<?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-30692872</id><updated>2012-01-06T20:15:46.071Z</updated><title type='text'>Fadistices</title><subtitle type='html'>Fado - Música tradicional portuguesa por excelência.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>72</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-1083642759380682601</id><published>2009-10-28T12:13:00.008Z</published><updated>2009-10-28T23:59:23.731Z</updated><title type='text'>FM069 - Um Copo, Mais Um Copo (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Um Copo, Mais Um Copo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desde que tu partiste,&lt;br /&gt;Perdi a felicidade&lt;br /&gt;E p'ra que ninguém veja,&lt;br /&gt;Sinais do meu tormento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sózinho vou matando,&lt;br /&gt;Toda a minha saudade&lt;br /&gt;Entre as quatro paredes,&lt;br /&gt;Do nosso apartamento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um copo, mais um copo&lt;br /&gt;Um cinzeiro já cheio&lt;br /&gt;De pontas de cigarro&lt;br /&gt;Uma velha moldura&lt;br /&gt;Lembrando a tua imagem&lt;br /&gt;E a dor a que me agarro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um copo, mais um copo&lt;br /&gt;Uma canção de amor&lt;br /&gt;E fumaças sem fim&lt;br /&gt;É tudo o que me resta,&lt;br /&gt;É tudo que ficou&lt;br /&gt;De ti... de nós... de mim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Errante p'la cidade,&lt;br /&gt;Alheio á multidão&lt;br /&gt;Fugindo dos amigos&lt;br /&gt;Vou caminhando a esmo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os dias são iguais,&lt;br /&gt;As horas iguais são&lt;br /&gt;E quando a noite chega,&lt;br /&gt;O fim, é sempre o mesmo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fernando Farinha&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-1083642759380682601?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/1083642759380682601/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=1083642759380682601' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/1083642759380682601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/1083642759380682601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2009/10/fm69-um-copo-mais-um-copo.html' title='FM069 - Um Copo, Mais Um Copo (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-5944289053464021646</id><published>2009-02-07T22:58:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-02-07T23:01:34.650Z</updated><title type='text'>Esclarecimento</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CJVeiga%5CDEFINI%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:595.3pt 841.9pt; 	margin:70.85pt 3.0cm 2.0cm 3.0cm; 	mso-header-margin:35.45pt; 	mso-footer-margin:35.45pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Serve o presente post para comunicar a todos os que lêem este blog, que as letras nele transcritas são as palavras ditas (aquilo que ouço) pela boca de quem as canta e que me limito também a transcrever das capas de discos, cassetes e cd´s os seus autores, daí não ter qualquer responsabilidade pela veracidade do que a editora escreveu.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Penso que já deveria de ter feito esta comunicação, mas falta-me tempo para actualizar o blog.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Agradeço a todos os que me corrigiram e prometo a sua correcção para breve.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-5944289053464021646?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/5944289053464021646/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=5944289053464021646' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/5944289053464021646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/5944289053464021646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2009/02/esclarecimento.html' title='Esclarecimento'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-2394097027869710151</id><published>2007-02-25T00:44:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-02-18T09:41:31.013Z</updated><title type='text'>FM068 - Esta Noite Não (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:22;"&gt;Esta Noite Não&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amanhã quando acordar&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;Poderei, ser coisa pouca&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Ou talvez, traço de boca&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Ainda por desenhar&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ser algo entre os escolhos&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;Que se procura salvar&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Ou então ser dos teus olhos&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Um jeito triste de olhar&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poderei ser folha morta&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;Sem nunca tombar ao chão&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Ou trinco velho de porta&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Que só abre à tua mão&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poderei ser a razão&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;Dum poema feito a esmo&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;Porém esta noite não&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;Porque ainda sou o mesmo&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9;"&gt;Fado Amora – (Jorge Fernando – &lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Armandinho &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Joaquim Campos&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; [correcção J. Almeida]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-2394097027869710151?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/2394097027869710151/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=2394097027869710151' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/2394097027869710151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/2394097027869710151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2007/02/fm068-esta-noite-no-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM068 - Esta Noite Não (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-2659669405603889304</id><published>2007-02-25T00:40:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-25T00:42:27.311Z</updated><title type='text'>FM067 - Alma Do Ribatejo (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 22pt;"&gt;Alma Do Ribatejo&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ribatejo é aguarela, que deus criou com amor&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;É de todas a mais bela, pintada plo criador&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;A campina lá do céu, de sacrifício e de glória&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Onde um campino escreveu, a sua história sem história&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;O campino assim que o sol aparece&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Erguendo ao céu uma prece, montado em seu alazão&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;É o arauto do eterno labutar&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;De quem procura encontrar, a certeza de seu pão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;E a campina imensa a perder de vista&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Vencida pela conquista, do homem rude e valente&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;É o hino que a natureza criou&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;E que o campino gravou, no seu peito eternamente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Tem a campina um segredo, uma epopeia sagrada&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Homens que lutam sem medo, e que dão tudo por nada&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;O segredo do valor, do homem simples e são&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Que conquista sem temor, a terra, a vida e o pão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;(Romeira Alves – J. Fontes)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-2659669405603889304?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/2659669405603889304/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=2659669405603889304' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/2659669405603889304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/2659669405603889304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2007/02/fm067-alma-do-ribatejo-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM067 - Alma Do Ribatejo (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-142706818739473910</id><published>2007-02-25T00:31:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-02-18T09:39:35.513Z</updated><title type='text'>FM066 - Fado Sem Nome (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:22;"&gt;Fado Sem Nome&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ouvi um fado sem nome, Numa voz entristecida&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Não sei porquê recordou-me, O fado da tua vida&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foi na velha Mouraria, Em certa noite distante&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Como soluço de amante, Uma guitarra gemia&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desventura, nostalgia, Ciúme, pecado, dor&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Saudade, tristeza, amor, Tudo dessa tua voz saía&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E quanto um fado podia, Fazer lembrar-me de ti&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Uma saudade senti, Doutra saudade morria&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque esse fado sem nome, Sem adeus na despedida&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;De tão triste recordou-me, O fado da tua vida&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9;"&gt;Fado Carlos Damaia 4ª&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = st1 /&gt;&lt;st1:personname st="on" productid="s (Carlos"&gt;s (Carlos&lt;/st1:personname&gt; da Maia - Moita Girão)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-142706818739473910?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/142706818739473910/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=142706818739473910' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/142706818739473910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/142706818739473910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2007/02/fm066-fado-sem-nome-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM066 - Fado Sem Nome (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-3565240153925764054</id><published>2007-02-25T00:24:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-25T00:25:22.836Z</updated><title type='text'>FM065 - Tudo Acabou (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 22pt;"&gt;Tudo Acabou&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desde que te ouvi dizendo&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Que sentimento em revolta&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Adeus amor acabou-se&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Os anos foram correndo&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;O mundo deu muita volta&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;E a vida modificou-se&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Ainda trago comigo&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Aquela cruz que me deste&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Tudo o que guardo de ti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Cruz que tem sido o castigo&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;A lembrar-me que esqueceste&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Tanta jura que te eu ouvi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Não sei onde estás agora&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Nem sei se vives ainda&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Ou se Deus já te levou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Eu sigo pla vida fora&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Sentindo a saudade infinda&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Dum amor que se acabou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;Marcha do Marceneiro – (Alfredo Marceneiro - Moita Girão&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-3565240153925764054?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/3565240153925764054/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=3565240153925764054' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/3565240153925764054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/3565240153925764054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2007/02/fm065-tudo-acabou-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM065 - Tudo Acabou (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-8549675575712830808</id><published>2007-02-23T01:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-23T01:10:01.887Z</updated><title type='text'>FM064 - Brinquedo De Infância (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 22pt;"&gt;Brinquedo De Infância&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 8pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tive um brinquedo em menino&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Julgo que ninguém mo deu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Um cavalo pequenino&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Mas era somente meu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Não sei se foi minha mãe&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Que esse cavalo me deu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Não sei até se o achei&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Mas o cavalo era meu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Eu cavalgava corria&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;O meu cavalo correu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;E que feliz me sentia&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Porque o brinquedo era meu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Hoje adulto já não conto&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Em voltar a ser petiz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Mas em sonho ainda monto&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;O meu cavalo e sou feliz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;Fado Alfacinha – (Jaime Santos - Mário Raínho)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-8549675575712830808?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/8549675575712830808/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=8549675575712830808' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/8549675575712830808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/8549675575712830808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2007/02/fm064-brinquedo-de-infncia-fernando.html' title='FM064 - Brinquedo De Infância (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-6284923208380207870</id><published>2007-02-23T00:57:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-23T00:59:56.753Z</updated><title type='text'>FM063 - Vem Comigo (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 22pt;"&gt;Vem Comigo&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vem daí anda comigo, numa tipóia a meu lado&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;E verás como consigo, recordar tempo passado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Este favor que te peço, podes crer não é vaidade&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Mas sim a grande saudade, do que mais gosto, confesso&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;É porque eu dou grande apreço, aos retiros do passado&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Toiradas, esperas de gado, a tudo o que seja antigo&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Vem daí anda comigo, numa tipóia a meu lado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Vamos ao Perna de Pau, ao Charquinho, ao Quebra-Bilhas&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;E também às maravilhas, do Caliça e Bacalhau&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;E no Retiro do Calhau, cantarei pra ti um fado&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Vigoroso, afadistado, um fado que te não digo&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;E verás como eu consigo, recordar tempo passado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;Fado Dois Tons – (Júlio Vieitas – Popular)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-6284923208380207870?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/6284923208380207870/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=6284923208380207870' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/6284923208380207870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/6284923208380207870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2007/02/fm063-vem-comigo-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM063 - Vem Comigo (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-4362138446968215448</id><published>2007-02-23T00:46:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-23T00:48:02.630Z</updated><title type='text'>FM062 - Sedento De Ti (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 22pt;"&gt;Sedento De Ti&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sedento de ti, amor&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Fiz destes versos ternura&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Como quem gera uma flor&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Num campo de pedra dura&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Sedento de ti, amor&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Do corpo que me oferecias&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Onde voguei ao sabor&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Das marés que me trazias&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Sedento de ti, amor&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Andei na neve dos sonhos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Num trenó feito de dor&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Puxado por cães medonhos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Sedento de ti, amor&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Encontrei abandonado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Embriagado na dor&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Do teu fado que é meu fado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Fado Vianinha – (Jorge Fernando – Francisco Viana)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-4362138446968215448?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/4362138446968215448/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=4362138446968215448' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/4362138446968215448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/4362138446968215448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2007/02/fm062-sedento-de-ti-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM062 - Sedento De Ti (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-3128488108019672232</id><published>2007-02-23T00:34:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-23T00:35:35.284Z</updated><title type='text'>FM061 - Meia-Noite (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 22pt;"&gt;Meia-Noite&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É meia-noite bem sei, meia-noite é meia vida&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Meia vida que gastei, em meia-noite perdida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Não me fales mais da hora, tão tardia a que voltei&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Perdi o tempo lá fora, é meia-noite bem sei&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Se esta vida são dois dias, verdade não desmentida&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Para maiores arrelias, meia-noite é meia vida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Ficarás mais consolada, do desgosto que te dei&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Sabendo desperdiçada, meia vida que gastei&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Eu juro se fizer jeito, à tua alma sentida&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Não tirei nenhum proveito, em meia-noite perdida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Filipe Pinto / Conde Sobral&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-3128488108019672232?