budapest é aqui

hoje li o último livro do chico buarque. não tive escolha, comecei de manhã lendo no banheiro e não sosseguei enquanto não terminei. adoro esse tipo de livro que não te dá escolha: tem que ler até o fim, numa sentada. não conhecia a prosa do chico, mas pelas suas letras não poderia esperar menos.

minas tirith

"pippin gazed in growing wonder at the great stone city, vaster and more splendid than anything that he had dreamed of; greater and stronger than isengard, and far more beautiful. yet it was in truth falling year by year into decay; and already it lacked half the men that it could have dwelt at ease there. in every street they passed some great house or court over whose doors and arched gates were carved many fair letters of strange and ancient shapes: names pippin guessed of great men and kindreds that had once dwelt there; and yet now they were silent, and no footsteps rang on their wide pavements, nor voice was heard in their halls, nor any face looked out from door or empty window." the lord of the rings, the return of the king, p. 12.