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Um extrato do livro "As Intermitências da Morte" de Saramago, que eu adaptei, especialmente ao nível da pontuação, uma vez que o referido senhor tem a mania de não usar os sinais de escrita convencionais, preferindo levar tudo "a eito", com virgulas, maiúsculas e pontos, dificultando assim a leitura.

Tomem muita atenção à pontuação, para perceberem todo o sentido das frases.

 

 

«Em poucas palavras se conta [a fábula da tigela de madeira], e aqui a vamos deixar para ilustração das novas gerações (...). Atenção, pois, à lição de moral. Era uma vez, no antigo país das fábulas, uma familia em que havia um pai, uma mãe, um avô que era o pai do pai e uma criança de oito anos, um rapazinho. Ora sucedia que o avô já tinha muita idade, por isso tremiam-lhe as mãos e deixava cair a comida da boca quando estavam à mesa, o que causava grande irritação ao filho e à nora, sempre a dizerem-lhe que tivesse cuidado com o que fazia, mas o pobre velho, por mais que quisesse, não conseguia conter as tremuras, pior ainda se lhe ralhavam, e o resultado era estar sempre a sujar a toalha, para já não falar do guardanapo que lhe atavam ao pescoço e que era preciso mudar-lhe três vezes ao dia, ao almoço, ao jantar e à ceia. Estavam as coisas neste pé e sem nenhuma expectativa de melhora quando o filho resolveu acabar com a desagradável situação. Apareceu em casa com uma tigela de madeira e disse ao pai: "A partir de hoje pasará acomer aqui, senta-se na soleira da porta porque é mais facil de limpar e assim já a sua nora não terá de preocupar-se com tantas toalhas e tantos guardanapos sujos.". E assim foi. Almoço, jantar e ceia, o velho sentado sozinho na soleira da porta, levando a comida à boca como lhe era possível, metade perdia-se no caminho, uma parte da outra metade escorria-lhe pelo queixo abaixo, não era muito o que lhe descia finalmente pelo que o vulgo lhe chama o canal da sopa. Ao neto parecia não lhe importar o feio tratamento que estavam a dar ao avô, olhava-o, depois olhava o pai e mãe, e continuava a comer como se não tivesse nada que ver  com o caso. Até que uma tarde, ao regresar do trabalho, o pai viu o filho a trabalhar com uma navalha um pedaço de madeira e jugou que, come era normal e corrente nessas épocas remotas, estivesse a construir um brinquedo por suas próprias mãos. No dia seguinte, porém, deu-se conta que não se tratava de um carrinho, pelo menos não se lhe via sitio onde se lhe pudessem encaixar umas rodas, e então perguntou: "Que estás a fazer?". (...) o filho, sem levantar a vista da operação, respondeu: " Estou a fazer uma tigela para quando o pai for velho e lhe tremerem as mãos, para quando o mandarem comer na soleira da porta como fizeram ao avô.". Foram palavras santas. Cairam as escamas dos olhos do pai, viu a verdade e a sua luz, e no mesmo instante foi pedir perdão ao progenitor e quando chegou a hora da ceia por suas próprias mãos lhe levou a colher à boca, por suas próprias mãos lhe limpou suavemente o queixo, porque ainda o podia fazer e o seu querido pai não.»

 

 

Autoria e outros dados (tags, etc)

 

When little Snow-White's mother died,
The king, her father, up and cried,
'Oh, what a nuisance! What a life!
'Now I must find another wife!'
(It's never easy for a king
To find himself that sort of thing.)
He wrote to every magazine
And said, 'I'm looking for a Queen.'
At least ten thousand girls replied
And begged to be the royal bride.
The king said with a shifty smile,
'I'd like to give each one a trial.'
However, in the end he chose
A lady called Miss Maclahose,
Who brought along a curious toy
That seemed to give her endless joy --
This was a mirror framed in brass,
A MAGIC TALKING LOOKING GLASS.
Ask it something day or night,
It always got the answer right.
For instance, if you were to say,
'Oh Mirror, what's for lunch today?'
The thing would answer in a trice,
'Today it's scrambled eggs and rice.'

