Translate

domingo, 23 de março de 2014

   Na aula de português de quarta feira, dia 10 de março de 2014, estivemos a selecionar poemas para dar a conhecer os poetas Luísa Ducla Soares e Manuel Couto Viana.
   De Luísa Ducla Soares selecionamos os seguintes poemas:
                                               
                                                       O Testamento do Gato
                                                      
                                                       Ai, se eu um dia morrer                  
                                                       Não quero ser enterrado
                                                       Hei de ficar ao solinho
                                                       em cima do meu telhado


                                                       Levem-me três carapaus
                                                       E um pratito de leite
                                                       Comer bons petiscos
                                                       É o meu grande deleite

                                                        
                                                       Convidem três gatas pretas
                                                       Com unhas bem afiadas
                                                       Pois mesmo depois de morto
                                                       preciso de namoradas.


                                                       Ai, se eu um dia morrer
                                                       Não me façam despedidas
                                                       Eu volto sempre de novo
                                                       Que um gato tem sete vidas.



                                                           Casamento

                                                       Casei um cigarro
                                                       Com uma cigarra
                                                       Fizeram os dois
                                                       Tremenda algazarra

                                                     
                                                       Porque o cigarro
                                                       Não sabe cantar
                                                       E a cigarra
                                                       Detesta fumar


                                                       Não digam que casei
                                                       ( mania antipática !)
                                                       Só cumpri a lei
                                                       Que manda a gramática.
                                              

                                                         Viva o desmazelo

                                                        Viva o Desmazelo:
                                                        A roupa no chão,
                                                        Os livros na cama,
                                                        No sofá o cão,
                                                        As meias furadas,
                                                        No forno os sapatos,
                                                        Na pasta o pijama,
                                                        À mesa seis gatos,
                                                        Caderno sem folhas,
                                                        Tinta na carpete,
                                                        Espetado num bolo
                                                        Está o canivete.

                                                        Mas onde é que pus
                                                        Todo o meu dinheiro?
                                                        Ai foi pelo cano
                                                        Estava no banheiro....


 De Manuel Couto Viana selecionamos o seguinte poema:


                                                         A galinha engripada           

                                                          A Galinha,
                                                          coitadinha
                                                          tem sintomas graves
                                                          de gripe das aves                          
                                                          Não canta: está rouca,
                                                          e cobre-se de roupa.
                                                          Hora a hora, espirra
                                                          (irra),(irra),(irra).
                                                          Fala à sobreposse.
                                                          (tosse),(tosse),(tosse).
                                                          Tão doente fica
                                                          que nem depenica.
                                                          Anda o galinheiro
                                                          num grande berreiro,
                                                          temendo que ela
                                                          lhe pegue a mazela.
                                                          Médico afamado,
                                                          o Mocho é chamado
                                                          pra dar a sentença.
                                                          Todo empertigado,
                                                           diz que essa doença
                                                           é só resfriado:
                                                           nada que não vença
                                                           um xarope doce
                                                           que alivie a tosse
                                                           e a rouquidão.
                                                           - "Tome não hesite,
                                                           que traz o apetite,
                                                           pró milho e pró pão.
                                                           E coma a minhoca
                                                           que não a sufoca
                                                           Mas tenha cuidado
                                                           com o agasalho"
                                                           - disse o Mocho inchado.
                                                           E voltou ao galho.
                                                           Passaram uns dias
                                                           sem tosse e agonias,
                                                           Cacaracacá!
                                                           a Galinha já
                                                           põe ovos e canta.
                                                           Tão limpa a garganta!
                                                            A saúde é tanta
                                                            que a todos espanta.
                                                            O Mocho do galho
                                                            fez um bom trabalho.                 
                                                                          

quinta-feira, 13 de março de 2014

   Na aula de português do dia 14 de março de 2014, estivemos a ler « A verdadeira história da batalha de S. Mamede»,  um texto dramático.
    Achei a história muito engraçada, porque lá dizia que o verdadeiro motivo da batalha era o facto do Afonsinho ( D. Afonso Henriques) não querer comer a sopa.

quarta-feira, 12 de março de 2014

Na aula de português de segunda feira, ( dia 10 de março de 2014), alguns alunos da nossa turma estiveram a procurar alguns poemas de livros de Luísa Ducla Soares e de Manuel Couto Viana. Eu encontrei os seguintes poemas:

                                                        Peru velho
                                                        Quer casar
                                                        Não tem mulher,
                                                        Deita-se ao mar
                                                        Glu-glu-glu...
                                                                                                                         

                                                          

                                                         Joaninha, voa, voa,
                                                         Que o teu pai foi a Lisboa,                             
                                                         A tua mãe está no Minho
                                                         A comer pão com toucinho


                                                        O cão e a Pulga


                                                        - Ó Senhora Dona Pulga,
                                                        quem é que você se julga?
                                                                                                                     
                                                        - Sou um bicho superior
                                                        e o maior caçador.
                                                        Já o cace, Senhor Cão,
                                                        vou  provar a refeição.


                                                         Os quatro elementos

                                                          És da Terra,
                                                          Crescem papoilas
                                                          Nos teus lábios.

                                                          És da Água,                                 
                                                          Nadam peixes
                                                          Nos teus olhos.

                                                          És do fogo,
                                                          Ardem chamas
                                                          No teu coração.

                                                          És do Ar,
                                                          Em ti voam os pardais
                                                          Da liberdade.