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/3128488108019672232/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=3128488108019672232' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/3128488108019672232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/3128488108019672232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2007/02/fm061-meia-noite-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM061 - Meia-Noite (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-1634997154676447652</id><published>2007-02-23T00:24:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-02-18T09:37:17.639Z</updated><title type='text'>FM060 - Quinze Primaveras (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:22;"&gt;Quinze Primaveras&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tinhas sorrisos em flor&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;Uns lábios de rubra cor&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;Como se fossem romãs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;No olhar tinhas virtude&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;E na tua juventude&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;A frescura das manhãs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;Nos teus cabelos ao vento&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;Searas aonde o tempo&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;Pôs leve toque dourado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Passearam os meus dedos&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Com carícias e segredos&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;E um mimo mais ousado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;Ai meu amor, que saudade&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;Dessa tua mocidade&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;Desse tempo de quimeras&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Tinhas sorrisos em flor&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Uns lábios de rubra cor&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;E umas quinze primaveras&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fado Primavera - (Mário Raínho – &lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;F. Freitas &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Pedro Rodrigues&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;[correcção Anónimo]&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-1634997154676447652?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/1634997154676447652/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=1634997154676447652' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/1634997154676447652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/1634997154676447652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2007/02/fm060-quinze-primaveras-fernando.html' title='FM060 - Quinze Primaveras (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-7699530447328687039</id><published>2007-02-23T00:03:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-02-18T00:37:57.304Z</updated><title type='text'>FM059 - Conta De Beijos (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:22;"&gt;Conta De Beijos&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dos beijos que tu me deste, e dos beijos que eu te dei&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Diz se a conta já fizeste, porque fazê-la não sei&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Já tenho a cabeça tonta, não há soma que me reste&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Ao tentar fazer a conta, dos beijos que tu me deste&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Fiz várias contas sem fim, somei os que me lembrei&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Dos que tu me deste a mim, e dos beijos que eu te dei&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Mas como fiquei incerto, se ainda não te esqueceste&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Para eu saber ao certo, diz se a conta já fizeste&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Eram estes os meus desejos, mas como não acertei&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Faz tu a conta dos beijos, porque fazê-la não sei&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9;"&gt;Fado Puchavante – (&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Júlio Proença&lt;/span&gt; D.R.&lt;/span&gt; - J. Pinto) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;[correcção Anónimo]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-7699530447328687039?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/7699530447328687039/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=7699530447328687039' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/7699530447328687039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/7699530447328687039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2007/02/fm059-conta-de-beijos-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM059 - Conta De Beijos (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-7529741530264285692</id><published>2007-02-22T23:51:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-22T23:53:22.845Z</updated><title type='text'>FM058 - Testamento Fadista (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 22pt;"&gt;Testamento Fadista&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 8pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meus amigos, meus irmãos&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Companheiros da aventura&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Das minhas noites fadistas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Já não tenho em minhas mãos&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Essa lúcida loucura&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;De lutas e de conquistas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;A vida passa a correr&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Os anos vão-se somando&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;E nós seguimos sorrindo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Fingindo não estar a ver&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;O cabelo branqueando&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;E a mocidade fugindo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Mas no dia em que partir&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Não levo comigo o tormento&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Porque não vos deixo sós&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Parto com a alma a sorrir&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Deixando por testamento&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Minha voz pra todos vós&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;Fado Cigano – (Mário Raínho – D. R.)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-7529741530264285692?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/7529741530264285692/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=7529741530264285692' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/7529741530264285692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/7529741530264285692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2007/02/fm058-testamento-fadista-fernando.html' title='FM058 - Testamento Fadista (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-6804698355401967157</id><published>2007-02-22T21:29:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-02-18T00:35:19.590Z</updated><title type='text'>FM057 - Bairro Eterno (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:22;"&gt;Bairro Eterno&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Lisboa dona airosa, Que fizeste à Mouraria&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Que anda triste e desgostosa, A soluçar noite e dia&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Oh Lisboa dona airosa, Que fizeste à Mouraria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Coitada pobre velhinha, Decerto foste ofendida&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Perdeste a graça que tinhas, Estás muito mais abatida&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Perdeste a graça que tinhas, Estás muito mais abatida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Se era essa a tua sina, Não te queixes de Lisboa&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Querias ser sempre menina, Mas o tempo não perdoa&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Querias ser sempre menina, Mas o tempo não perdoa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Hás-de passar a ser moderna, Ter mais cor mais fantasia&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Sem deixares de ser eterna, Mouraria, Mouraria&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Sem deixares de ser eterna, Mouraria, Mouraria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;E numa prece singela, Pra que seu nome não mude&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Fadistas rezai por ela, À Senhora da Saúde&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Fadistas rezai por ela, À Senhora da Saúde&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9;"&gt;Fado &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;Zé António&lt;/span&gt; Pechincha - (D.R. - Júlio Vieitas) [Correcção Anónimo]&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-6804698355401967157?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/6804698355401967157/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=6804698355401967157' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/6804698355401967157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/6804698355401967157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2007/02/fm057-bairro-eterno-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM057 - Bairro Eterno (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-5850150263491738708</id><published>2007-02-22T20:19:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-22T20:36:19.691Z</updated><title type='text'>FM056 - Irmão Da Juventude (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 22pt;"&gt;Irmão Da Juventude&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nascemos na mesma rua&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Chutámos a mesma bola&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Passámos a mesma fome&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;A minha fome era a sua&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Nem sequer fomos à escola&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Crescemos os dois sem nome&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Unidos fomos à moina&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Foi a fruta, foi o pão&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;E outras coisas que havia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Andámos juntos na estroina&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Malandros até mais não&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;No bairro da Mouraria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Hoje temos outra idade&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;O passado é já distância&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;E a vida não nos ilude&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Mas tenho de ti saudade&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Ó meu amigo de infância&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Meu irmão da juventude&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;(Mário Raínho – Victor Daniel)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-5850150263491738708?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/5850150263491738708/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=5850150263491738708' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/5850150263491738708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/5850150263491738708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2007/02/fm056-irmo-da-juventude-fernando.html' title='FM056 - Irmão Da Juventude (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-2909699521789819815</id><published>2007-02-22T19:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-22T20:18:50.121Z</updated><title type='text'>FM055 - Diz-me Mãe (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 22pt;"&gt;Diz-me Mãe&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tu não tens culpa mãe, de eu ser só isto&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Havia dois caminhos, do diabo e de Cristo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Um terceiro inventei e nele me perdi&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Então criei sozinho um outro mundo, tão belo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Tão perfeito como a curva suave do teu peito, que não vi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Mãe quero ser pequenino, que os meus primeiros passos&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Sejam iguais aos do menino saído dos teus braços, sem ambição&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Tu não tens culpa mãe, de eu ser só isto, perdão&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Diz-me, diz-me, minha mãe&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Na tristeza desta hora&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Quantas dores eu te custei&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;E te dei pla vida fora&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Diz-me, se quando dormia&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Nesse teu colo divino&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;A tua alma não pedia&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;A Deus, pelo teu menino&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Diz-me tu, que me geraste&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Meu vaso, minha raiz&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Quantas lágrimas choraste&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Plas loucuras que fiz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Todas as dores do passado&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;E do presente também&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Descansa-as neste meu fado&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Boa noite minha mãe&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;Fado Menor – (Mário Raínho – J. Sousa - Popular)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-2909699521789819815?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/2909699521789819815/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=2909699521789819815' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/2909699521789819815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/2909699521789819815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2007/02/fm055-diz-me-me-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM055 - Diz-me Mãe (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-5492048642415944115</id><published>2007-02-22T19:30:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-02-18T00:09:10.679Z</updated><title type='text'>FM054 - Como É Bom Ser Pequenino (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:22;"&gt;Como É Bom Ser Pequenino&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É tão bom ser pequenino, ter pai, ter mãe, ter avós&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;Ter esperança no destino, e ter quem goste de nós&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;Vem cá José Manuel, dás-me a graciosa ideia&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;De Jesus da Galileia, a traquinar no vergel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;És moreninho de pele, como foi o Deus menino&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;Tens o mesmo olhar divino, ai que saudades eu tenho&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;Em não ser do teu tamanho, é tão bom ser pequenino&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;Os teus dedos delicados, nessas tuas mãos inquietas&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;Lembram-me dez borboletas, a voejar nos silvados&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;E como tu sem cuidados, também já corri veloz&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;Vem cá falemos a sós, dum caso sentimental&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;Quero dizer-te o que vale, ter pai, ter mãe, ter avós&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;Ter avós afirmo-te eu, perdoa as imagens minhas&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;É ter relíquias velhinhas, e ter mãe é ter o céu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;Ter pai assim como o teu, te dá o pão e o ensino&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;É ter sempre o sol a pino, e o luar como rouxinóis&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;Triunfar como os heróis, e ter esperança no destino&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;Tu sabes o que é esperança, o sonho, a ilusão, a fé&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;Sabes lá o que isso é, minha inocente criança&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;Tu és fonte na pujança, teu rio que chegou à foz&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;Eu sou ante tu após, que saudades, que saudades&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;A gente a fazer maldades, e ter quem goste de nós&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Fado&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt; Dois Tons &lt;/span&gt;Corrido – (Júlio Vieitas – Popular) &lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;[Correcção Anónimo]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-5492048642415944115?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/5492048642415944115/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=5492048642415944115' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/5492048642415944115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/5492048642415944115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2007/02/fm054-como-bom-ser-pequenino-fernando.html' title='FM054 - Como É Bom Ser Pequenino (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-3899551895119674990</id><published>2007-02-22T19:26:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-22T19:29:25.869Z</updated><title type='text'>FM053 - Divina Do Amor (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 22pt;"&gt;Divina Do Amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 8pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ó divina do amor&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Amante, mulher, irmã&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Senhora amiga do lar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;O teu rosto é uma flor&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Orvalhada pla manhã&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Que a minha voz quis cantar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Ó divina do amor&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Minha razão de viver&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;A ternura em cada instante&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Quem te deu esse esplendor&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Que me dá gosto de ser&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;O teu amor teu amante&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Minha menina crescida&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Que Deus quis pôr a meu lado&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Como&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;" lang="EN-GB"&gt; irmã da minha dor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Por ti é que existe a vida&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Por ti eu canto este fado&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ó divina do amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;Fado Britinho – (Frederico de Brito - Mário Raínho)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-3899551895119674990?