Now every day, week in week out,
The spoiled and stupid Queen would shout,
'Oh Mirror, Mirror on the wall,
'Who is the fairest of them all?'
The Mirror answered every time,
'Oh Madam, you're the Queen sublime.
'You are the only one to charm us,
'Queen, you are the cat's pyjamas.'
For ten whole years the silly Queen
Repeated this absurd routine.
Then suddenly, one awful day,
She heard the Magic Mirror say,
'From now on, Queen, you're Number Two.
'Snow-White is prettier than you!'
The Queen went absolutely wild.
She yelled, 'I'm going to scrag that child!
'I'll cook her flaming goose!
I'll skin 'er!
'I'll have her rotten guts for dinner!'
She called the Huntsman to her study.
She shouted at him, 'Listen buddy!
'You drag that filthy girl outside,
'And see you take her for a ride!
'Thereafter slit her ribs apart
'And bring me back her bleeding heart!'
The Huntsman dragged the lovely child
Deep, deep into the forest wild.
Fearing the worst, poor Snow-White spake.
She cried, 'Oh please give me a break!'
The knife was poised, the arm was strong,
She cried again, 'I've done no wrong!'
The Huntsman's heart began to flutter.
It melted like a pound of butter.
He murmured, 'Okay, beat it, kid,'
And you can bet your life she did

Later, the Huntsman made a stop
Within the local butcher's shop,
And there he bought, for safety's sake,
A bullock's heart and one nice steak.
'Oh Majesty! Oh Queen!' he cried,
'That rotten little girl has died!
'And just to prove I didn't cheat,
'I've brought along these bits of meat.'
'The Queen cried out, 'Bravissimo!
'I trust you killed her nice and slow.'
Then (this is the disgusting part)
The Queen sat down and ate the heart!
(I only hope she cooked it well.
Boiled heart can be as tough as hell).

While all of this was going on,
Oh where, oh where had Snow-White gone?
She'd found it easy, being pretty,
To hitch a ride in to the city,
And there she'd got a job, unpaid,
As general cook and parlour-maid
With seven funny little men,
Each one not more than three foot ten,
Ex horse-race jockeys, all of them

These Seven Dwarfs, though awfully nice,
Were guilty of one shocking vice --
They squandered all of their resources
At the race-track backing horses.
(When they hadn't backed a winner,
None of them got any dinner.)
One evening, Snow-White said,
'Look here, 'I think I've got a great idea.
'Just leave it all to me, okay?
'And no more gambling till I say.'
That very night, at eventide,
Young Snow-White hitched another ride,
And then, when it was very late,
She slipped in through the Palace gate.
The King was in his counting house
Counting out his money,
The Queen was in the parlour
Eating bread and honey,
The footmen and the servants slept
So no one saw her as she crept
On tip-toe through the mighty hall
And grabbed the mirror off the wall.
As soon as she had got it home,
She told the Senior Dwarf (or Gnome)
To ask it what he wished to know.
'Go on!' she shouted. 'Have a go!'
He said, 'Oh Mirror, please don't joke!
'Each one of us is stony broke!
'Which horse will win tomorrow's race,
'The Ascot Gold Cup Steeplechase?'
The Mirror whispered sweet and low,
'The horse's name is Mistletoe.'
The Dwarfs went absolutely daft,
They kissed young Snow-White fore and aft,
Then rushed away to raise some dough
With which to back old Mistletoe.
They pawned their watches, sold the car,
They borrowed money near and far,
(For much of it they had to thank
The manager of Barclays Bank.)
They went to Ascot and of course
For once they backed the winning horse

Thereafter, every single day,
The Mirror made the bookies pay.
Each Dwarf and Snow-White got a share,
And each was soon a millionaire,
Which shows that gambling's not a sin
Provided that you always win.

 

Autoria e outros dados (tags, etc)

 

 

The animal I really dig
Above all others is the pig.
Pigs are noble. Pigs are clever,
Pigs are courteous. However,
Now and then, to break this rule,
One meets a pig who is a fool.
What, for example, would you say
If strolling through the woods one day,
Right there in front of you, you saw
A pig who'd built his house of STRAW?
The Wolf who saw it licked his lips,
And said, 'That pig has had his chips.'

'Little pig, little pig, let me come in!'
'No, no, by the hairs on my chinny-chin-chin!'
'Then I'll huff and I'll puff
'And I'll blow your house in!'

The little pig began to pray,
But Wolfie blew his house away.
He shouted, 'Bacon, pork and ham!
'Oh, what a lucky Wolf I am!'
And though he ate the pig quite fast,
He carefully kept the tail till last.
Wolf wandered on, a trifle bloated.
Surprise, surprise, for soon he noted
Another little house for pigs,
And this one had been built of TWIGS!

'Little pig, little pig, let me come in!'
'No, no, by the hairs on my chinny-chin-chin!'
'Then I'll huff and I'll puff
'And I'll blow your house in!'

