<?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' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11438291</id><updated>2011-04-21T20:45:52.860-07:00</updated><title type='text'>JoVi</title><subtitle type='html'>Se não tens tudo o que queres, luta e não te canses de lutar. Um dia terás o sabor da Vitória</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jovite.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11438291/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jovite.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>JoVi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624064173621831054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>6</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11438291.post-116502362733926467</id><published>2006-12-01T17:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-01T19:22:22.040-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tributo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;O sol acordara mórbido;&lt;br /&gt;As flores contrastam no luto que se faz sentir.&lt;br /&gt;O sinal do Adeus é dado pelo sino que toca compassadamente.&lt;br /&gt;Uma Lágrima solta-se, tocando noutra que já antes escorrera...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O lamento, a dor, a saudade vão apertando cada vez mais formando um nó.&lt;br /&gt;O pranto desabára na terra do Adeus...&lt;br /&gt;No Adeus...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A realidade vai pesando a cada minuto que passa.&lt;br /&gt;Solta-se um pedaço de mim.&lt;br /&gt;Talvez ainda não acredite.&lt;br /&gt;Ou será que na realidade ainda não partis-te?&lt;br /&gt;Á minha frente, alguem de quem amo, grita já sem forças...&lt;br /&gt;Esse grito era um terno Adeus...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O Adeus...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Para ti, aqui fica a despedida da forma mais pura e profunda que já alguma vez senti. A despedida entoada pelas cordas da Guitarra Portuguesa. Aquela que um dia ousei cantar, num coro de vozes como assim manda a tradição.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sentes que um tempo acabou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Primavera da flor adormecida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Qualquer coisa que não volta, que voou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;E foi um triunfar na tua Vida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;E levas em ti guardado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Um choro de um balada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Recordações do passado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;O bater da velha cabra.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Capa negra de Saudade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;No momento da partida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Segredos desta cidade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Levo comigo para a Vida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Tu sabes que desenho do adeus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;É fogo que nos queima devagar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;E no lento cerrar dos olhos teus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Fica a esperança de um dia aqui voltar."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Balada de Despedida do 5º ano Jurídico de 88/89&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;wetretreetretetrtretetretetetrertet&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11438291-116502362733926467?l=jovite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jovite.blogspot.com/feeds/116502362733926467/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11438291&amp;postID=116502362733926467' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11438291/posts/default/116502362733926467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11438291/posts/default/116502362733926467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jovite.blogspot.com/2006/12/tributo.html' title='Tributo'/><author><name>JoVi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624064173621831054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11438291.post-116489258112502609</id><published>2006-11-30T04:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-01T19:31:13.300-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Verdes Anos</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;São Histórias, são recordações.&lt;br /&gt;São palavras que saem sem se dizer...&lt;br /&gt;É um pedaço de nós que o presente nos leva...&lt;br /&gt;É o vento que leva mas tambem traz...&lt;br /&gt;É o sol que se encobre nas entranhas das nuvens.&lt;br /&gt;É o ficar mais pobre...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acordo com a triste notícia...&lt;br /&gt;Horas antes, cá dentro, a força e a esperança que necessitavas para viver...&lt;br /&gt;Tal não acontecera...&lt;br /&gt;Ouço agora vezes sem conta, a musica que ficará para sempre...&lt;br /&gt;Aquele grito sonante da guitarra Portuguesa.&lt;br /&gt;A musica que um dia disse ser tua...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Carlos Paredes&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;Verdes Anos&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;wetretreetretetrtretetretetetrertet&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11438291-116489258112502609?l=jovite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jovite.blogspot.com/feeds/116489258112502609/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11438291&amp;postID=116489258112502609' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11438291/posts/default/116489258112502609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11438291/posts/default/116489258112502609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jovite.blogspot.com/2006/11/verdes-anos.html' title='Verdes Anos'/><author><name>JoVi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624064173621831054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11438291.post-113954225020473188</id><published>2006-02-09T19:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-09T19:51:24.866-08:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/198/4127/320/bestida.jpg"&gt;&lt;img class="phostImg" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/198/4127/400/bestida.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Podem ser bonitas ou indiferentes, colam-se na solidão, no trabalho e na vida. As vezes servem para seduzir, dedicar e pedir... Servem para rir, para recordar e para o esquecimento. Lutam para conquistar a amizade, outras vezes para reclamar a vingança. Podem estar em frases profundas, atrevidas, lindas, antológicas... mas são:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;São só... Apenas palavras...