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/3899551895119674990/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=3899551895119674990' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/3899551895119674990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/3899551895119674990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2007/02/fm053-divina-do-amor-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM053 - Divina Do Amor (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-482171182853257554</id><published>2007-02-22T19:16:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-22T19:18:17.714Z</updated><title type='text'>FM052 - Tantos Fados Deu-me A Vida (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 22pt;"&gt;Tantos Fados Deu-me A Vida&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu fui a voz, aquela voz dolorida&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Cantando a sós, com a solidão da vida&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Mas sei que em mim, há um lado transparente&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Que é um generoso abraço, entre mim e a minha gente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;Tantos fados deu-me a vida&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;E eu dei-me todo ao fado&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;Em cada noite perdida&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;Entre um verso e uma bebida&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;Em mil fados fui escutado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;Cantei os sonhos frustrados&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;Dos poetas sonhadores&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;Dei a voz a tristes fados&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;E ao cantar de olhos cerrados&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;Vi mais perto as suas dores&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Eu fui o sal, de tanta lágrima triste&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;O vendaval, que se amaina e logo insiste&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Mas sei que em mim, houve sempre à flor da voz&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Um fado triste e dolente, que é um fado que há em nós&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;(Jorge Fernando - Jorge Fernando)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-482171182853257554?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/482171182853257554/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=482171182853257554' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/482171182853257554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/482171182853257554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2007/02/fm052-tantos-fados-deu-me-vida-fernando.html' title='FM052 - Tantos Fados Deu-me A Vida (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-4143909735320233209</id><published>2007-02-22T17:57:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-22T17:59:59.454Z</updated><title type='text'>FM051 - Lua De Maio (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 22pt;"&gt;Lua de Maio&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amor meu, que meu não seja&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;O destino de perder-te&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Outro amor, cega te traz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Que o meu olhar, te não veja&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Quando penso merecer-te&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;E sei que a outro te dás&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;Lua de Maio&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;Servida em taça de luz&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;Como um cigano andaluz&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Cantando mágoas dum fado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;Lua de Maio&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;Entristeceu meu olhar&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;Breve lembrança, a lembrar&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Um grande amor, acabado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Por amor, só por amor&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Faz-nos a vida aceitar&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;O sal que as lágrimas são&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Mas quando dói, é dor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Que ao ser que somos vem dar&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;A tristeza ao coração&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;(Jorge Fernando – Jorge Fernando)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-4143909735320233209?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/4143909735320233209/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=4143909735320233209' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/4143909735320233209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/4143909735320233209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2007/02/fm051-lua-de-maio-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM051 - Lua De Maio (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-4386531588439801429</id><published>2007-02-22T17:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-22T17:56:10.980Z</updated><title type='text'>FM050 - Quando A Severa Morreu (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 22pt;"&gt;Quando A Severa Morreu&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Noite fagueira, de S. João na Mouraria&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Uma fogueira, arde no Largo da Guia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Chegam Tipóias, com Fidalgos e Ciganas&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Riem Pinóias, com a graça de Timpanas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Sobem balões, tem mais brilho a luz da lua&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;E os alegres foliões, cantam nas marchas da rua&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Geme a guitarra, com emoção tudo espera&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Falta chegar a Severa, com sua graça bizarra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Mas já no Largo, a fogueira se extinguia&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Destino amargo, Severa não mais viria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Àquela hora, nos braços do seu amado&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Cantava agora, o seu derradeiro fado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Tangem os sinos, na Capelinha da Guia&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;E dois anjos pequeninos, desceram à Mouraria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Amanheceu, e voz do fado calou-se&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;E a própria lua ocultou-se, pra ver Severa no céu&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;Fado Modesto – (A. Vilar da &lt;st1:personname st="on"&gt;Costa&lt;/st1:PersonName&gt; – D. R.)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-4386531588439801429?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/4386531588439801429/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=4386531588439801429' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/4386531588439801429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/4386531588439801429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2007/02/fm050-quando-severa-morreu-fernando.html' title='FM050 - Quando A Severa Morreu (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-2875583960516572382</id><published>2007-02-22T17:51:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-22T17:53:06.896Z</updated><title type='text'>FM049 - Adeus A Um Amigo (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 22pt;"&gt;Adeus A Um Amigo&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Só nós dois é que sabemos&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Quantos fados acendemos&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Nas noites desta cidade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;O Vendaval já passou&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Mas a tua voz ficou&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Na memória da saudade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Tu foste o Cantor Latino&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Que começou de menino&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;A vaguear neste rio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Foste o poema em renovo&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Cantiga na voz do povo&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;E hoje és Lugar Vazio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Com um cântico na mão&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Romântico meu irmão&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Tu foste pla vida fora&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Foi Hora de Despedida&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Fechou-se o Palco da Vida&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;O Destino Marca a Hora&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;Fado Oliveira – (Mário Raínho – D. R.)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-2875583960516572382?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/2875583960516572382/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=2875583960516572382' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/2875583960516572382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/2875583960516572382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2007/02/fm049-adeus-um-amigo-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM049 - Adeus A Um Amigo (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-5471421769679281752</id><published>2007-02-22T17:49:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-22T17:50:04.445Z</updated><title type='text'>FM048 - Um Grande Amor (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 22pt;"&gt;Um Grande Amor&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amor não é palavra que diga&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Sem o sentir profundo da verdade&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Amor é quanto baste minha amiga&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Pra estar longe um segundo e ter saudade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Amor não é somente possuir-te&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Em nome dum desejo disfarçado&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Amor é num só beijo definir-te&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;O que o coração diz mesmo calado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Amor pode ser dor, pode ser pranto&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;E pode do prazer, ser rei e senhor&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Pode passar a margem do encanto&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Como pode nem mesmo ser amor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;E quem o amor perder, deve lembrar&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;No momento em que doa a maior dor&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Pois só com outro amor pode acalmar&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;O resto do que foi um grande amor&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;(Custódio Castelo – Jorge Fernando)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-5471421769679281752?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/5471421769679281752/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=5471421769679281752' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/5471421769679281752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/5471421769679281752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2007/02/fm048-um-grande-amor-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM048 - Um Grande Amor (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-7213489551134265614</id><published>2007-02-22T17:44:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-22T17:47:16.782Z</updated><title type='text'>FM047 - Minha Mãe É Pobrezinha (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 22pt;"&gt;Minha Mãe É Pobrezinha&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minha mãe é pobrezinha, não tem nada pra me dar&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Dá-me beijos coitadinha, e depois põe-se a chorar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Tonecas e Marianela, dois engraçados garotos&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Foram sentar-se os marotos, por sob a minha janela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Nisto diz ele pra ela, porque andas mal vestidinha&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Ando sim, mas não é minha a culpa de andar assim&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;A vida está tão ruim, minha mãe é pobrezinha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Mas nunca andaste calçada, nunca tiveste sapatos&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Ela baixou os gaiatos olhitos envergonhada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Mas nunca tiveste nada, uma corda pra saltar&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Um arco para brincar, um tambor, muitas bonecas&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Minha mãezinha, Tonecas, não tem nada pra me dar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Gostaria de saber, porque nunca foste à escola&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;A gente pra pedir esmola, não precisa de saber ler&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Então, onde vais comer? A casa de uma vizinha&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Como lá, de manhãzinha, há noite vou lá também&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;E depois a minha mãe, dá-me beijos coitadinha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Beijos são apenas beijos, tu perdoa que te diga&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Se não enchem a barriga, não devem matar desejos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Mas não sabem a sobejos, têm outro paladar&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Sabem ao doce manjar, dos mais ternos alimentos&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Minha mãe dá-mos aos centos, e depois põe-se a chorar&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;(Popular – Linhares Barbosa)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-7213489551134265614?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/7213489551134265614/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=7213489551134265614' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/7213489551134265614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/7213489551134265614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2007/02/fm047-minha-me-pobrezinha-fernando.html' title='FM047 - Minha Mãe É Pobrezinha (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-5263806223402795461</id><published>2007-02-22T17:31:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-22T17:42:50.029Z</updated><title type='text'>FM046 - Loucuras De Um Homem Só (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 22pt;"&gt;Loucuras De Um Homem Só&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aqui, neste lugar feito de espanto&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Tecendo, primaveras a sonhar&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Desvendo, ante os meus olhos o encanto&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Das formas do teu corpo, por beijar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Dou asas, aos meus sonhos proibidos&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Mas tenho a solidão, como castigo&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Amordaçando a fome, dos sentidos&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Que morrem por fazer amor contigo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Desfaço, a ilusão fica a saudade&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;No teu corpo perdido, pela lonjura&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Depois deambulando pla cidade&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Vagueia um homem só, com a loucura&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;Fado Jovita (Mário Raínho – D. R.)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-5263806223402795461?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/5263806223402795461/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=5263806223402795461' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/5263806223402795461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/5263806223402795461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2007/02/fm047-loucuras-de-um-homem-s-fernando.html' title='FM046 - Loucuras De Um Homem Só (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-2668490438110463800</id><published>2007-02-22T17:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-22T17:30:27.958Z</updated><title type='text'>FM045 - A Minha Oração (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 22pt;"&gt;A Minha Oração&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não fui menino de coro&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Nunca aprendi a rezar&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Mas aprendi este choro&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Que a vida me soube dar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Esta mágoa na garganta&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Com que canto os meus revezes&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Diz o povo que quem canta&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Reza sempre duas vezes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Cada verso uma oração&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Um Padre-Nosso rezado&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;E na minha confissão&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Vão as rimas do meu fado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Nunca aprendi a rezar&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;A erguer as mãos aos céus&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Mas eu sinto que ao cantar&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Estou a conversar com Deus&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;Fado Menor do Porto – (Mário Raínho – D. R.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-2668490438110463800?