The Wolf said, 'Okay, here we go!'
He then began to blow and blow.
The little pig began to squeal.
He cried, 'Oh Wolf, you've had one meal!
'Why can't we talk and make a deal?'
The Wolf replied, 'Not on your nelly!'
And soon the pig was in his belly.
'Two juicy little pigs!' Wolf cried,
'But still I am not satisfied!
'I know full well my Tummy's bulging,
'But oh, how I adore indulging.'
So creeping quietly as a mouse,
The Wolf approached another house,
A house which also had inside
A little piggy trying to hide.
But this one, Piggy Number Three,
Was bright and brainy as could be.
No straw for him, no twigs or sticks.
This pig had built his house of BRICKS.
'You'll not get me!' the Piggy cried.
'I'll blow you down!' the Wolf replied.
'You'll need,' Pig said, 'a lot of puff,
'And I don't think you've got enough.'
Wolf huffed and puffed and blew and blew.
The house stayed up as good as new.
'If I can't blow it down,' Wolf said,
'I'll have to blow it up instead.
'I'll come back in the dead of night
'And blow it up with dynamite!'
Pig cried, 'You brute! I might have known!'
Then, picking up the telephone,
He dialled as quickly as he could
The number of Red Riding Hood.
'Hello,' she said. 'Who's speaking? Who?
'Oh, hello Piggy, how d'you do?'
Pig cried, 'I need your help, Miss Hood!
'Oh help me, please! D'you think you could?'
'I'll try, of course,' Miss Hood replied.
'What's on your mind?' ... 'A Wolf!' Pig cried.
'I know you've dealt with wolves before,
'And now I've got one at my door!'
'My darling Pig,' she said, 'my sweet,
'That's something really up my street.
'I've just begun to wash my hair.
'But when it's dry, I'll be right there.'
A short while later, through the wood,
Came striding brave Miss Riding Hood.
The Wolf stood there, his eyes ablaze
And yellowish, like mayonnaise.
His teeth were sharp, his gums were raw,
And spit was dripping from his jaw.
Once more the maiden's eyelid flickers.
She draws the pistol from her knickers.
Once more, she hits the vital spot,
And kills him with a single shot.
Pig, peeping through the window, stood
And yelled, 'Well done, Miss Riding Hood!'

Ah, Piglet, you must never trust
Young ladies from the upper crust.
For now, Miss Riding Hood, one notes,
Not only has two wolf-skin coats,
But when she goes from place to place,
She has a PIGSKIN TRAVELLING CASE

 

Autoria e outros dados (tags, etc)

 

Jack's mother said, 'We're stony broke!
'Go out and find some wealthy bloke
'Who'll buy our cow. Just say she's sound
'And worth at least a hundred pound.
'But don't you dare to let him know
'That she's as old as billy-o.'
Jack led the old brown cow away,
And came back later in the day,
And said, 'Oh mumsie dear, guess what
'Your clever little boy has got.
'I got, I really don't know how,
'A super trade-in for our cow.
The mother said, 'You little creep,
'I'll bet you sold her much too cheap.'
When Jack produced one lousy bean,
His startled mother, turning green,
Leaped high up in the air and cried,
'I'm absolutely stupefied!
'You crazy boy! D'you really mean
'You sold our Daisy for a bean?'
She snatched the bean. She yelled, 'You chump!'
And flung it on the rubbish-dump.
Then summoning up all her power,
She beat the boy for half an hour,
Using (and nothing could be meaner)
The handle of a vacuum-cleaner

