<?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'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16552321</id><updated>2009-02-21T06:45:51.119-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chez Marie</title><subtitle type='html'>j´ai 19 et il a... je n´ai sais pas, nous promênes dans le voiture. Il s´habille en noir e moi en blanc. Bien sur qu´il vainquit toujours. Bang bang. Mon cher m´atteignis. But, finally, "seasons came and changed the time"! My despair and my happiness are just the same.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nachhause.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16552321/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nachhause.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Marianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08292586152738043739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16552321.post-112807955538405381</id><published>2005-09-30T04:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-30T04:25:55.390-07:00</updated><title type='text'>tempo para mim</title><content type='html'>Em meio a tantas decepções,problemas pessoais e tristezas coletivas... será que é possível dizer: "Eu sou feliz"?... Como alguém pode afirmar com convicção sentimentos de plena felicidade, quando à sua volta pessoas morrem de fome, a classe detentora do poder já perdeu a vergonha de rir na frente do povo, quando mães morrem e amigos sofrem, quando o mundo mostra-se efêmero e os ideais sonhados e valores almejados estão, a cada dia, mais fragilizados? Desculpem-me, mas eu não posso compactuar com isso. Posso até sorrir, posso brincar, posso até mesmo pensar que sou feliz... mas não ouso dizer... não, pois isto é impossível.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song: Morning Passages - Philip Glass... inigualável&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16552321-112807955538405381?l=nachhause.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nachhause.blogspot.com/feeds/112807955538405381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16552321&amp;postID=112807955538405381' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16552321/posts/default/112807955538405381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16552321/posts/default/112807955538405381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nachhause.blogspot.com/2005/09/tempo-para-mim.html' title='tempo para mim'/><author><name>Marianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08292586152738043739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05201085254037864675'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16552321.post-112663105812839755</id><published>2005-09-13T09:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-13T10:04:18.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I miss Rio...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4373/1574/1600/ela%20eh%20carioca.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4373/1574/320/ela%20eh%20carioca.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saudades do Rio, dos meus amigos queridos, dos passeios em Itacoaiara, das andanças de moto, das passadas em Botafogo e em sua exuberante praia... saudade da Lagoa, do Cristo, "braços abertos sobre a Guanabara". Saudade de muita coisa...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ela é carioca&lt;br /&gt;Ela é carioca&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basta o jeitinho dela andar&lt;br /&gt;Nem ninguém tem carinho assim para dar&lt;br /&gt;Eu vejo na cor dos seus olhos&lt;br /&gt;As noites do Rio ao luar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vejo a mesma luz&lt;br /&gt;Vejo o mesmo céu&lt;br /&gt;Vejo o mesmo mar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ela é meu amor, só me vê a mim&lt;br /&gt;A mim que vivi para encontrar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na luz do seu olhar&lt;br /&gt;A paz que sonhei&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Só sei que sou louca por ela&lt;br /&gt;E pra mim ela é linda demais&lt;br /&gt;E além do mais&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ela é carioca&lt;br /&gt;Ela é carioca&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Só sei que sou louca por ela&lt;br /&gt;E pra mim ela é linda demais&lt;br /&gt;E além do mais&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ela é carioca&lt;br /&gt;Ela é carioca&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                    Tom Jobim&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16552321-112663105812839755?l=nachhause.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nachhause.blogspot.com/feeds/112663105812839755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16552321&amp;postID=112663105812839755' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16552321/posts/default/112663105812839755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16552321/posts/default/112663105812839755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nachhause.blogspot.com/2005/09/i-miss-rio.html' title='I miss Rio...'/><author><name>Marianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08292586152738043739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05201085254037864675'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16552321.post-112647626789201797</id><published>2005-09-11T15:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-11T15:04:27.896-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O mestre Neruda</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4373/1574/1600/Pablo%20Neruda.