02 dezembro 2015

Em verdade te digo, Ruben Patrick

Ainda que ela conte na primeira pessoa histórias da segunda grande guerra, ainda que ela te diga que naquele tempo só havia rádio, ainda que a voz lhe trema quando fala do António Calvário, ainda que saibas que ela tem um filho com a mesma idade que tu tens, nunca, mas nunca, sejas imprudente ao ponto de    proferir um número superior a trinta e nove quando responderes à pergunta "quantos me dá?".

7 comentários:

  1. Lembra-me isto:

    Back in the day you had been part of the smart set
    You'd holidayed with kings, dined out with starlets
    From London to New York, Cap Ferrat to Capri
    In perfume by Chanel and clothes by Givenchy
    You sipped camparis with David and Peter
    At Noel's parties by Lake Geneva
    Scaling the dizzy heights of high society
    Armed only with a cheque book and a family tree
    You chased the sun around the Cote d'Azur
    Until the light of youth became obscured
    And left you on your own and in the shade
    An English lady of a certain age
    And if a nice young man would buy you a drink
    You'd say with a conspiratorial wink
    You wouldn't think that I was seventy
    And he'd say, No, you couldn't be
    You had to marry someone very very rich
    So that you might be kept in the style to which
    You had all of your life been accustomed to
    But that the socialists had taxed away from you
    You gave him children, a girl and a boy
    To keep your sanity a nanny was employed
    And when the time came they were sent away
    Well that was simply what you did in those days
    You chased the sun around the Cote d'Azur
    Until the light of youth became obscured
    And left you on your own and in the shade
    An English lady of a certain age
    And if a nice young man would buy you a drink
    You'd say with a conspiratorial wink
    "You wouldn't think that I was sixty three"
    And he'd say, "No, you couldn't be
    Your son's in stocks and bonds and lives back in Surrey
    Flies down once in a while and leaves in a hurry
    Your daughter never finished her finishing school
    Married a strange young man of whom you don't approve
    Your husband's hollow heart gave out one Christmas Day
    He left the villa to his mistress in Marseilles
    And so you come here to escape your little flat
    Hoping someone will fill your glass and let you chat about how
    You chased the sun around the Cote d'Azur
    Until the light of youth became obscured
    And left you all alone and in the shade
    An English lady of a certain age
    And if a nice young man would buy you a drink
    You'd say with a conspiratorial wink
    "You wouldn't think that I was fifty three"
    And he'd say, "No, you couldn't be


    Read more: Divine Comedy - A Lady Of A Certain Age

    ResponderEliminar
  2. Meu caro,
    A sério que lhe perguntam "quantos me dá?"? Dá-se com cada "ela".
    Cumprimentos,
    Outro Ente.

    ResponderEliminar
  3. Ai, que feio fazer das mulheres tontas...

    ResponderEliminar
  4. Anónimo2.12.15

    Boa noite, tio. Seria bem pior se ela lhe perguntasse "quantas me dá"? Espero que tenha sido espirituoso na resposta porque "quantos me dá" abre tantas possibilidades...
    O jantar chama por mim.

    ResponderEliminar
  5. Anónimo3.12.15

    É muito feio mentir, mas é igualmente feio perguntar aos outros quantos anos é que acham que temos. Feio feio.

    ResponderEliminar
  6. (Oh... A blogosfera... Esse elevado patamar civilizacional por onde só circulam pessoas de esmerado trato que também só se relacionam com gente educada nos clássicos colégios na suíça. )

    ResponderEliminar
  7. Anónimo4.12.15

    Que gargalhada me fez dar, tio!

    ResponderEliminar