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/2668490438110463800/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=2668490438110463800' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/2668490438110463800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/2668490438110463800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2007/02/fm045-minha-orao-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM045 - A Minha Oração (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-5253673763505170713</id><published>2007-02-22T17:23:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-22T17:37:50.810Z</updated><title type='text'>FM044 - Mar Cruel (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 22pt;"&gt;Mar Cruel&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foi levada um dia na esperança&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Da sua pobre vida melhorar&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;E os meus olhos tristes de criança&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Choraram por os seus irem esperar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Trazes-me notícias depois foges&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Ó mar cruel, ó mar cruel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Dum amor que tenho e que está longe&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Ó mar cruel, ó mar cruel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;E esse mar que nos aparta&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;É o mesmo que nos aproxima&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Porque às vezes, trás uma carta&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Que nos une e o nosso amor sublima&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Hoje tantos anos já passados&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;A minha esperança vive sem temor&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Porque o mar que trás os teus recados&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Há-de trazer-te um dia meu amor&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;(Jorge Fernando - Jorge Fernando)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-5253673763505170713?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/5253673763505170713/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=5253673763505170713' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/5253673763505170713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/5253673763505170713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2007/02/mar-cruel-foi-levada-um-dia-na-esperana.html' title='FM044 - Mar Cruel (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-1452743031526705177</id><published>2007-02-22T05:07:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-22T17:40:11.648Z</updated><title type='text'>FM043 - Deixem-me ser assim (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 22pt;"&gt;Deixem-me Ser Assim&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deixem-me ser assim&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Fadista como sou&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Ser voz de mar tranquilo&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Ser voz de noite calma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Deixem-me ser jardim&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Que em mim se cultivou&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Onde a seiva da voz&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Transforma a flor em alma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Deixem-me ser assim&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Apenas como sou&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Ser onda que alcançou&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;A praia desejada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Não me gritem decretos&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Que um dia alguém criou&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Não sou palco de versos&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Sou eu ou então nada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Por isso é que renasce&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Em todos os meus fados&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;No ventre cristalino&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Dum sol que não tem fim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Jamais cantarei preso&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;A gestos estudados&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Não trago o fado à vista&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Mas sim dentro de mim&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;(Jorge Fernando – Martinho da Assunção)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-1452743031526705177?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/1452743031526705177/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=1452743031526705177' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/1452743031526705177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/1452743031526705177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2007/02/fm042-deixem-me-ser-assim.html' title='FM043 - Deixem-me ser assim (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-116259578785566580</id><published>2006-11-03T22:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-11-03T23:20:19.936Z</updated><title type='text'>FM042 - Aquela Boca (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Aquela Boca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conheço como os meus dedos&lt;br /&gt;Os traços daquela boca&lt;br /&gt;Que me beijou tanta vez&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;Ouvi-lhe tantos segredos&lt;br /&gt;E tanta palavra louca&lt;br /&gt;Em tanta jura que fez&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                       &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;É tão meiga apetitosa&lt;br /&gt;Tão formosa, sedutora&lt;br /&gt;Cheia de perfume e cor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;É a boca mais mimosa&lt;br /&gt;Mas a mais enganadora&lt;br /&gt;A trocar beijos d’amor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;           &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Não há boca mais travessa&lt;br /&gt;Provocante, sorridente&lt;br /&gt;E atraente não há&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;Como eu quem a conheça&lt;br /&gt;Sabe que essa boca mente&lt;br /&gt;Em cada beijo que dá&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Encantadora sensível&lt;br /&gt;Quando não beija revela&lt;br /&gt;A  forma dum coração&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;Até parece impossível&lt;br /&gt;Que uma boca como aquela&lt;br /&gt;Não saiba dizer perdão&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Fado Sonhos (Moita Girão – Frederico de Brito)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-116259578785566580?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/116259578785566580/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=116259578785566580' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/116259578785566580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/116259578785566580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/11/fm042-aquela-boca-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM042 - Aquela Boca (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115784304471289618</id><published>2006-09-09T23:59:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-10T00:04:04.720+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM041 - Mais uma foto do Rei</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/Fernando%20Maur%3F%3Fcio.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/320/Fernando%20Maur%3F%3Fcio.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in http://www.fblog.noite.pt/Fado/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115784304471289618?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115784304471289618/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115784304471289618' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115784304471289618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115784304471289618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/09/fm041-mais-uma-foto-do-rei.html' title='FM041 - Mais uma foto do Rei'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115486975879656487</id><published>2006-08-06T13:59:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T00:01:20.926Z</updated><title type='text'>FM040 - A Lucinda Camareira (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;A Lucinda Camareira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A Lucinda camareira, Era a moça mais ladina&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mais formosa, mais brejeira, Do café da Marcelina&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;De maneira graciosa, Sobre o lindo penteado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Trazia sempre uma rosa, Cor de rosa avermelhado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;Eu vivi enfeitiçado, Por aquela feiticeira&lt;br /&gt;Que airosamente ligeira, Servia de mesa em mesa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Tinha feições de princesa, A Lucinda camareira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Primando pela brancura, O seu avental de folhos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Realçava-lhe a negrura, Encantadora dos olhos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;Nem desgostos nem abrolhos, Sofrera desde menina&lt;br /&gt;Que apesar de libertina, Orgulhosa e perturbante&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;No velho café cantante, Era a moça mais ladina&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Os marialvas em tipóias, Iam da baixa num salto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ver a mais linda das jóias, Ao café do bairro Alto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;A camareira que exalta, De tão singular maneira&lt;br /&gt;Era amada pela cegueira, Que a palavra amor requer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Para mim era a mulher, Mais formosa e mais brejeira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Certa noite de fim d’ano, Em que certo cantador&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Cantava ao som do piano, Cantigas feitas de amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;Um cigano alquilador, De tês bronzeada e fina&lt;br /&gt;Por afortunada sina, A Lucinda conquistou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;E para sempre a levou, Do café da Marcelina&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fado &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;Mouraria&lt;/span&gt; Bailarico (D. R. – Popular) &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;[correcção Anónimo]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115486975879656487?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115486975879656487/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115486975879656487' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115486975879656487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115486975879656487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/08/fm040-lucinda-camareira-fernando.html' title='FM040 - A Lucinda Camareira (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115316378790061864</id><published>2006-07-17T20:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-17T20:16:27.903+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM039 - Voltei Ao Cais (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;Voltei Ao Cais&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voltei ao cais da partida&lt;br /&gt;Voltei e sinto que sonhei&lt;br /&gt;Que voltavas nesse dia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;E que trazias a vida&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Que há tempo ao cais te levei&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Ficando d’alma vazia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Meu olhar iluminou-se&lt;br /&gt;Quando te vi acenando&lt;br /&gt;Corri para te abraçar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Mas o sonho dissipou-se&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;E acordei mesmo quando&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Ia teus lábios beijar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Vi fugir o doce enleio&lt;br /&gt;Que envolveu teu regressar&lt;br /&gt;É triste a realidade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Tu não vens e eu receio&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Que me possa habituar&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;A viver com a saudade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Fado Porto - (António Rocha – José Joaquim Cavalheiro Junior)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115316378790061864?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115316378790061864/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115316378790061864' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115316378790061864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115316378790061864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm039-voltei-ao-cais-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM039 - Voltei Ao Cais (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115316355958728280</id><published>2006-07-17T20:09:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-17T20:12:39.590+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM038 - Pergunta A Quem Quiseres (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;Pergunta a Quem Quiseres&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pergunta a quem quiseres&lt;br /&gt;Ao vento à madrugada&lt;br /&gt;Se deixei de te amar&lt;br /&gt;Se acaso te esqueci&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Pergunta até às flores&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Quando a noite orvalhava&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Se não eram meus olhos&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;A chorarem por ti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Pergunta à verde cor&lt;br /&gt;Dos sonhos que sonhei&lt;br /&gt;À lua aos lábios frios&lt;br /&gt;Que beijei e esqueci&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Pergunta à minha dor&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Quantos fados cantei&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Nos mil dias vazios&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Em que esperei por ti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Pergunta à ilusão&lt;br /&gt;Das luas do pecado&lt;br /&gt;Aos amores que não quis&lt;br /&gt;E que deixei pr’aí&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Pergunta à solidão&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Do meu quarto alugado&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Se as loucuras que fiz&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Não foi pensando em ti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Fado Laranjeira – (Mário Raínho – Alfredo Marceneiro)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115316355958728280?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115316355958728280/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115316355958728280' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115316355958728280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115316355958728280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm038-pergunta-quem-quiseres-fernando.html' title='FM038 - Pergunta A Quem Quiseres (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115316334344006475</id><published>2006-07-17T20:06:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-17T20:09:03.443+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM037 - O Menino Que Não Fui (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;O Menino Que Não Fui&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nasci talhado de fado&lt;br /&gt;Cresci no tempo a correr&lt;br /&gt;Sem direito de sonhar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Não parei no meu passado&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Fui menino sem saber&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;E condenado a cantar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Tive a noite por guarida&lt;br /&gt;Deram um fado por pão&lt;br /&gt;Por enxerga a fria rua&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Dormi à margem da vida&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Ao lado da solidão&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Coberto pla luz da lua&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Queria voltar a nascer&lt;br /&gt;E sonhar um só momento&lt;br /&gt;No meu pequenino&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Passou o tempo a correr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Não tive idade nem tempo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;De brincar e ser menino&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Fado João Maria dos Anjos – (Mário Raínho – João Maria dos Anjos)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115316334344006475?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115316334344006475/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115316334344006475' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115316334344006475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115316334344006475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm037-o-menino-que-no-fui-fernando.html' title='FM037 - O Menino Que Não Fui (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115316317515133140</id><published>2006-07-17T20:04:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-17T20:06:15.153+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM036 - O Beijo Que Não Se Deu (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;O Beijo Que Não Se Deu&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tanta ternura em desejo&lt;br /&gt;Nos lábios pode ficar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;A lembrar aquele beijo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Que não se chegou a dar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Quando um beijo é prometido&lt;br /&gt;Fica-nos sempre o ensejo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;De haver em nosso sentido&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Tanta ternura em desejo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;E aquele que a nossa boca&lt;br /&gt;Em promessa quis pagar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Às vezes por coisa pouca&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Nos lábios pode ficar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Se é de sincera amizade&lt;br /&gt;E nunca um simples gracejo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Sentimos sempre vontade&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;A lembrar aquele beijo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;No nosso amor sempre nele&lt;br /&gt;Há beijos pra recordar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Mas nunca se esquece aquele&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Que não se chegou a dar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;(Clemente Pereira – Casimiro Ramos)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115316317515133140?