At ten p.m. or thereabout,
The little bean began to sprout.
By morning it had grown so tall
You couldn't see the top at all.
Young Jack cried, 'Mum, admit it now!
'It's better than a rotten cow!'
The mother said, 'You lunatic!
'Where are the beans that I can pick?
'There's not one bean! It's bare as bare!'
'No no!' cried Jack. 'You look up there!
'Look very high and you'll behold
'Each single leaf is solid gold!'
By gollikins, the boy was right!
Now, glistening in the morning light,
The mother actually perceives
A mass of lovely golden leaves!
She yells out loud, 'My sainted souls!
'I'll sell the Mini, buy a Rolls!
'Don't stand and gape, you little clot!
'Get up there quick and grab the lot!'
Jack was nimble, Jack was keen.
He scrambled up the mighty bean.
Up, up he went without a stop,
But just as he was near the top,
A ghastly frightening thing occurred --
Not far above his head he heard
A big deep voice, a rumbling thing
That made the very heavens ring.
It shouted loud, 'FEE FI FOFUM
'I SMELL THE BLOOD OF AN ENGLISHMAN!'
Jack was frightened, Jack was quick,
And down he climbed in half a tick.
'Oh mum!' he gasped. 'Believe you me
'There's something nasty up our tree!
'I saw him, mum! My gizzard froze!
'A Giant with a clever nose!'
'A clever nose!' his mother hissed.
'You must be going round the twist!'
'He smelled me out, I swear it, mum!
'He said he smelled an Englishman!'
The mother said, 'And well he might!
'I've told you every single night
'To take a bath because you smell,
'But would you do it? Would you hell!
'You even make your mother shrink
'Because of your unholy stink!'
Jack answered, 'Well, if you're so clean
'Why don't you climb the crazy bean.'
The mother cried, 'By gad, I will!
'There's life within the old dog still!'
She hitched her skirts above her knee
And disappeared right up the tree.
Now would the Giant smell his mum?
Jack listened for the fee-fo-fum.
He gazed aloft. He wondered when
The dreaded words would come... And then...
From somewhere high above the ground
There came a frightful crunching sound.
He heard the Giant mutter twice,
'By gosh, that tasted very nice.
'Although' (and this in grumpy tones)
'I wish there weren't so many bones.'
'By Christopher!' Jack cried. 'By gum!
'The Giant's eaten up my mum!
'He smelled her out! She's in his belly!
'I had a hunch that she was smelly.'
Jack stood there gazing longingly
Upon the huge and golden tree.
He murmured softly, 'Golly-gosh,
'I guess I'll have to take a wash
'If I am going to climb this tree
'Without the Giant smelling me.
'In fact, a bath's my only hope...
He rushed indoors and grabbed the soap
He scrubbed his body everywhere.
He even washed and rinsed his hair.
He did his teeth, he blew his nose
And went out smelling like a rose

Once more he climbed the mighty bean.
The Giant sat there, gross, obscene,
Muttering through his vicious teeth
(While Jack sat tensely just beneath),
Muttering loud, 'FEE FI FO FUM,
'RIGHT NOW I CAN'T SMELL ANYONE.'
Jack waited till the Giant slept,
Then out along the boughs he crept
And gathered so much gold, I swear
He was an instant millionaire.
'A bath,' he said, 'does seem to pay.
'I'm going to have one every day.'

 

Autoria e outros dados (tags, etc)

Sempre fui amante de histórias de terror. Mas têm que ser mesmo de terror! Daquelas que nos põem os pelos do pescoço em pé e em que o simples virar das folhas nos causa arrepios.

Para aqueles que ainda não se "converteram", transcrevi uma pequena passagem de uma história de um dos meus autores preferidos, se bem que ainda bastante desconhecido no mundo da literatura de terror.

 

 

(...) A chuva caía torrencialmente e o vento soprava forte, fazendo esvoaçar os cabelos louros de Elsa. O céu negro era constantemente rasgado por  relâmpagos luminosos que rebentavam estrondosamente.

Elsa encontrava-se na berma de uma estrada secundária mal iluminada e pedia boleia à horas. Mas em vão; nenhuma viva alma passava naquela estrada deserta.

Subitamante, um relampago colossal desvendou um carro que se tinha aproximado e parado perto dela.

Radiante, entrou de imediato, fechando a porta. Foi então que reparou, horrorizada, que não havia ninguém no banco do condutor.

O carro reiniciou lentamente a marcha. A jovem olhava petrificada para a estrada, quando vê uma curva a aproximar-se. O carro continuava a avançar perigosamante e Elsa sentiu o sangue gelar-lhe nas veias.

Mas, no preciso instante em que se encontrava a escassos metros da curva, uma mão fantasmagórica, branca como a cera, surge da janela do carro e move o volante.

Paralizada de terror, Elsa continua a observar as constantes aparições da mão fantasma antes de cada curva do caminho.

Até que, num derradeiro e herculeo esforço, salta do carro e, desesperada, corre até à cidade mais próxima.

Exausta, encharcada e em estado de choque, entra num pequeno bar onde, depois de pedir uma bebida forte, relata a sua horripilante história, perante os olhares atónitos de todos os que lá se encontravam.

Subitamente, com um estrondo, as portas do bar escancaram-se de par em par e dois homens encharcados entram. Ao verem Elsa, exclamam um para o outro:

"Olha lá! Aquela não é a loira que entrou no nosso carro quando o estávamos a empurrar?"

                                                          

                                                                                       

 

He! He! He! He!

Aterrorizante, não acham?

 

Texto original de Não-Sei-Quem

(Brilhantemente) Adaptado por Inner demon

 

 

 

 

Autoria e outros dados (tags, etc)


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