5 short contos for ler agora mesmo
Great stories can also be told in few lines! You will be happy to read, but not at a very low time, found or satisfied. We select, below, some of the contos you create that can be read in just a few minutes:
- O Disciple, by Oscar Wilde
- De Noite, by Franz Kafka
- A Beleza Total, by Carlos Drummond de Andrade
- Second ou terça-feira, by Virginia Woolf
- Perplexidade, by Maria Judite de Carvalho
1. O Disciple, by Oscar Wilde
When Narciso Morreu or lake of seu prazer moved from a cup of water to a cup of tears that came out, and as they prayed, it was time to kill him with the hope of singing and giving comfort to the lake.
And when they saw that the lake had changed from a cup of water to a cup of tears that came out, they letting go of the green tranças de seus hairs and crying out: "We understand you, you say, also for Narciso, you belo ele was."
"E Narciso was beautiful?", Disse or lake.
"What can I know-how horre you are?" "For us the bad passava, but you seek him, and deitava in his margens and olhava for you, and not spell of his waters and refletia his own beauty."
E o lago responded, "But Narcissus loves him because, when he deitava in minhas margens e olhava for me, I do not spell of seus olhos in via minha own refletida beauty."
Oscar Wilde (1854 - 1900) was an important Irish writer. Known, mainly, pelas suas peças de teatro e pelo romance O Portrait of Dorian Gray, or author also wrote various stories.
Or reference text or classical myth of Narcissus, or homem that turned off the own image, reflected in the lake, and ended up suffocating. Here, the story is told from the perspective of the lake. We perceive that he also loved Narcissus because he managed to straighten us out.
Assim, I have a brief outline of an interesting reflection on my own love: a possibility of we will try to ourselves, when we wrap ourselves as others.
2. De Noite, by Franz Kafka
Dive-se em a noite! Also, as sometimes it is buried in the head, I do not peito to reflet, melt-it is completely assimilated in a noite. Em redorm os homens. A little spectacle, an innocent self-made man, he or she sleeps in houses, in solid beds, safe, stretched out or covered, on mattresses, between lençóis, on covers; In reality, we find ourselves reunited as another time and as depois in a deserted region: a camping in the open, an incontainable quantity of people, an army, a Povo on a cold, on a cold terra, strapped to or only there before it was on the ground, with the front against the arm, and the face against or alone, breathing quietly. In your candles, it is a two watchers, you find the next waving or madeiro access that you took from the mountain of styles, next to you. Why candles? Someone had to watch, he said. Someone needs to be there.
Franz Kafka (1883 - 1924), born not formerly the Austrian-Hungarian Empire, was two of the greatest writers of the German language and has eternalized hairs of his romances and stories.
Our small narrative, a few days that were found in our hearts, is close to a poetic volume in prose. Refletindo on a noite e seu wakefulness, We can perceive the emotions of a solitary little subject, which remains agreed upon when all are asleep.
Some interpretations suggested that he did not contain autobiographical elements, since Kafka suffers from insônias, dedicating himself to breeding process literary.
3. To Beleza Total, by Drummond
The beauty of Gertrudes fascinated everyone and Gertrudes herself. We are shocked by her face, refusing to refer to the people at home and much less visits. Não ousavam abranger or corpo inteiro de Gertrudes. It was impossível, de tão belo, e o espelho do banheiro, that dared to do it, partiu-se in a thousand styles.
A moça já não could go out on the road, you have the vehicles for me to reveal two drivers, and these, for the time, lost all capacity to act. Houve a monstro engarrafamento, which lasted a week, embora Gertrudes houvesse turned logo for home.
The Senate approved an emergency law, Gertrudes prohibited from chegar à janela. A girl lived confined with no room in which only her mother would penetrate, pois or bite would commit suicide with a picture of Gertrudes on or peito.
Gertrudes couldn't do anything. Nascera assim, this was or was his fatal destiny: to extreme beauty. And he was happy, knowing-he was incomparable. For lack of pure ar, he ended his living conditions, and one day he closed the olhos forever. His beauty came out of the body and stopped, immortal. The body of Gertrudes has now been infected with Jazigo, and the beauty of Gertrudes continued to flash no date dated seven days ago.
Carlos Drummond de Andrade (1902 - 1987) was a notorious Brazilian writer of the second modernist era. Celebrated, especially, it peels his poetry, he also wrote great works of stories and chronicles.
No unexpected entanglement, we accompany or tragic fate from Gertrudes, a woman who ended up dying because she was "pretty demais". With mastery, or author, the history is used to tecer sociocultural reflections, ironizing and criticizing the world in which we live.
Many realities are often futile and marked by the domination of women, because of its beauty it can function as a bênção e uma curse, fazendo how they are controlled, watched and punished by isso.