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115316317515133140/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115316317515133140' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115316317515133140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115316317515133140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm036-o-beijo-que-no-se-deu-fernando.html' title='FM036 - O Beijo Que Não Se Deu (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115316299786691379</id><published>2006-07-17T20:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-17T20:03:17.870+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM035 - Meu Amor É Nuvem Branca (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;Meu Amor É Nuvem Branca&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meu amor é nuvem branca&lt;br /&gt;Enleada ao firmamento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;É um rouxinol que canta&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Madrigais feitos de vento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Meu amor é rio correndo&lt;br /&gt;Pra ir abraçar a foz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;É um poema prendendo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;A alma dentro da voz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Meu amor é uma criança&lt;br /&gt;A florir em verdes prados&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;É beijo que se não cansa&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Nuns lábios enamorados&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Meu amor é um coração&lt;br /&gt;Todo de versos bordado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;É pomba na minha mão&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Meu amor é este fado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;(Mário Raínho – José Marques do Amaral)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115316299786691379?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115316299786691379/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115316299786691379' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115316299786691379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115316299786691379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm035-meu-amor-nuvem-branca-fernando.html' title='FM035 - Meu Amor É Nuvem Branca (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115316279610682224</id><published>2006-07-17T19:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-17T19:59:56.110+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM034 - Justino da Tipoia (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;Justino da Tipoia&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu não sei se vocês, se lembram dele&lt;br /&gt;Chamavam-lhe o Justino, da Tipóia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Era o maior amigo, o mais fiel&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Do fado, da boémia, e da ramboia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Tinha orgulho nas cartas, na jaleca&lt;br /&gt;No boné à fadista, e lenço à faia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Fazia praça ali, na Horta Seca&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;E morava na rua, da Atalaia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Sabia a vida íntima, amorosa&lt;br /&gt;Dos faias, bailarinas, fidalguia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Mas numa directriz, imperiosa&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Não contava a ninguém, o que sabia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Morreu pobre Justino, a quem o fado&lt;br /&gt;Deve laivos de vida, e de fulgor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;As rédeas deu-as ele, ao Zé Corado&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;E as guizeiras ao Bento Alquilador&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Fado Zé Negro – (Fernando Freitas – Carlos Conde)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115316279610682224?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115316279610682224/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115316279610682224' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115316279610682224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115316279610682224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm034-justino-da-tipoia-fernando.html' title='FM034 - Justino da Tipoia (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115316255552430821</id><published>2006-07-17T19:54:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-17T19:57:02.220+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM033 - Estrela Que Se Apaga (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;Estrela Que Se Apaga&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tenho as estrelas por telha&lt;br /&gt;O meu tecto um velho barco&lt;br /&gt;Por paredes a maresia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Espreita-me o arco-da-velha&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Como se a velha e o arco&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Me fizessem companhia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;O corpo já não reclama&lt;br /&gt;Os colchões de pedra dura&lt;br /&gt;A que está habituado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Mas por dentro há uma chama&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Que arde viva e segura&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;No meu sangue revoltado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Quando chega o vento aflito&lt;br /&gt;Contra os vidros da janela&lt;br /&gt;Do quarto que não conheço&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Sopro para o infinito&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Apago a última estrela&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Logo depois adormeço&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;(Jorge Fernando – Jaime Santos)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115316255552430821?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115316255552430821/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115316255552430821' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115316255552430821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115316255552430821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm033-estrela-que-se-apaga-fernando.html' title='FM033 - Estrela Que Se Apaga (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115316244467031517</id><published>2006-07-17T19:51:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-17T19:54:04.673+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM032 - Escrevi Teu Nome No Vento (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;Escrevi Teu Nome No Vento&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escrevi teu nome no vento&lt;br /&gt;Convencido que o escrevia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Na folha dum esquecimento&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Que no vento se perdia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Ao vê-lo seguir envolto&lt;br /&gt;Na poeira do caminho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Julguei meu coração solto&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Dos elos do teu carinho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Pobre de mim não pensava&lt;br /&gt;Que tal e qual como eu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;O vento se apaixonava&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Por este nome que é teu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Em vez de ir longe levá-lo&lt;br /&gt;Longe, onde o tempo lhes passa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Anda contente a gritá-lo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Onde passa e a quem passa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;E quando o vento se agita&lt;br /&gt;Agita-se o meu tormento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Quero esquecer-te acredita&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Mas cada vez há mais vento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Fado Carriche – (Jorge Rosa – Raul Ferrão)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115316244467031517?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115316244467031517/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115316244467031517' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115316244467031517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115316244467031517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm032-escrevi-teu-nome-no-vento.html' title='FM032 - Escrevi Teu Nome No Vento (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115316227168232432</id><published>2006-07-17T19:49:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-17T19:51:11.683+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM031 - Confessando (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;Confessando&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esta carta minha mãe&lt;br /&gt;É o espelho onde o teu filho&lt;br /&gt;Se desnuda totalmente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;O fogo que o vinho tem&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Acendeu este rastilho&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;E a coragem de ser gente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;É por ela, sim confesso&lt;br /&gt;Que de segundo a segundo&lt;br /&gt;Bebo a febre de morrer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Mas quando a vires só te peço&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Não lhe contes o meu mundo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Não lhe dês esse prazer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Neste meu quarto isolado&lt;br /&gt;O vinho que vou bebendo&lt;br /&gt;A sua imagem retém&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Sobrevivo neste fado&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Muito embora eu a perdendo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Continuo a ter-te mãe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;(Jorge Fernando – Alfredo Marceneiro)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115316227168232432?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115316227168232432/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115316227168232432' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115316227168232432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115316227168232432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm031-confessando-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM031 - Confessando (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115316212634471930</id><published>2006-07-17T19:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-06T20:39:22.100+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM030 - Caravela da Saudade (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;Caravela da Saudade&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nos tempos em que o mar era um segredo&lt;br /&gt;Desafiando a própria tempestade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Alguns heróis partiram sem ter medo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Na dócil Caravela da Saudade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;E já no alto mar longe da barra&lt;br /&gt;Odiados pela fé de lés a lés&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Havia sempre um choro de guitarra&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;E o soluçar de um fado no convés&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;A Caravelas e mágoas afundou-se&lt;br /&gt;E a guitarra seguindo as marés cheias&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Chorando de onda em onda transformou-se&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Nesse cantar lendário das sereias&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;E hoje ao lembrar tanta heroicidade&lt;br /&gt;Quando soluça e geme uma guitarra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Sente-se a Caravela da Saudade&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Chegar ao coração e entrar na barra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Fado Esmeraldinha – (Júlio Proença – Carlos Zamarra)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115316212634471930?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115316212634471930/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115316212634471930' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115316212634471930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115316212634471930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm030-caravela-da-saudade-fernando.html' title='FM030 - Caravela da Saudade (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115316198078820238</id><published>2006-07-17T19:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-17T19:46:20.790+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM029 - Boa Noite Solidão (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;Boa Noite Solidão&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boa noite solidão&lt;br /&gt;Vi entrar pla janela&lt;br /&gt;Teu corpo de negrura&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Quero dar-te a minha mão&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Como a chama duma vela&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Dá a mão à noite escura&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Os teus dedos solidão&lt;br /&gt;Despenteiam a saudade&lt;br /&gt;Que ficou no lugar dela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Espalhas saudade plo chão&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;E contra a minha vontade&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Lembras-me a vida com ela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Só tu sabes solidão&lt;br /&gt;A angustia que trás a dor&lt;br /&gt;Quando o amor a gente nega&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Como quem perde a razão&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Afogando o nosso amor&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;No orgulho que nos cega&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Com o coração na mão&lt;br /&gt;Vou pedir-te sem fingir&lt;br /&gt;Que não me fales mais dela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Boa noite solidão&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Agora quero dormir&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Porque vou sonhar com ela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Fado Carlos da Maia 6ªs – (Jorge Fernando – Carlos da Maia)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115316198078820238?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115316198078820238/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115316198078820238' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115316198078820238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115316198078820238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm029-boa-noite-solido-fernando.html' title='FM029 - Boa Noite Solidão (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115316180362789927</id><published>2006-07-17T19:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-17T19:43:23.630+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM028 - Aqui (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;Aqui&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aqui em cada fado, há uma flor&lt;br /&gt;No canteiro da alma, de quem canta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Aqui cada guitarra, embala a dor&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Quando à noite a saudade, se levanta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Aqui cada poema, é gota d’água&lt;br /&gt;Que às vezes mata a sede, à solidão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Aqui cada cigarro, engana a mágoa&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;E perfuma a tristeza, de ilusão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Aqui toda a distância, do passado&lt;br /&gt;Senta-se à minha mesa, de mansinho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Aqui as minhas veias, bebem fado&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Que nasce em cada canjirão, de vinho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Aqui sinto a coragem, de ser eu&lt;br /&gt;Ao rir do meu passado, fatalista&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Cantando com a voz, que Deus me deu&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Aqui de corpo e alma, sou fadista&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Fado Varela - (Mário Raínho – Renato Varela)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115316180362789927?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115316180362789927/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115316180362789927' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115316180362789927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115316180362789927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm028-aqui-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM028 - Aqui (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115316162770980524</id><published>2006-07-17T19:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-17T19:40:27.716+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM027 - Amigo João (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;Amigo João&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ó meu amigo João&lt;br /&gt;Em que terras te perdeste&lt;br /&gt;Se por nada lá morreste&lt;br /&gt;Meu amigo, meu irmão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De nascença duvidosa&lt;br /&gt;Proibiram a tua infância&lt;br /&gt;Transformaram-te em distância&lt;br /&gt;Como braços de alcançar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foste folha a flutuar&lt;br /&gt;Arrastada pla corrente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;E o teu sangue foi semente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dos cifrões doutro lugar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Gostavas de ouvir cantar&lt;br /&gt;As modas da nossa terra&lt;br /&gt;E as verdades que ela encerra&lt;br /&gt;No seu jeito popular&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teu corpo de tudo dar&lt;br /&gt;Corre nas veias do mundo&lt;br /&gt;Imenso, fértil, fecundo&lt;br /&gt;Com força de terra e mar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ponho aqui o recordar&lt;br /&gt;Da agrura da tua morte&lt;br /&gt;Por sobre sangue a gritar&lt;br /&gt;Que não foi azar nem sorte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A força do vento norte&lt;br /&gt;Levou teu grito na mão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Meu amigo, meu irmão&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Quem forçou a tua sorte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Fado Corrido – (Jorge Fernando – Popular)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115316162770980524?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115316162770980524/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115316162770980524' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115316162770980524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115316162770980524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm027-amigo-joo-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM027 - Amigo João (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115267026279225906</id><published>2006-07-12T03:08:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-12T03:11:02.793+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM026 - Tão Mentirosa (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;Tão Mentirosa&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não sejas cabeça tonta&lt;br /&gt;Tem maneiras, tem juízo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nunca digas mais que a conta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nem menos do que é preciso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De cada vez que beijava&lt;br /&gt;A tua boca mimosa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Confesso que não esperava&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Que fosses tão mentirosa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que eras só minha juravas&lt;br /&gt;De mãos em cruz sobre o peito&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ao outro dia quebravas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A jura que tinhas feito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É verdade confirmada&lt;br /&gt;Nesta vida infelizmente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Quem mente por tudo e nada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Quanto mais jura mais mente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;(Moita Girão / J. M. Artilheiro)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115267026279225906?