B E B E R E

Awful tension headache this morning. Or is it allergies? I really can't tell anymore. My eyes are gummy, ich fuehle mich ein bisschen verschlucht...but my jaws are aching, my neck is stiff and my shoulders hurt. Is work causing me to start grinding my teeth again? Advil time. Seems to work better (and not bother the tum so much) if I take it with the morning caffeine dose.

On a good note, however, I did wake up with a very beautiful, raunchy, fun song in my head:

Caçada

Não conheço seu nome
ou paradeiro
Adivinho seu rastro e cheiro
Vou armado de dentes e coragem
Vou morder sua carne selvagem
Varo a noite sem cochilar, aflito
Amanheço imitando o seu grito
Me aproximo rondando a sua toca
E ao me ver você me provoca
Você canta a sua agonia louca
Água me borbulha na boca
Minha presa rugindo sua raça
Pernas se debatendo e o seu fervor
Hoje é o dia de graça
Hoje é o dia da caça
e do caçador

Eu me espicho no espaço
feito um gato
Pra pegar você, bicho do mato
Saciar a sua avidez mestiça
Que ao me ver se encolhe
e me atiça
Que num mesmo impulso
me expulsa e abraça
Nossas peles grudando de suor
Hoje é o dia de graça
Hoje é o dia da caça
e do caçador

De tocaia fico e espreitar a fera
Logo dou-lhe o bote certeiro
Já conheço seu dorso de gazela
Cavalo brabo montado em pelo
Dominante, não
se desembaraça
Ofegante, é dona do seu senhor
Hoje é o dia da graça
Hoje é o dia da caça
e do caçador

Hunting Trip

I don't know your name
or whereabouts
I guess your trail and smell
I set out armed with teeth and courage
I'm going to bite your savage flesh
I cross the night restless and troubled
And wake up imitating your cry
I get closer to your burrow
And when you see me you taunt me
You sing your crazy pain
Water bubbles in my mouth
My prisoner bellowing her race
Legs debating each other and her fervor
Today is the day of grace
Today is the day of the hunt
and the hunter

I stretch out in space
like a cat
To catch you, animal of the wild
To satisfy your half breed eagerness
Which, when it sees me, huddles
and provokes me
And in the same impulse
expels and embraces me
Our skins stick together with sweat
Today is the day of grace
Today is the day of the hunt
and the hunter

From an ambush I spy on the beast
Soon I'll strike an accurate blow
I already know your gazelle torso
Angry horse mounted bareback
Dominating, she doesn't
lose her inhibitions
Breathless, she is mistress of her master
Today is the day of grace
Today is the day of the hunt
and the hunter

-Chico Buarque

(Listening to it now as I write.)

Interesting bit of trivia on Buarque: his grandfather was the Brazilian "Webster" in that he conceived the first strictly Brazilian Portuguese dictionary.
Wordsmithing evidently ran in the family.

***

Oh my word! Would you believe that the headache's all but gone away now?
Amazing what a little rythmic music about encounters with wild women will do for you.