quarta-feira, 13 de abril de 2011

CORRENTE CONTÍNUA


                    C O R R E N T E    C O N T Í N U A



Na ponta de lá,
Estrondo-volume,
Na ponta de cá,
O brilho do lume.
                             No pulso que passa,
                             Contínua corrente,
                             O pulso já passa,
                             ‘tá frio ou ´tá quente.
                                                               No dia na casa,
                                                               Pulsando premente,
                                                               No dia da casa,
                                                               É sangue fervente.
                                                                                             Já move o inerte,
                                                                                             Mistura, tritura,
                                                                                             Remove e repete,
                                                                                             Prepara e apura.
Num clique já sai
E o escuro está claro,
Num clique se esvai
‘tá duro, ‘tá caro.
                                 Se liga e acende,
                                 Janela de sol;
                                 Desliga e arrepende,
                                 Sua luz é farol.
                                                                 No ponto de luz,
                                                                 Energia vivente,
                                                                 À noite traduz
                                                                 O dia p’ra gente.
                                                                                            Ali na parede
                                                                                            Ao alcance da mão,
                                                                                            Elétrica rede,
                                                                                            É sim ou é não.
Os fios na rua
Do poste energia,
Certeza é crua,
A vida recria
                        Dia após dia
                        E noite também,
                        Na luta ou folia,
                        Nem mal e nem bem.
                                                          Noite após noite
                                                          E o dia é refém,
                                                          Sufôco e açoite,
                                                          Tem mal e tem bem.
                                                                                           Na ponta de cá,
                                                                                           Suor e ardume,
                                                                                           Na ponta de lá,
                                                                                           Só faca sem gume.
CPN,04/02/1999 –MARCOS RS RAMASCO.

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