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DIA 9: “Uma m\u00fasica que te deixa feliz”<\/strong><\/p>\n M\u00fasica sempre me faz feliz. Principalmente as… tristes. \ud83d\ude42<\/p>\n Em qualquer lugar que eu esteja e come\u00e7ar a tocar “Rust”, do Echo and The Bunnymen, por exemplo, eu come\u00e7arei a sorrir.<\/p>\n Mas, ok, vamos pensar em can\u00e7\u00f5es “felizes”. Indo por esse lado, pensei primeiramente em “Maqui\u00e1vel Para Crian\u00e7as”, uma p\u00e9rola do repert\u00f3rio do grupo paulistano Meia Duzia de 3 ou 4. Tamb\u00e9m pensei em outra historinha com come\u00e7o, meio e fim que sempre coloca um sorriso no meu rosto: “Pois Foi”, do Deolinda, a saga de uma garota menosprezada por um babaca que, no final, a encontra acompanhada de outro num caf\u00e9.<\/p>\n Poderia ser “Lazy Line Painter Jane” do Belle & Sebastian, “Soul Love” do Bowie, “Let’s Call The Whole Thing Off” com Ella e Louis, “The Man Who?” de Josh Rouse & Paz Suay, “Romeu had Juliette” de Lou Reed, “Un R\u00edo” de Edu Schmidt, “You and Me Song” do Wannadies e tantas outras. Mas hoje vou escolher “Lucy”, do Divine Comedy, porque ela explica tudo isso de uma maneira pr\u00e1tica.<\/p>\n “Lucy”, Divine Comedy<\/em> I travelled among unknown men ‘Tis past, that melancholy dream! Among thy mountains did I feel Thy mornings showed, thy nights concealed She dwelt among the untrodden ways A violet by a mossy stone She lived unknown, and few could know A slumber did my spirit seal; No motion has she now, no force;
\ndo \u00e1lbum “Liberation”, 1993<\/em><\/p>\n
\nIn lands beyond the sea;
\nNor, England did I know till then
\nWhat love I bore to thee<\/p>\n
\nNor will I quit thy shore
\nA second time; for I still seem
\nTo love thee more and more<\/p>\n
\nThe joy of my desire;
\nAnd she I cherished turned her wheel
\nBeside an English fire<\/p>\n
\nThe bowers where Lucy played;
\nAnd thine too is the last green field
\nThat Lucy’s eyes surveyed<\/p>\n
\nBeside the springs of Dove
\nA Maid whom there were none to praise
\nAnd very few to love:<\/p>\n
\nHalf hidden from the eye
\n-Fair as a star, when only one
\nIs shining in the sky<\/p>\n
\nWhen Lucy ceased to be;
\nBut she is in her grave and, oh
\nThe difference to me<\/p>\n
\nI had no human fears;
\nShe seemed a thing that could not feel
\nThe touch of earthly years<\/p>\n
\nShe neither hears nor sees;
\nRolled around in earth’s diurnal course
\nWith rocks, and stones, and trees<\/p>\n