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4373/1574/320/Pablo%20Neruda.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem morre?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morre lentamente&lt;br /&gt;quem se transforma em escravo do hábito,&lt;br /&gt;repetindo todos os dias os mesmos trajectos, quem não muda de marca&lt;br /&gt;Não se arrisca a vestir uma nova cor ou não conversa com quem não conhece.&lt;br /&gt;Morre lentamente&lt;br /&gt;quem faz da televisão o seu guru.&lt;br /&gt;Morre lentamente&lt;br /&gt;quem evita uma paixão,&lt;br /&gt;quem prefere o negro sobre o branco&lt;br /&gt;e os pontos sobre os "is" em detrimento de um redemoinho de emoções,&lt;br /&gt;justamente as que resgatam o brilho dos olhos,&lt;br /&gt;sorrisos dos bocejos,&lt;br /&gt;corações aos tropeços e sentimentos.&lt;br /&gt;Morre lentamente&lt;br /&gt;quem não vira a mesa quando está infeliz com o seu trabalho,&lt;br /&gt;quem não arrisca o certo pelo incerto para ir atrás de um sonho,&lt;br /&gt;quem não se permite pelo menos uma vez na vida,&lt;br /&gt;fugir dos conselhos sensatos.&lt;br /&gt;Morre lentamente&lt;br /&gt;quem não viaja,&lt;br /&gt;quem não lê,&lt;br /&gt;quem não ouve música,&lt;br /&gt;quem não encontra graça em si mesmo.&lt;br /&gt;Morre lentamente&lt;br /&gt;quem destrói o seu amor-próprio,&lt;br /&gt;quem não se deixa ajudar.&lt;br /&gt;Morre lentamente,&lt;br /&gt;quem passa os dias queixando-se da sua má sorte&lt;br /&gt;ou da chuva incessante.&lt;br /&gt;Morre lentamente,&lt;br /&gt;quem abandona um projecto antes de iniciá-lo,&lt;br /&gt;não pergunta sobre um assunto que desconhece&lt;br /&gt;ou não responde quando lhe indagam sobre algo que sabe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Evitemos a morte em doses suaves,&lt;br /&gt;recordando sempre que estar vivo exige um esforço muito maior&lt;br /&gt;que o simples fato de respirar. Somente a perseverança fará com que conquistemos&lt;br /&gt;um estágio esplêndido de felicidade.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16552321-112647626789201797?l=nachhause.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nachhause.blogspot.com/feeds/112647626789201797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16552321&amp;postID=112647626789201797' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16552321/posts/default/112647626789201797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16552321/posts/default/112647626789201797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nachhause.blogspot.com/2005/09/o-mestre-neruda.html' title='O mestre Neruda'/><author><name>Marianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08292586152738043739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05201085254037864675'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16552321.post-112645591659672063</id><published>2005-09-11T09:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-11T09:25:16.600-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Waltz for a night</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4373/1574/1600/11.09.05%20009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4373/1574/320/11.09.05%20009.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Waltz for a night&lt;br /&gt;Julie Delpy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me sing you a waltz&lt;br /&gt;Out of nowhere, out of my thoughts&lt;br /&gt;Let me sing you a waltz&lt;br /&gt;About this one night stand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were for me that night&lt;br /&gt;Everything I always dreamt of in life&lt;br /&gt;But now you're gone&lt;br /&gt;You are far gone&lt;br /&gt;All the way to your island of rain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was for you just a one night thing&lt;br /&gt;But you were much more to me&lt;br /&gt;Just so you know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear rumors about you&lt;br /&gt;About all the bad things you do&lt;br /&gt;But when we were together alone&lt;br /&gt;You didn't seem like a player at all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't care what they say&lt;br /&gt;I know what you meant for me that day&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted another try&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted another night&lt;br /&gt;Even if it doesn't seem quite right&lt;br /&gt;You meant for me much more&lt;br /&gt;Than anyone I've met before&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One single night with you little Jesse&lt;br /&gt;Is worth a thousand with anybody&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no bitterness, my sweet&lt;br /&gt;I'll never forget this one night thing&lt;br /&gt;Even tomorrow, another arms&lt;br /&gt;My heart will stay yours until I die&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me sing you a waltz&lt;br /&gt;Out of nowhere, out of my blues&lt;br /&gt;Let me sing you a waltz&lt;br /&gt;About this lovely one night stand&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16552321-112645591659672063?l=nachhause.