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;wetretreetretetrtretetretetetrertet&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11438291-113954225020473188?l=jovite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jovite.blogspot.com/feeds/113954225020473188/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11438291&amp;postID=113954225020473188' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11438291/posts/default/113954225020473188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11438291/posts/default/113954225020473188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jovite.blogspot.com/2006/02/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>JoVi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624064173621831054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11438291.post-113337462542539725</id><published>2005-11-30T10:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-01T18:57:17.486-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sentimentos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/198/4127/320/Pedro%20Gomes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img class="phostImg" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/198/4127/400/Pedro%20Gomes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sentimentos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O sentimento é algo profundo, uma simples paisagem, um simples cheiro ou até uma simples musica... marcam momentos, marcam sentimentos, marcam tristezas que muitas vezes se resumem ao não puder lá voltar.&lt;br /&gt;Falo do que deixou saudade, não do que foi inócuo ou degradante de recordar, porque isso, não terá lugar na nostalgia que sinto das recordações do passado.&lt;br /&gt;O sentir é algo com uma dimensão superior, pois quantificar um sentimento jamais poderá ser feito por alguem...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;wetretreetretetrtretetretetetrertet&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11438291-113337462542539725?l=jovite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jovite.blogspot.com/feeds/113337462542539725/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11438291&amp;postID=113337462542539725' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11438291/posts/default/113337462542539725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11438291/posts/default/113337462542539725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jovite.blogspot.com/2005/11/sentimentos.html' title='Sentimentos'/><author><name>JoVi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624064173621831054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11438291.post-111686538612769124</id><published>2005-05-23T09:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T12:41:44.816-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Coimbra Sempre Eterna</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3937/928/1600/coimbra.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="202" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3937/928/320/coimbra.jpg" width="400" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/198/4127/640/coimbra_top_r3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img class="phostImg" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/198/4127/400/coimbra_top_r1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Coimbra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ficará sempre na memória tão só porque não dá para esquecer.&lt;br /&gt;Vive-se algo inesquecivel nesta cidade, para mim a cidade das sensações, aquela que um dia me viu nascer. Aquela que nela... tem pedaços de mim... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Coimbra do Choupal,&lt;br /&gt;Ainda és capital&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Do amor em Portugal,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ainda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Coimbra, onde uma vez, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Com lágrimas se fez &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A história dessa Inês&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Tão linda!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Coimbra das canções,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Tão meiga que nos pões&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Os nossos corações&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A nu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Coimbra dos doutores,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;P'ra nós os teus cantores&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A fonte dos amores&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;És tu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coimbra é uma lição&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De sonho e tradição&lt;br /&gt;O lente é uma canção&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E a lua a faculdade &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O livro é uma mulher&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Só passa quem souber&lt;br /&gt;aprende-se a dizer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saudade. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;wetretreetretetrtretetretetetrertet&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11438291-111686538612769124?l=jovite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jovite.blogspot.com/feeds/111686538612769124/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11438291&amp;postID=111686538612769124' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11438291/posts/default/111686538612769124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11438291/posts/default/111686538612769124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jovite.blogspot.com/2005/05/coimbra-sempre-eterna.html' title='Coimbra Sempre Eterna'/><author><name>JoVi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624064173621831054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11438291.post-111189451715101240</id><published>2005-03-26T19:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-06-14T18:32:11.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Saudade</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/198/4127/640/ai.jpg"&gt;&lt;img class="phostImg" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/198/4127/320/ai.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Procuro aquilo que todo homem procura: paz e tranquilidade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tenho saudade dos tempos de pequeno, sim... porquê? Ya Saudade!!!&lt;br /&gt;Gostava de entrar na maquina do tempo e viver factos passados, histórias perdidas, coisas vividas, tempos distantes...&lt;br /&gt;Tenho saudade de não sentir o sentimento aquele que tantas vezes nos atormenta mas outras nos alimenta.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;wetretreetretetrtretetretetetrertet&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11438291-111189451715101240?l=jovite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jovite.blogspot.com/feeds/111189451715101240/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11438291&amp;postID=111189451715101240' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11438291/posts/default/111189451715101240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11438291/posts/default/111189451715101240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jovite.blogspot.com/2005/03/saudade.html' title='Saudade'/><author><name>JoVi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624064173621831054</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
