MBarreto Condado Devaneios Literários

“Tremia por dentro. Havia algo nele que a atraia como um íman e sentia uma vontade incontrolável de se atirar nos seus braços, sentir os seus lábios. Por breves instantes, esqueceu-se do que a levara ali. Olhava-a com aqueles olhos escuros, quentes, recheados de promessas de luxúria que tão bem conhecera, ao mesmo tempo que mantinha o seu ar altivo, distante, intocável. Era senhor do seu destino e sabia-o.”
"She was shaking inside. There was something about him that attracted her like a magnet she felt an urge to throw herself into his arms, feel his lips. Briefly forgot what had brought her there. He looked at her with those dark, warm eyes, filled with lust, promises she knew so well. While he was keeping himself haughty, distant, untouchable. He was the master of his fate and he knew it. "

“Abriu a porta que julgava ser a casa de banho e deparou-se com outro quarto, muitíssimo masculino e antigo. Sentia que tinha voltado atrás no tempo, a cama tinha as mesmas dimensões da sua, mas a cobri-la estavam várias peles de animais. Também ali ardia turfa, o cheiro, era mais almiscarado, mais selvagem, as paredes estavam cobertas com armas, lanças, escudos. Sabia que não devia estar ali, mas estava fascinada com aquela decoração, parecia que tinha entrado num portal e voltara atrás no tempo, àquele local, onde vivia um grande guerreiro medieval. Sorria, perante essa ideia absurda.”
"She opened the door she thought was the bathroom and was faced with another room, extremely masculine and old. Felt like she had gone back in time, the bed was the same size as hers. The fireplace was already burning some peat, but the smell was more musky, wilder, the walls were covered with guns, spears, shields. She knew that she shouldn’t be there, but she was fascinated with that decoration,…

“Nunca ninguém a preparara para o que o destino lhe reservara, mas pior do que isso, nunca ninguém a preparara para lutar contra o seu coração e o desejo… As histórias contadas e que passavam de geração em geração pelas alunas que percorriam aqueles corredores, garantiam que quem se aventurassem por aquele caminho, nunca mais seria visto… Parecia estar à sua espera. Sentia as forças quererem abandoná-la, mas não lhe daria o prazer de a ver fraquejar.”
"No one prepared her for what her sad fate, but worse than that, no one had prepared her to fight her heart and growing desire ... The stories told passed from generation to generation by students who roamed those corridors, ensured that anyone who ventured that way, would never be seen ... he seemed to be waiting for her. she felt the strength abandoning her, but she wouldn’t give him the pleasure of seeing her weakening."

“Rhenan mantinha-se encostado à lareira a olhar para ela. Tinha colocado mais turfa, de modo, a intensificar o calor na sala, sentia-se gelado por dentro. A profecia começara e apesar de ansiar por ela há tanto tempo, neste momento não se sentia preparado para o que viria a seguir. Olhando para Maria, sentia-se impotente sem saber o que fazer. Passou as mãos pelo cabelo, e bebeu o resto de whisky que preparara de um só trago.”
"Rhenan stood leaning against the fireplace looking at her. He had put more peat in order to intensify the heat in the room but was still felling that strange cold. He knew that the prophecy began and despite craving for it for so long and now looking at her standing there in front of him he knew that he was not prepared for what came next. He felt powerless without knowing what to do. Ran his hands through his hair, and drank the rest of the whiskey. "

“Agora se não te importas de sair desse teu marasmo saudosista, vamos que eu estou cheia de fome e já conheces as Irmãs, odeiam atrasos… – Recorte? Que recorte? – olhava para o pedaço de papel que ainda segurava entre as mãos – Esse papelinho que ai tens? Não fui eu… Uma sombra mexeu-se no corredor, escondendo-se por detrás de uma das esquinas enquanto as via afastarem-se. Tinha ouvido a conversa através da porta entreaberta. Franziu o sobrolho suspirando audivelmente, julgava saber quem lhe teria deixado ali aquele recorte, só não percebia porquê.”
"Now if you do not mind getting out of that nostalgic doldrums, let's go I'm starving and you already know the sisters, hate delays ... - Paper? What paper? – she kept looking at the piece of paper she still held in her hands - That piece of paper that your grabbing? It was not me ... A shadow moved in the hallway, hiding behind one corner. Had heard the conversation through the open door. Frowned sighing audibly, thought she…

“O carro percorria a distância que separava Dublin de Glendalough por entre o verde das montanhas, os imensos campos de turfa e o tão tradicional meio rural pejado de ovelhas pastando livremente. Ali o passado e o presente continuavam a misturar-se.”
"The car covers the distance between Dublin Glendalough through the green mountains, the peat fields and the traditional sheep grazing freely. Here the past and the present continued to mix it all up."