionais, uns atrás dos outros, em progressão geométrica para o infinito. É preciso o emprego de sonho, a casa de sonho, o maridinho de sonho, os amigos de sonho, as férias de sonho, os restaurantes de sonho.&lt;br /&gt;Não admira que, até 2020, um terço da população mundial esteja a mamar forte no Prozac. É a velha história da cenoura e do burro: quanto mais temos, mais queremos. Quanto mais queremos, mais desesperamos. A meritocracia gera uma insatisfação insaciável que acabará por arrasar o mais leve traço de humanidade. O que não deixa de ser uma lástima.&lt;br /&gt;Se as pessoas voltassem a ler os clássicos, sobretudo Montaigne, saberiam que o fim último da vida não é a excelência, mas sim a felicidade!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;Um texto belo com uma mensagem para todos nós...leiam, vale a pena!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-7909792355957479658?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/7909792355957479658/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=7909792355957479658' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/7909792355957479658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/7909792355957479658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2008/05/o-autor-deste-texto-joo-pereira.html' title='O autor deste texto é João Pereira Coutinho, jornalista. ADOREI.'/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-9032726949163890443</id><published>2008-05-24T09:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-24T09:23:19.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Um conselho</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;A cada dia que vivo, mais me convenço de que o desperdício da vida está no amor que não damos, nas forças que não usamos, na prudência egoísta que nada arrisca, e que, esquivando-nos do sofrimento, perdemos também a felicidade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Carlos Drummond de Andrade&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-9032726949163890443?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/9032726949163890443/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=9032726949163890443' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/9032726949163890443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/9032726949163890443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2008/05/um-conselho.html' title='Um conselho'/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-8548401949001968996</id><published>2008-05-24T09:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-24T09:20:31.275-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A praia</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Hoje fui (fomos) ver o mar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;O mar estava calmo e as ondas seguiam o seu ritmo natural de vida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Nós caminhavamos no areal...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Areal limpo de lixo e de pessoas :-) a praia era só nossa (quase nossa)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Parece que tudo está pronto para nos receber e nos presentear com mais um momento unico que enriquece o nosso amor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-8548401949001968996?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/8548401949001968996/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=8548401949001968996' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/8548401949001968996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/8548401949001968996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2008/05/praia.html' title='A praia'/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-6351583720927782250</id><published>2008-05-22T16:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T16:42:11.947-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lisboa</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Lisboa por tràs dos muros da cidade no seu coração profundo de alicerces de argilas e de sísmicos arroios - cresce uma vozque sobe e fende a brandura das casas da escrita dos enumeráveis povos quasenada resta - deitas-te exausto na lâmina da luasem saberes que o tejo te corrói e te suprimede todas as idades da europamais além - para os lados do corpo - permanecea tosse dos cacilheiros os olhos reviradosdos mendigos - o tecto onde um navionos separa de um vácuo alimentado a soroplátanos brancos recortam-se luminescentes no olharde quem nos olha contra um céu desesperado - jardimde iris açucenas palmeiras cobertas de rocio ea ponte que nos leva aos campos do sul - lisboa lugar derradeiro do risoque já não te pode salvar do cemitério dos prazeres e morrescarregado de tristezas e de mistérios - morresalguressentado numa praceta de bairro - o olhar fixono inferno marítimo das aves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Al berto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-6351583720927782250?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/6351583720927782250/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=6351583720927782250' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/6351583720927782250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/6351583720927782250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2008/05/lisboa.html' title='Lisboa'/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-3869291204335059385</id><published>2008-05-18T07:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T07:28:02.631-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amigos</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;"&gt;O bom amigo é aquele que nas horas de tristeza procura suavizar a nossa dor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;"&gt;De um anigo esperamos sempre um pouco da sua força, para a nossa fraqueza.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;"&gt;O verdadeiro amigo é aquele que, nos momentos de desalento, aparece para nos encorajar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;"&gt;Quando temos algum problema, o bom amigo ajuda-nos a encontrar a solução.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;"&gt;Se estamos pertubados com algum pensamento negativo, o verdadeiro amigo, não descansa, enquanto não o transforma em pensamento posito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;"&gt;Nunes dos Santos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Para todos os meus amigos um abraço e um beijo...adoro-vos!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-3869291204335059385?