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115267026279225906/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115267026279225906' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115267026279225906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115267026279225906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm026-to-mentirosa-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM026 - Tão Mentirosa (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115267007572786381</id><published>2006-07-12T03:04:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-12T03:08:14.600+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM025 - Sótão Da Amendoeira (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;Sótão da Amendoeira&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naquele típico sótão&lt;br /&gt;Sob as telhas mais antigas&lt;br /&gt;Da Rua da Amendoeira&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Inda há traços que denotam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;O sabor dado às cantigas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Pla Matilde cantadeira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Airosa mas inconstante&lt;br /&gt;A Matilde dava ao Fado&lt;br /&gt;A graça de outros estilos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;No velho café cantante&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Que ficava mesmo ao lado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Da Estalagem dos Camilos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No sótão esconso e sujo&lt;br /&gt;Três sombras, porte ufano&lt;br /&gt;Espreitam a Mouraria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;As lágrimas dum Marujo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Os ciúmes dum Cigano&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;E os remorsos de um Rufia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senti presos os meus pés&lt;br /&gt;Mas desviei o caminho&lt;br /&gt;E quedei-me ali à beira&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Só para ver outra vez&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Aquele sótão velhinho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Da rua da Amendoeira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Marcha-Hino Raul Pinto - (Carlos Conde / Raul Pinto)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115267007572786381?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115267007572786381/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115267007572786381' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115267007572786381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115267007572786381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm025-sto-da-amendoeira-fernando.html' title='FM025 - Sótão Da Amendoeira (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115266986148376207</id><published>2006-07-12T03:01:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-12T03:04:21.483+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM024 - Saudades De Mim (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;Saudades De Mim&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem me dera voltar aos verdes anos&lt;br /&gt;Ser como um malmequer simples criança&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Não ter do teu amor os desenganos&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Nem sofrer dos teus beijos a lembrança&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Haver sempre em meu peito a primavera&lt;br /&gt;Dum garoto estouvado e libertino&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Não conhecer saudades quem me dera&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Pois já tive um calvário em pequenino&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Calvário muito meu onde brinquei&lt;br /&gt;E construí castelos de desejos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Calvário onde te vi onde te amei&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;À sombra do calvário dos teus beijos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Se o meu cantar é triste são lamentos&lt;br /&gt;Anseios de um sonho vivo de menino&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Os anos são lembranças, são tormentos&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Desfeitos no calvário do destino&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Fado Alberto - (Miguel Ramos / João Gomes)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115266986148376207?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115266986148376207/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115266986148376207' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115266986148376207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115266986148376207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm024-saudades-de-mim-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM024 - Saudades De Mim (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115266970275623047</id><published>2006-07-12T02:58:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-12T03:01:42.756+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM023 - Quando Me Sinto Só (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;Quando Me Sinto Só&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando me sinto só&lt;br /&gt;Como tu me deixaste&lt;br /&gt;Mais só que um vagabundo&lt;br /&gt;Num banco de jardim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;É quando tenho dó&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;De mim e por contraste&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Eu tenho ódio ao mundo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Que nos separa assim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Quando me sinto só&lt;br /&gt;Sabe-me a boca a Fado&lt;br /&gt;Lamento de quem chora&lt;br /&gt;A sua triste mágoa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rastejando no pó&lt;br /&gt;Meu coração cansado&lt;br /&gt;Lembra uma velha nora&lt;br /&gt;Morrendo à sede de água&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pra que não façam pouco&lt;br /&gt;Procuro não gritar&lt;br /&gt;A quem pergunto, amigo&lt;br /&gt;Não quero meter dó&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Num egoísmo louco&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Eu chego a desejar&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Que sintas o que sinto&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Quando me sinto só&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;(Alfredo Marceneiro / A. Ribeiro)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115266970275623047?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115266970275623047/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115266970275623047' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115266970275623047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115266970275623047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm023-quando-me-sinto-s-fernando.html' title='FM023 - Quando Me Sinto Só (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115266949544478472</id><published>2006-07-12T02:54:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-12T02:58:15.453+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM022 - Pede-me Tudo (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;Pede-me Tudo&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pede-me a luz das estrelas&lt;br /&gt;O seu doce cintilar&lt;br /&gt;Que eu farei por conseguir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Escolher entre todas elas&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;As que mais podem brilhar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;As mais sabem luzir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Pede-me o brilho da lua&lt;br /&gt;Do sol radioso e quente&lt;br /&gt;O soalheiro calor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Logo a lua será tua&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Do astro rei num repente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Terás também o fulgor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Pede-me o sal as marés&lt;br /&gt;As ondas a cor do mar&lt;br /&gt;Da alva espuma a cambraia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Pronto verás a teus pés&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Oceanos desmaiar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Tal qual como na praia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Tudo o mais que te apeteça&lt;br /&gt;Sentirás ao teu dispor&lt;br /&gt;Se me pedires te darei&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Só não peças que te esqueça&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Acredita meu amor&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Como fazê-lo não sei&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Fado Georgino - (Jorge Rosa / Georgino de Sousa)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115266949544478472?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115266949544478472/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115266949544478472' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115266949544478472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115266949544478472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm022-pede-me-tudo-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM022 - Pede-me Tudo (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115258731524911827</id><published>2006-07-11T04:06:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-11T04:08:35.250+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM021 - Passos na Rua (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;Passos na Rua&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passos na rua, quem passa&lt;br /&gt;Quem passa trás o passado&lt;br /&gt;Talvez seja uma ameaça&lt;br /&gt;Ou o silêncio de Fado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passos na rua, quem é&lt;br /&gt;É um sonho magoado&lt;br /&gt;É a ira da maré&lt;br /&gt;É a morte dum pecado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passos na rua, ilusão&lt;br /&gt;De quem quer ouvir tais passos&lt;br /&gt;Talvez seja o coração&lt;br /&gt;A gritar os seus cansaços&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passos na rua, sentença&lt;br /&gt;Dum Fado por inventar&lt;br /&gt;Passos na rua, descrença&lt;br /&gt;Deixai os passos, passar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;(C. Manuel / José António Sabrosa)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115258731524911827?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115258731524911827/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115258731524911827' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115258731524911827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115258731524911827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm021-passos-na-rua-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM021 - Passos na Rua (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115258713254014667</id><published>2006-07-11T04:02:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-11T04:05:32.543+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM020 - O Meu Fado (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;O Meu Fado&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O mistério mais profundo&lt;br /&gt;Está no destino marcado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seja onde for neste mundo&lt;br /&gt;Todos nós temos um fado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O meu está bem definido&lt;br /&gt;É castiço e tem magia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Basta pra lhe dar sentido&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Eu ter nascido na Mouraria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Um fadista quando canta&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;A voz sai da garganta&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Os ais do coração&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Mata a dor e faz esquecer&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Alguém que o faz sofrer&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;De amor ou de ilusão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;A vida tem os seus fados&lt;br /&gt;Marcados pelo destino&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quantos caminhos cruzados&lt;br /&gt;Eu passei desde menino&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas não importa o passado&lt;br /&gt;Quando o presente se avista&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Trago o destino marcado&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Neste meu fado de ser fadista&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Um fadista quando canta&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;A voz sai da garganta&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Os ais do coração&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Mata a dor e faz esquecer&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Alguém que o faz sofrer&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;De amor ou de ilusão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;(Júlio Vieitas)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115258713254014667?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115258713254014667/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115258713254014667' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115258713254014667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115258713254014667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm020-o-meu-fado-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM020 - O Meu Fado (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115258690867431346</id><published>2006-07-11T03:59:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-11T04:01:48.676+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM019 - O Meu Coração Parou (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;O Meu Coração Parou&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O meu coração parou&lt;br /&gt;E tudo ficou parado&lt;br /&gt;Após cantar meu fado&lt;br /&gt;Emudeceu na garganta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não chego a saber quem sou&lt;br /&gt;Nem o que faço na vida&lt;br /&gt;Sou folha no chão caída&lt;br /&gt;Sou poeta que não canta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nem um grito de revolta&lt;br /&gt;Nestes meus lábios cansados&lt;br /&gt;Nos meus olhos magoados&lt;br /&gt;O olhar de ver ninguém&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sou quarto onde ninguém volta&lt;br /&gt;Sou um berço sem menino&lt;br /&gt;Uma carta sem destino&lt;br /&gt;Que não sabe donde vem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou o louco mais louco&lt;br /&gt;À solta por esse mundo&lt;br /&gt;Sou um verso tão profundo&lt;br /&gt;Que ninguém o decifrou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tudo isto porque há pouco&lt;br /&gt;Quando cheguei não te vi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;E até tu voltares aqui&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;O meu coração parou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Fado Menor (A. Ribeiro)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115258690867431346?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115258690867431346/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115258690867431346' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115258690867431346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115258690867431346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm019-o-meu-corao-parou-fernando.html' title='FM019 - O Meu Coração Parou (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115258672885515132</id><published>2006-07-11T03:55:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-02-22T05:29:34.778Z</updated><title type='text'>FM018 - O Leilão da Casa da Mariquinhas (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;O Leilão da Casa da Mariquinhas&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ninguém sabe dizer nada, Da formosa Mariquinhas&lt;br /&gt;A casa foi leiloada, Venderam-lhe as tabuinhas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inda fresca e com gagé, Encontrei na Mouraria&lt;br /&gt;A antiga Rosa Maria, E o Chico do Cachené&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fui-lhes falar, já se vê, E perguntei-lhes, de entrada&lt;br /&gt;P’&lt;st1:personname productid="la Mariquinhas" st="on"&gt;la Mariquinhas&lt;/st1:personname&gt; coitada? Respondeu-me o Chico: e vê-la&lt;br /&gt;Tenho querido saber dela, Ninguém sabe dizer nada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Então as suas amigas? A Clotilde, a Júlia, a Alda&lt;br /&gt;A Inês, a Berta, a Mafalda? E as outras mais raparigas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aprendiam-lhe as cantigas, As mais ternas, coitadinhas&lt;br /&gt;Formosas como andorinhas, Olhos e peitos em brasa&lt;br /&gt;Que pena tenho da casa, Da formosa Mariquinhas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Então o Chico apertado, Com perguntas, explicou-se&lt;br /&gt;A vizinhança zangou-se, Fez-lhe um abaixo assinado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Diziam que havia fado, Ali até madrugada&lt;br /&gt;A pobre foi intimada, A sair, foi posta fora&lt;br /&gt;E por mor duma penhora, A casa foi leiloada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O Chico fora ao leilão, Arrematou a guitarra&lt;br /&gt;O espelho a colcha com barra, O cofre-forte e o fogão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como não houve cambão, Porque eram coisas mesquinhas&lt;br /&gt;Trouxe um par de chinelinhas, O alvará e as bambinelas&lt;br /&gt;E até das próprias janelas, Venderam-lhe as tabuinhas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Fado Corrido – (D.R. / Linhares Barbosa)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115258672885515132?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115258672885515132/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115258672885515132' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115258672885515132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115258672885515132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm018-o-leilo-da-casa-da-mariquinhas.html' title='FM018 - O Leilão da Casa da Mariquinhas (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115258649377014597</id><published>2006-07-11T03:51:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-11T03:54:53.770+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM017 - Não Te Menti (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;Não Te Menti&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alguém te foi dizer que adoro o fado&lt;br /&gt;Pensei que não te dessem novidade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Pois quando aprofundaste o meu passado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Com franqueza te expus toda verdade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recordas certamente de eu dizer&lt;br /&gt;É fado esta tristeza que me mói&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;É fado o meu cantar, o meu sofrer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;E é fado esta saudade que dói&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É fado o meu beijar o meu carinho&lt;br /&gt;É fado o meu sorriso, o meu perdão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;E até este passar no teu caminho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;É fado podes crer meu coração&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu dava-te razão se te mentisse&lt;br /&gt;Pedia-te perdão logo em seguida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mas já cantava o fado quando disse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Que és tu o grande amor da minha vida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Fado Alberto - (Moita Girão / Miguel Ramos)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115258649377014597?