4. Second ou terça-feira, by Virginia Woolf
Preguiçosa and indifferent, vibrating easily or space with its handles, conhecendo seu rumo, Garça overcomes igreja by baixo do céu. Branca and distant, absorbed in herself, she runs and turns to run or céu, advances and continues. Um lake? Turn off your margens! Uma montanha? Ah, perfect - o sol doura-lhe as margens. Lá ele se põe. Samambaias, ou white penalties forever and ever.
Wishing to be true, waiting, laboriously pouring out some words, forever wishing - (a shout echoa for a esquerda, another for a direita. Cars start diverging. Ônibus conglomerate-is in conflict) for always wanting - (with doze eminent beats, or relogio assures to be medium-day; to light it radiates tons of dourages; crianças fervilham) - forever desiring the true. O domo é vermelho; moedas dangle das arvores; a fumaça drag-se das chaminés; bark, berram, shout "Vende-se ferro!" - Is it true?
Radiating for a ponto, pes de homens e pes de mulheres, black and encrusted with ouro - (This cloudy tempo - Açúcar? Não, obrigado - a community of the future) - a darling girl, leaving and darkening or room, except the black figures with their Olhos bright, enquanto fora um caminhão unloads, Miss Fulana takes chá à Escrivaninha and vidraças conserve jackets of peel.
Tremulous, slight-folha, wandering we sing, breathed além das rodas, sprinkled with prata, at home or outside of home, Colhida, dissipated, wasted in different tons, varrida to the top, to the bottom, torn away, ruined, piled up - e a true?
Agora recolhida pela lareira, not square white marble. You give depths of marfim ascending words that you see in your blackness. Dropped or light; Na chama, I do not smoke, in momentary lights - or traveling ago, or square of hanging marble, minarets below and Indian seas, enquanto or espaço investe azul and stars, cintilam - true? Ou now, aware of reality?
Preguiçosa and indifferent, Garça retakes; or céu candle as stars; and so it reveals.
Virginia Woolf (1882 - 1941), English avant-garde writer and one of the most illustrious forerunners of modernism, stood out internationally with her romances, novels and stories.
Here we find a narrator who observe or everyday, a common day that can be second or third. Its history accompanies the movements of the city, or urban area crossed by the presence of a multitude of natural elements, such as a garça voando.
Whenever we see or what happens on the other side, we also glimpse the thoughts and emotions of this person who barely tested. It seems, then, to have some correspondence between the outer world and his inner, private and secret life, which we do not know.
5. Perplexidade, by Maria Judite de Carvalho
The child was perplexed. She has the older ones and the brighter than the other days, and a new, vertical one, among the brief sobrancelhas. «No percebo», she said.
In front of television, you country. Olhar for o small écran was a way from olharem um for o outro. More nessa noite, nem isso. Ela fazia tricô, ele tinha or open wage. Mas tricô e jornal eram alibís. Nessa noite recusavam the same or it is where the seus olhares were confused. A menina, porém, ainda não tinha idade for pretenses so adults and subtis, and, sitting no chão, she olhava facing, with all her soul. E então o olhar grande a rugazinha e aquilo de não perceber. "I don't perceive," she repeated.
"Or what do you do with barnacles?" disse a me by dizer, not fim da carreira, taking advantage of deixa to rip or noisy silence in that some espancava some with requintes of evil.
"Isto, for example."
"Isto or what"
Sei la. To life », disse a criança com seriedade.
Or pai dobrou or jornal, I wanted to know what was or problem that worried so much for years, even suddenly. As a costume he prepares to explain all the problems, arithmetic and others.
«What do you tell us not to make a lie.»
"No percebo."
"Pray, so much coisa. Tudo. I have thought a lot about... We say not to kill, not to batter. I did not drink alcohol, because I looked bad. E depois a televisão… You film us, advertise us… How is life, at the end? »
A mão long or tricô and engoliu em dry. O pai respirou founded as quem prepares for a difficult run.
"Ora vemos," disse ele olhando para o teto in search of inspiration. «To life ...»
But it was not as easy as isso falar do desrespeito, do desamor, do absurd that he oil as normal and that, years or years, he refused.
"To life ...", she repeated.
As agulhas do tricô tinham recommended to esvoaçar as past cut handles.
Maria Judite de Carvalho (1921 - 1998) was a notable author of Portuguese literature who mostly wrote works of contours. Or text that we present acima é passado num domestic dining room, with a family reunited in the living room.
A child, watching television, vai ficando every time confused, because the reality is very different from what she learns. A curiosity and inocência da menina contrasts with silent oil from your country, that you avoid such questões.
As adults and experienced, they know that life and the world are incomprehensible, full of hypocrisies and contradictions that we try not to think.
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