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/3869291204335059385/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=3869291204335059385' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3869291204335059385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/3869291204335059385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2008/05/amigos.html' title='Amigos'/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-8583152908502825897</id><published>2008-05-08T13:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T08:46:48.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ontem estive...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Ontem estive no lançamento de um livro de um grande amigo meu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-8583152908502825897?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/8583152908502825897/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=8583152908502825897' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/8583152908502825897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/8583152908502825897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2008/05/ontem-estive.html' title='Ontem estive...'/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-1700085361212671655</id><published>2008-05-03T03:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T15:44:04.338-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mafalda Veiga</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Ontem comprei o novo album da Mafalda Veiga: Chão.&lt;br /&gt;Coloquei-o no leitor de CD do meu carro e subi o som!&lt;br /&gt;Subi o som até aquele limite em que a musica entra em nós e nos faz sentir as suas vibrações&lt;br /&gt;Contigo a meu lado numa noite calma e luminosa vagueamos nas ruas numa velocidade certa como se seguissemos o compasso da musica saboreando cada palavra dita, cada palavra escutada.&lt;br /&gt;Mais um momento unico partilhado contigo ao som da musica de uma grande senhora da musica Portuguesa: Mafalda Veiga.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-1700085361212671655?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/1700085361212671655/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=1700085361212671655' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/1700085361212671655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/1700085361212671655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2008/05/mafalda-veiga.html' title='Mafalda Veiga'/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-2959412643041228166</id><published>2008-05-02T04:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T16:12:10.017-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Contigo Descobri...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SBufEZr5z2I/AAAAAAAAADM/dFym-I-uC9w/s1600-h/IM000529.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195921493065322338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 222px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 137px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="137" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SBufEZr5z2I/AAAAAAAAADM/dFym-I-uC9w/s200/IM000529.JPG" width="431" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Mais um fim-de-semana numa cidade descoberta contigo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Uma cidade com uma luz unica e com uma tranquilidade mágica&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Uma tranquilidade que por vezes me incomoda mas que por ti estou e por ti estarei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Contigo descobri coisas unicas que me fazem sentir a vida como nunca a senti&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Contigo descobri novos sentimentos a brotarem de mim como um amor unico por ti&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Por ti e para ti estarei sempre aqui neste lugar...mágico...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;Tavira - Abril/2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-2959412643041228166?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/2959412643041228166/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=2959412643041228166' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/2959412643041228166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/2959412643041228166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2008/05/contigo-descobri.html' title='Contigo Descobri...'/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SBufEZr5z2I/AAAAAAAAADM/dFym-I-uC9w/s72-c/IM000529.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2096056087548872105.post-2900538257930996633</id><published>2008-05-01T14:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T14:59:27.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Um poeta unico</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;O PoetaTrabalha agora na importação e exportação. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Importa metáforas, exporta alegorias. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Podia ser um trabalhador por conta própria, um desses que preenche cadernos de folha azul com números de deve e haver. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;De facto, o que deve são palavras; e o que tem é esse vazio de frases que lhe acontece quando se encosta ao vidro, no inverno, e a chuva cai do outro lado. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Então, pensa que poderia importar o sol e exportar as nuvens. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Poderia ser um trabalhador do tempo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Mas, de certo modo, a sua prática confunde-se com a de um escultor do movimento. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Fere, com a pedra do instante, o que passa a caminho da eternidade; suspende o gesto que sonha o céu; e fixa, na dureza da noite, o bater de asas, o azul, a sábia interrupção da morte. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2096056087548872105-2900538257930996633?l=duartememorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/feeds/2900538257930996633/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2096056087548872105&amp;postID=2900538257930996633' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/2900538257930996633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2096056087548872105/posts/default/2900538257930996633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://duartememorias.blogspot.com/2008/05/um-poeta-unico.html' title='Um poeta unico'/><author><name>Mário Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06762141803302553540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fzQeY8c7nVc/SoWDYiKuycI/AAAAAAAAAHc/oKRZHm-6-_g/S220/images%5B4%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