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nachhause.blogspot.com/feeds/112645591659672063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16552321&amp;postID=112645591659672063' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16552321/posts/default/112645591659672063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16552321/posts/default/112645591659672063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nachhause.blogspot.com/2005/09/waltz-for-night.html' title='A Waltz for a night'/><author><name>Marianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08292586152738043739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05201085254037864675'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16552321.post-112635619362472507</id><published>2005-09-10T05:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-10T05:43:13.626-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream</title><content type='html'>São tantos os meus sonhos... Quando poderei realizá-los? Quando terei persistência e perseverança suficientes para ao menos tentar? De diplomata até guia turística de museus de arte, de fotógrafa a pianista, de mãe a decididamente desimpedida... tudo especulação, tudo fruto de uma mente ociosa? Não creio. Apenas mais alternativas, mais caminhos para a tão sonhada "bonheur".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dream&lt;br /&gt;dream&lt;br /&gt;dream&lt;br /&gt;dream&lt;br /&gt;whatever i want&lt;br /&gt;all i have to do is&lt;br /&gt;dream.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16552321-112635619362472507?l=nachhause.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nachhause.blogspot.com/feeds/112635619362472507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16552321&amp;postID=112635619362472507' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16552321/posts/default/112635619362472507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16552321/posts/default/112635619362472507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nachhause.blogspot.com/2005/09/dream.html' title='Dream'/><author><name>Marianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08292586152738043739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05201085254037864675'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16552321.post-112635478344302621</id><published>2005-09-10T05:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-10T05:20:04.310-07:00</updated><title type='text'>L´amitié</title><content type='html'>Saudades do meu querido "hermano". As brigas de quando éramos crianças, as brincadeiras e molecagens, as vezes em que ele me acobertou quando cometi algumas "contravenções"... as confidências, os passeios de família e as caminhadas à beira da praia - ah! o mar de Angra.... cinema e yakisoba, o ponto da tia nadir!!, as competições(sadias?) na piscina e fora dela, charlene..., as filmagens insanas, as conversas inacábaveis e também as inacabadas, os conselhos, a cumplicidade, a distância. Amizade inabalável. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You´ve got a friend&lt;br /&gt;James Taylor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you're down and troubled&lt;br /&gt;and you need a helping hand&lt;br /&gt;and nothing,oh, nothing is going right.&lt;br /&gt;Close your eyes and think of me&lt;br /&gt;and soon I will be there&lt;br /&gt;to brighten up even your darkest night&lt;br /&gt;you just call out my name&lt;br /&gt;and you know wherever I am&lt;br /&gt;I'll come running, oh yeah baby&lt;br /&gt;to see you again.&lt;br /&gt;Winter, spring, summer, or fall,&lt;br /&gt;all you've got to do is call&lt;br /&gt;and I'll be there, yeah, yeah, yeah.&lt;br /&gt;You've got a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the sky above you&lt;br /&gt;should turn dark and full of clouds&lt;br /&gt;and that old north wind should begin to blow&lt;br /&gt;Keep your head together and call my name out loud&lt;br /&gt;and soon I will be knocking upon your door.&lt;br /&gt;You just call out my name and you know where ever I am&lt;br /&gt;I'll come running to see you again.&lt;br /&gt;Winter, spring, summer or fall&lt;br /&gt;all you got to do is call&lt;br /&gt;and I'll be there, yeah, yeah, yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, ain't it good to know that you've got a friend?&lt;br /&gt;People can be so cold.&lt;br /&gt;They'll hurt you and desert you.&lt;br /&gt;Well they'll take your soul if you let them.&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, but don't you let them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You just call out my name and you know wherever I am&lt;br /&gt;I'll come running to see you again.&lt;br /&gt;Oh babe, don't you know that,&lt;br /&gt;Winter spring summer or fall,&lt;br /&gt;Hey now, all you've got to do is call.&lt;br /&gt;Lord, I'll be there, yes I will.&lt;br /&gt;You've got a friend.&lt;br /&gt;You've got a friend.&lt;br /&gt;Ain't it good to know you've got a friend.&lt;br /&gt;Ain't it good to know you've got a friend.&lt;br /&gt;You've got a friend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16552321-112635478344302621?l=nachhause.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nachhause.blogspot.com/feeds/112635478344302621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16552321&amp;postID=112635478344302621' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16552321/posts/default/112635478344302621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16552321/posts/default/112635478344302621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nachhause.blogspot.com/2005/09/lamiti_10.html' title='L´amitié'/><author><name>Marianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08292586152738043739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05201085254037864675'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16552321.post-112629015001289236</id><published>2005-09-09T10:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-09T11:22:30.016-07:00</updated><title type='text'>eu comigo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4373/1574/1600/insane.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4373/1574/320/insane.