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115258649377014597/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115258649377014597' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115258649377014597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115258649377014597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm017-no-te-menti-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM017 - Não Te Menti (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115258628333725382</id><published>2006-07-11T03:48:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-11T03:51:23.346+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM016 - Na Mouraria (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;Na Mouraria&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na velha Mouraria é onde eu moro&lt;br /&gt;Qual jóia sem valor em áureo cofre&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Agora é lá que eu sofro, canto e choro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Como um fadista chora, canta e sofre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Embala-me à janela num sonho lindo&lt;br /&gt;Do Fado suspirando à luz da lua&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;E as lágrimas que choro vão caindo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Quais pérolas de mágoa sobre a rua&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perpassa o sentimento português&lt;br /&gt;Naquelas ruas tristes e bizarras&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;E sobre as tuas pedras muita vez&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Eu julgo ouvir trinar, velhas guitarras&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na minha vida incalma de fadista&lt;br /&gt;Eu sinto dentro d’alma noite e dia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Vibrar alegremente a fé bairrista&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;De quem sabe sofrer na Mouraria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Fado Latino - (J. Pereira / Gabriel de Oliveira)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115258628333725382?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115258628333725382/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115258628333725382' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115258628333725382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115258628333725382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm016-na-mouraria-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM016 - Na Mouraria (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115257561538280946</id><published>2006-07-11T00:49:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-11T00:53:35.383+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM015 - Moreninha da Travessa (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;Moreninha da Travessa&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moreninha da travessa&lt;br /&gt;Que atravessa a minha rua&lt;br /&gt;Apenas por culpa sua&lt;br /&gt;Penas minha alma atravessa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onde vai assim depressa&lt;br /&gt;Porque atravessa a correr&lt;br /&gt;Fugindo a quem a quer ver&lt;br /&gt;Onde vai com tanta pressa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por mais que diga e lhe peça&lt;br /&gt;Que essa pressa diminua&lt;br /&gt;Apressada continua&lt;br /&gt;E o que eu digo não lhe interessa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Qualquer dia inda tropeça&lt;br /&gt;Nessa pressa de fugir&lt;br /&gt;Tropeça e pode cair&lt;br /&gt;Veja lá não caia nessa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas se cair lhe aconteça&lt;br /&gt;Pra se livrar de embaraços&lt;br /&gt;Veja se cai nos meus braços&lt;br /&gt;Moreninha da travessa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Veja se cai nos meus braços&lt;br /&gt;Veja lá se cai depressa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;(Jorge Rosa/Filipe Pinto)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115257561538280946?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115257561538280946/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115257561538280946' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115257561538280946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115257561538280946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm015-moreninha-da-travessa-fernando.html' title='FM015 - Moreninha da Travessa (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115249354281730720</id><published>2006-07-10T02:01:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-10T21:02:38.013+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM014 - Lisboa Formosa (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;Lisboa Formosa&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;És de todas as cidades&lt;br /&gt;A cidade mais vistosa&lt;br /&gt;Tens a cor maravilhosa&lt;br /&gt;Com que se pintam saudades&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tens craveiros à janela&lt;br /&gt;Beijados pelo luar&lt;br /&gt;És rica desde a chinela&lt;br /&gt;Ao sol que te vem beijar&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Lisboa formosa&lt;br /&gt;Menina mimada&lt;br /&gt;Que sabe cantar&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Tens graça de rosa&lt;br /&gt;Linda perfumada&lt;br /&gt;Aberta ao luar&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lisboa formosa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;   Menina risonha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;De lindo passado&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Lisboa saudosa&lt;br /&gt;Lisboa que sonha&lt;br /&gt;Lisboa do fado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;São teus bairros diamantes&lt;br /&gt;Com que vaidosa te enfeitas&lt;br /&gt;Sempre que à noite te deitas&lt;br /&gt;Vestes estrelas de brilhantes&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Em carícia apaixonada&lt;br /&gt;O Tejo beija-te os pés&lt;br /&gt;Lisboa cidade amada&lt;br /&gt;Lisboa tão linda és&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;(Moita Girão / Adelino dos Santos)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115249354281730720?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115249354281730720/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115249354281730720' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115249354281730720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115249354281730720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm014-lisboa-formosa-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM014 - Lisboa Formosa (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115249324289705535</id><published>2006-07-10T01:56:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-02-25T00:15:22.077Z</updated><title type='text'>FM013 - Igreja de Santo Estêvão (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 22pt;"&gt;Igreja De Santo Estêvão&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na igreja de Santo Estêvão&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Junto ao Cruzeiro do Adro&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Houve em tempos guitarradas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Não há pincéis que descrevam&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Aquele soberbo quadro&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Dessas noites bem passadas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Mal que batiam trindades&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Reunia a fadistagem&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;No adro da santa igreja&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Fadistas quanta saudade&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Da velha camaradagem&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Que já não há quem a veja&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Santo Estêvão padroeiro&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Desse recanto de Alfama&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Faz um milagre sagrado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Que voltem ao teu Cruzeiro&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Esses fadistas de fama&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Que sabem cantar o fado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 14.2pt;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 9pt;"&gt;Fado Vitória – (Joaquim Campos - Gabriel de Oliveira)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 14.2pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115249324289705535?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115249324289705535/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115249324289705535' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115249324289705535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115249324289705535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm013-igreja-de-santo-estvo-fernando.html' title='FM013 - Igreja de Santo Estêvão (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115238192158411028</id><published>2006-07-08T19:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-10T21:04:16.206+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM012 - Fui Dizer-te Adeus Ao Cais (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;Fui Dizer-te Adeus Ao Cais&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Fui dizer-te adeus ao cais&lt;br /&gt;Levado plo sentimento&lt;br /&gt;Que guiava os passos meus&lt;/p&gt;             &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Não devo sentir jamais&lt;br /&gt;A tristeza do momento&lt;br /&gt;Em que dissemos adeus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;             &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Apenas duas palavras&lt;br /&gt;Um leve aperto de mão&lt;br /&gt;E um beijo que simulei&lt;/p&gt;            &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Ao tempo que te afastavas&lt;br /&gt;Senti que o meu coração&lt;br /&gt;Ia contigo também&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                 &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Já distante os olhos teus&lt;br /&gt;Não viam que a minha mão&lt;br /&gt;Ia acenando a tremer&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Volta depressa por Deus&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Levaste o meu coração&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Sem ti não posso viver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Fado Porto - (José Joaquim Cavalheiro Júnior / António Rocha)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115238192158411028?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115238192158411028/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115238192158411028' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115238192158411028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115238192158411028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm012-fui-dizer-te-adeus-ao-cais.html' title='FM012 - Fui Dizer-te Adeus Ao Cais (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115238159729852379</id><published>2006-07-08T18:56:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-10T21:04:32.950+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM011 - Feira da Ladra (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;Feira da Ladra&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Fui à Feira da Ladra, a mais bizarra&lt;br /&gt;Das feiras com a marca do passado,&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;E vi num ferro-velho uma guitarra&lt;br /&gt;De tampo, sujo, negro e desgrudado!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;No fundo uma etiqueta já sem cor&lt;br /&gt;Ocultava um retrato que ficou&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;E que era de um famoso tocador&lt;br /&gt;Que a morte há muitos anos já levou!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quatro cordas em rugas de cantigas&lt;br /&gt;Se nada mais fizessem recordar,&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Lembravam quatro décimas antigas&lt;br /&gt;À volta de uma quadra popular!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                      &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Comprei aquela jóia que se enquadra&lt;br /&gt;Em tudo o que são velhas raridades,&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Inda é preciso haver Feira da Ladra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;P’ra nos mostrar o preço das saudades!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Fado Zé Grande - (Raul Pereira - Carlos Conde)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115238159729852379?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115238159729852379/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115238159729852379' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115238159729852379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115238159729852379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm011-feira-da-ladra-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM011 - Feira da Ladra (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115236637519911890</id><published>2006-07-08T14:38:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-10T20:49:22.580+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM010 - Fado é Condão (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;Fado é Condão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cantar o Fado é condão&lt;br /&gt;Que já vem dentro de nós&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;É ter voz, ter coração&lt;br /&gt;E ter coração na voz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;            &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Às vezes ouço dizer&lt;br /&gt;E quem o diz tem razão&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Não canta o Fado quem quer&lt;br /&gt;Cantar o Fado é condão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;            &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Não é grito de alegria&lt;br /&gt;Nem é sofrimento atroz&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;É não sei quê que inebria&lt;br /&gt;Que já vem dentro de nós&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Cantar o Fado na verdade&lt;br /&gt;É vibrar numa canção&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;É saber sentir saudade&lt;br /&gt;É ter voz no coração&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;            &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;É cantar em qualquer lado&lt;br /&gt;É chorar, estando a sós&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;É escrever versos dum Fado&lt;br /&gt;E ter coração na voz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;          &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;(Francisco Viana / Moita Girão)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115236637519911890?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115236637519911890/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115236637519911890' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115236637519911890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115236637519911890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm010-fado-condo-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM010 - Fado é Condão (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115236550766653831</id><published>2006-07-08T14:29:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T23:56:14.094Z</updated><title type='text'>FM009 - Eu, Ela e o Fado (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;Eu, Ela e o Fado&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Põe as tuas argolas nas orelhas&lt;br /&gt;Calça chinela e leva meia branca&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Sobre o cabelo põe rosas vermelhas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Que vamos à toirada a Vila Franca&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Hás-de ir a trajar bem pra dar nas vistas&lt;br /&gt;E dizer mal de ti, que ninguém pense&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Quero mostrar a todos os fadistas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Que a mais bela fadista me pertence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Quando a praça estiver de todo à cunha&lt;br /&gt;Que vamos a marcar ninguém o nega&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Depois quando tocar pró boi à unha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Eu hei-de te oferecer a melhor pega&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Havemos de cear fora de portas&lt;br /&gt;Onde a minha guitarra vai bar brado&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Ali de canjirão a horas mortas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hás-de mostrar como se canta o fado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;(Moita Girão / &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;Joaquim Campos&lt;/span&gt; Armando Machado) &lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;[correcção de J.F.Castro]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115236550766653831?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115236550766653831/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115236550766653831' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115236550766653831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115236550766653831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm009-eu-ela-e-o-fado-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM009 - Eu, Ela e o Fado (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115220029562280378</id><published>2006-07-06T16:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-10T20:54:46.576+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM008 - Eu Quero (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;Eu Quero&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Eu quero, eu sei o que quero&lt;br /&gt;A vida pra mim é assim&lt;br /&gt;Eu quero, eu sei onde vou, eu quero&lt;/p&gt;          &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;Mas não quero nem tolero&lt;br /&gt;Que possas julgar de mim&lt;br /&gt;Tudo aquilo que não sou, não quero&lt;/p&gt;         &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero seguir o caminho da verdade&lt;br /&gt;Deus queira, que este amor seja sincero&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Se for caminho errado&lt;br /&gt;Será mais um pecado&lt;br /&gt;E amor por caridade, não quero&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                               &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escuta, medita, tem calma&lt;br /&gt;Eu quero chamar-te à razão&lt;br /&gt;Não quero desdém nem ciúme, não quero&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;O fogo que tens na alma&lt;br /&gt;Faz queimar meu coração&lt;br /&gt;Quero apagar esse lume, eu quero&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero seguir o caminho da verdade&lt;br /&gt;Deus queira, que este amor seja sincero&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Se for caminho errado&lt;br /&gt;Será mais um pecado&lt;br /&gt;E amor por caridade, não quero&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;(Júlio Vieitas)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115220029562280378?