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sábado, noite. Cidade, cheia. Amigos, bares. Amigas, festas. Eu, comigo. Tão boa a traquilidade do meu refúgio! Ficar, deitar na cama, assistir a um filme, comer porcarias e colocar o pijama velho. Rir pelo simples fato de estar bem comigo mesma. Cansei. Ler. 30min, 1h, 1h30... já é o suficiente. Web. Dezenas fazendo o mesmo. Falei com a Bea, ri com o Caio, confessei-me com o Bruno. O sono chegou: ligar tv novamente. Meu "brilho eterno" pela enésima vez. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz............&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16552321-112629015001289236?l=nachhause.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nachhause.blogspot.com/feeds/112629015001289236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16552321&amp;postID=112629015001289236' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16552321/posts/default/112629015001289236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16552321/posts/default/112629015001289236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nachhause.blogspot.com/2005/09/eu-comigo.html' title='eu comigo'/><author><name>Marianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08292586152738043739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05201085254037864675'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16552321.post-112628649895221254</id><published>2005-09-09T10:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-09T10:21:38.953-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4373/1574/1600/Madeleine.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4373/1574/320/Madeleine.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chanson triste&lt;br /&gt;Carla Bruni&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chanson juste pour toi,&lt;br /&gt;Chanson un peu triste je crois,&lt;br /&gt;Trois temps de mots froissées,&lt;br /&gt;Quelques notes et tous mes regrets,&lt;br /&gt;Tous mes regrets de nous deux,&lt;br /&gt;Sont au bout de mes doigts,&lt;br /&gt;Comme do, ré, mi, fa, sol, la, si, do.&lt;br /&gt;C'est une chanson d'amour fané,&lt;br /&gt;Comme celle que tu fredonnais,&lt;br /&gt;Trois fois rien de nos vies,&lt;br /&gt;Trois fois rien comme cette mélodie,&lt;br /&gt;Ce qu'il reste de nous deux,&lt;br /&gt;Est au creux de ma voix,&lt;br /&gt;Comme do, ré, mi, fa, sol, la, si, do.&lt;br /&gt;C'est une chanson en souvenir&lt;br /&gt;Pour ne pas s'oublier sans rien dire&lt;br /&gt;S'oublier sans rien dire&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16552321-112628649895221254?l=nachhause.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nachhause.blogspot.com/feeds/112628649895221254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16552321&amp;postID=112628649895221254' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16552321/posts/default/112628649895221254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16552321/posts/default/112628649895221254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nachhause.blogspot.com/2005/09/chanson-triste-carla-bruni-chanson.html' title=''/><author><name>Marianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08292586152738043739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05201085254037864675'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16552321.post-112628591736304185</id><published>2005-09-09T09:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-09T10:11:57.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Le première jour</title><content type='html'>O que fazer em um momento de ociosidade e de devaneios na mente... quando nada é certo ou errado , quando princípios e orgulho são postos de lado apenas para que se tenha a liberdade de pensamento. Querer estar em nowhere e everywhere, ser um constante paradoxo ambulante. Magoar-se facilmente e chorar às escondidas. Pedir a alguém a felicidade em troca de nada. Acordar no meio da noite  e  reviver o passado pseudofeliz e obscuro. Planejar um milhão de coisas para o dia e na primeira tentativa frustrada desistir do que poderia ter sido realizado. Viver. Interromper. Naufragar. Fail  in the fisrt day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little bird&lt;br /&gt;The White Stripes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a little bird&lt;br /&gt;i'm gonna take her home&lt;br /&gt;put her in a cage&lt;br /&gt;and disconnect the phone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if you give me a look&lt;br /&gt;i'm gonna get the book&lt;br /&gt;i'm gonna preach the word&lt;br /&gt;i wanna preach to birds&lt;br /&gt;as i walk the floor&lt;br /&gt;yeah this i know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i get you home&lt;br /&gt;this is how it goes&lt;br /&gt;i got nothing to lose&lt;br /&gt;i'll never let you go&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16552321-112628591736304185?l=nachhause.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nachhause.blogspot.com/feeds/112628591736304185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16552321&amp;postID=112628591736304185' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16552321/posts/default/112628591736304185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16552321/posts/default/112628591736304185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nachhause.blogspot.com/2005/09/le-premire-jour.html' title='Le première jour'/><author><name>Marianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08292586152738043739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05201085254037864675'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry></feed>