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115220029562280378/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115220029562280378' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115220029562280378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115220029562280378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm008-eu-quero-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM008 - Eu Quero (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115211999766290292</id><published>2006-07-05T18:18:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-11T00:54:53.033+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM007 - Eterno Desejo (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="title"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; text-decoration: underline;"&gt;Eterno Desejo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se já nada me resta, Que mais queres tu de mim&lt;br /&gt;Deixa-me apenas só, Entregue à minha dor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Se o fantasma remorso, Não me fala de ti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Não queiras reviver, O que foi nosso amor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Deixa que a luz se apague, Impávida e serena&lt;br /&gt;Na triste solidão, Da estranha melodia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;   &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Que nem a noite veja, Alucinante cena&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Que foi prazer dum ano, E calvário dum dia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Não lhe chames saudade, Mas sim amor perdido&lt;br /&gt;Que tudo se desfez, Num sonho amargurado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Meu pobre coração, De ti já está esquecido&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;E canta agora triste, Sem fé resignado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Deixa que seja eu, A matar o passado&lt;br /&gt;A dispersar as cinzas, Desse eterno desejo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Depois de tudo morto, Só nos resta o bocado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Do calor que ficou, Do teu último beijo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fado Joaquim Campos 4ªs - (João Gomes / Joaquim Campos)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115211999766290292?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115211999766290292/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115211999766290292' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115211999766290292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115211999766290292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm007-eterno-desejo-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM007 - Eterno Desejo (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115211985110746481</id><published>2006-07-05T18:16:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-11T00:55:15.526+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM006 - Enigma (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; text-decoration: underline;"&gt;Enigma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Das horas perco a noção&lt;br /&gt;Assim que a noite declina&lt;br /&gt;Prá madrugada chegar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Envolto na escuridão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Procuro sempre uma esquina&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Só para te ver passar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Quero dizer que te amo&lt;br /&gt;Mas qual sombra fugidia&lt;br /&gt;Passas por mim descuidada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Quando a tua imagem chamo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;À luz divina do dia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;É tudo sombra e mais nada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Por isso sem que me afoite&lt;br /&gt;Em passar de noite à rua&lt;br /&gt;Onde em má hora te vi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Procuro as sombras da noite&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Então escondido da lua&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Eu canto pensando em ti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Quem sou, quem és, não importa&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou mais um que suporta&lt;br /&gt;Um amor inconfessado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;E tu com esse amor esquivo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Serás o doce motivo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Que m’inspirou este Fado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fado Zé Negro - (José Negro / Domingos Gonçalves Costa)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115211985110746481?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115211985110746481/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115211985110746481' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115211985110746481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115211985110746481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm006-enigma-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM006 - Enigma (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115211970530492946</id><published>2006-07-05T18:13:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-14T00:14:52.800+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM005 - Divino Sol (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; text-decoration: underline;"&gt;Divino Sol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem nasceu neste cantinho&lt;br /&gt;Coberto de azul dos céus&lt;br /&gt;Tem amor pão e carinho&lt;br /&gt;E tem a bênção de Deus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O povo é franco mas pobre&lt;br /&gt;E tem a grande riqueza&lt;br /&gt;Do sol bendito que cobre&lt;br /&gt;Esta terra portuguesa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;Este sol de Portugal&lt;br /&gt;Não tem rival&lt;br /&gt;No mundo inteiro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Divino manto de luz&lt;br /&gt;Que até seduz&lt;br /&gt;Qualquer estrangeiro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na terra não há pintor&lt;br /&gt;Que lhe dê cor&lt;br /&gt;Tão milagrosa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pra ser mais linda e real&lt;br /&gt;É Portugal&lt;br /&gt;Em cor de rosa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Do Algarve até ao Minho&lt;br /&gt;Há bailados e cantigas&lt;br /&gt;Seja um Vira, um Corridinho&lt;br /&gt;Na graça das raparigas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seja em Lisboa ou Coimbra&lt;br /&gt;No Porto, ou em qualquer lado&lt;br /&gt;Há sempre uma voz que timbra&lt;br /&gt;A nostalgia dum fado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;(Júlio Vieitas)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115211970530492946?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115211970530492946/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115211970530492946' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115211970530492946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115211970530492946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm005-divino-sol-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM005 - Divino Sol (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115211926446788068</id><published>2006-07-05T17:50:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-11T00:55:51.740+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM004 - Biografia do Fado (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; text-decoration: underline;"&gt;Biografia do Fado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perguntam-me p’lo Fado, Eu conheci-o:&lt;br /&gt;Era um ébrio, era um vadio, Que andava pla Mouraria&lt;br /&gt;Talvez inda mais magro que um cão galgo&lt;br /&gt;A dizer que era fidalgo, Por andar com a fidalguia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seu pai era um enjeitado, Que até andou embarcado, Nas caravelas do Gama&lt;br /&gt;Um malandro andrajado e sujo, Mais gingão do que um marujo, Dos velhos becos de Alfama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;em style=""&gt;Pois eu, Sei bem onde ele nasceu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;em style=""&gt;Que não passou de um plebeu, Sempre a puxar p’ra vaidade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em style=""&gt;Sei mais, Sei que o Fado é um dos tais&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em style=""&gt;Que não conheceu os pais, Nem tem certidão de idade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Perguntam-me por ele, Eu conheci-o:&lt;br /&gt;Num perfeito desvario, Sempre amigo da balbúrdia&lt;br /&gt;Entrava na Moirama a horas mortas, E ao abrir as meias portas, Era o rei daquela estúrdia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Foi às esperas de gado, Foi cavaleiro afamado, Era o delírio no Entrudo&lt;br /&gt;E dessa vida agitada, Ele que veio do nada, Não sendo nada era tudo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em style=""&gt;Pois eu, Sei bem onde ele nasceu,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em style=""&gt;Que não passou de um plebeu, Sempre a puxar p’ra vaidade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em style=""&gt;Sei mais, Sei que o Fado é um dos tais&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em style=""&gt;Que não conheceu os pais, Nem tem certidão de idade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;(Frederico de Brito)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115211926446788068?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115211926446788068/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115211926446788068' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115211926446788068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115211926446788068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm004-biografia-do-fado-fernando.html' title='FM004 - Biografia do Fado (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115211816933734215</id><published>2006-07-05T17:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-11T00:56:10.926+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM003 - Bater do Coração (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; text-decoration: underline;"&gt;Bater do Coração&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Era amor o que sentia, francamente. Não era desejo não, martírio infindo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Era amor que te trazia, docemente, No bater do coração, num sonho lindo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se tivesses coração, dentro do peito, Decerto sabias já, mas não te ralas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Já sabias a razão, e qual o jeito, Das pancadas que o meu dá, quando me falas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bater sempre a bater, se faz loucuras, Se diz sim ou se diz não, bate também&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Vá lá a gente entender, certas alturas, O bater do coração, se adora alguém&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ensinei meu coração, sem fingimento, Uma vez a dizer sim, à despedida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ele teimou disse não, nesse momento, E tu fugiste de mim, pra toda a vida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fado Versículo - (Alfredo Marceneiro / Moita Girão)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115211816933734215?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115211816933734215/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115211816933734215' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115211816933734215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115211816933734215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm003-bater-do-corao-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM003 - Bater do Coração (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115211796157926948</id><published>2006-07-05T17:44:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-11T00:56:28.706+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM002 - Basta Coração (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; text-decoration: underline;"&gt;Basta Coração&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma promessa, um sorriso, Um leve aperto de mão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;E nada mais é preciso, Pra prender um coração&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Uma esperança que se afaga, Nunca morre num repente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;O lume quando se apaga, Deixa sempre cinza quente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Não há nada que mais doa, Nem que mais faça sofrer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Do que amar uma pessoa, Que nem sequer nos quer ver&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A saudade mais sentida, Mais profunda creio eu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;É sentir dentro da vida, O amor que já morreu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fado Solene - (Moita Girão / Alberto Correia)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115211796157926948?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115211796157926948/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115211796157926948' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115211796157926948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115211796157926948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm002-basta-corao-fernando-maurcio.html' title='FM002 - Basta Coração (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115211778836260714</id><published>2006-07-05T17:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-14T00:20:06.703+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FM001 - Alfama (Fernando Maurício)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; text-decoration: underline;"&gt;Alfama&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Alfama bairro velhinho, monumento de saudade, sacrário de tradições&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Tens um lugar de carinho, e de sincera amizade, nas minhas recordações&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bairro de gente do mar, de varinas e marinheiros, são fruto que nos dás&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Honrados no trabalhar, alegres e galhofeiros, no descanso e boa paz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando tem uma tristeza, no coração magoado, cantando a sabes dizer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;O teu fado é uma reza, e desabafas num fado, a razão do teu sofrer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usando por garridice, craveiros a enfeitar, o beco mais recatado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;És mais velha que a velhice, mais marinheira que o mar, e mais fadista que o fado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fado Correeiro - (A. Correeiro / A. Sobral)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;font&gt;Link para ouvir um pouco Fernando Maurício em Alfama: http://lisboa.kpnqwest.pt/audio/fado/alfama.au&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lisboa.kpnqwest.pt/audio/fado/alfama.au"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115211778836260714?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115211778836260714/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115211778836260714' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115211778836260714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115211778836260714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fm001-alfama-fernando-maurcio_05.html' title='FM001 - Alfama (Fernando Maurício)'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115211747318984976</id><published>2006-07-05T17:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-11T04:11:20.283+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Fernando Maurício, um pouco da sua história</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="title"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" style="border-color: black;" src="http://atrompa.com.sapo.pt/mauricio.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; Data de Nascimento: 21-11-1933&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  Local de Nascimento: Mouraria, Lisboa&lt;br /&gt;Data de Falecimento: 15-07-2003&lt;br /&gt;País de Origem: Portugal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natural do Bairro da Mouraria, em Lisboa, o fadista Fernando Maurício nasceu no dia 21 de Novembro de 1933, e é hoje considerado por muitos conhecedores da especialidade como o maior fadista da sua geração, apesar do seu descuido perante a necessidade de uma carreira discografica. Revelando, desde cedo, os seus dotes para o mundo do espectáculo, foi com apenas treze anos que se sagrou em terceiro lugar no concurso "João Maria dos Anjos". Nessa altura, obteve uma autorização a título excepcional da Inspecção de Espectáculos, e pôde assim dar início à sua actividade musical a nível profissional.&lt;br /&gt;Cantou regularmente durante um período de três anos, no Café Latino, bem como n'Os Marialvas e no Vera Cruz, no entanto quando contava dezassete anos resolveu interromper a actividade, que só retomou em 1954, no Café Luso.&lt;br /&gt;Fernando Maurício participou nos primeiros programas da RTP experimental, bem como no terceiro a ser transmitido e, em 1969, foi distinguido com o Prémio da Imprensa. Em Maio de 2001, no Coliseu, foi agraciado pelo Presidente da República, com a Comenda da Ordem de Mérito.&lt;br /&gt;Faleceu a 15 de Julho de 2003 no Hospital dos Capuchos, em Lisboa, vítima de uma trombose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;in cotonete.clix.pt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115211747318984976?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115211747318984976/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115211747318984976' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115211747318984976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115211747318984976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/fernando-maurcio-um-pouco-da-sua.html' title='Fernando Maurício, um pouco da sua história'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30692872.post-115211679099447697</id><published>2006-07-05T17:24:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-05T17:35:22.333+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O Rei do Fado "Fernando Maurício"</title><content type='html'>Pretendo editar todos os poemas cantados por Fernando Maurício e outros artistas. Consoante o seu nome terão várias designações. Neste caso a designação será FM???.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30692872-115211679099447697?l=fadistao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/feeds/115211679099447697/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30692872&amp;postID=115211679099447697' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115211679099447697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30692872/posts/default/115211679099447697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fadistao.blogspot.com/2006/07/o-rei-do-fado-fernando-maurcio.html' title='O Rei do Fado &quot;Fernando Maurício&quot;'/><author><name>O Fadista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03580288331275503325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/502/3297/1600/antiga%20Zeca.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
