No carreiro das baleas

 

𝑶 𝑪𝑨𝑹𝑹𝑬𝑰𝑹𝑶 𝑫𝑨𝑺 𝑩𝑨𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑺

 

𝑶𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒔 𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒓, 𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝒍𝒆𝒗𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒐 𝒊𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒂𝒔 𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒄𝒊́𝒂𝒔 𝒅𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒔,

𝒖́ 𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒄𝒖𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒏, 𝒏𝒐 𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒒𝒖𝒆, 𝒐𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒏̃𝒐𝒔 𝒅𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏̃𝒆𝒊𝒓𝒐.

 

𝑹𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒊𝒔, 𝒂𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒔, 𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝒔𝒆 𝒆𝒔𝒗𝒂𝒆𝒏, 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊-𝒍𝒂 𝒍𝒖𝒛 𝒅𝒂 𝒍𝒖́𝒂,

𝒄𝒐𝒂 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒈𝒂 𝒅𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔 𝒏𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒊𝒓𝒐

𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒆 𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒅𝒂𝒔 𝑳𝒂𝒙𝒂𝒔 𝒆 𝒐 𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒆 𝑵𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒐,

𝒂𝒍𝒊́, 𝒂𝒍𝒊́ 𝒔𝒆 𝒆𝒔𝒏𝒂𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒛𝒂𝒏, 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒂𝒔, 𝒂𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒔

𝒎𝒖𝒙𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐  𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒊𝒐 𝒂𝒐 𝒃𝒂𝒊𝒙𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒐.

 

𝑶𝒏𝒅𝒆 𝒆𝒖 𝒗𝒐𝒖, 𝒔𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒓𝒆 𝒗𝒆́𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒐, 𝒂𝒐 𝒈𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒐, 𝒆 𝒏𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆,

𝒄𝒐𝒔 𝒕𝒆𝒖𝒔 𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒔 𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒓 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐 𝒂𝒐 𝒊𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒐.

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𝑨 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒂, 𝒇𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒆, 𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒆 𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒆́𝒔, 𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒂 𝒅𝒆𝒃𝒖𝒙𝒐𝒔, 𝒂𝒃𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒔,

𝒅𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒓, 𝒏𝒐𝒔 𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒓𝒐𝒔 𝒅𝒂 𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂 𝒅𝒆𝒃𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐 𝒐𝒔 𝒎𝒆𝒖𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒏̃𝒐𝒔

𝒏𝒂𝒔 𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒄𝒊́𝒂𝒔 𝒅𝒐𝒔 𝒕𝒆𝒖𝒔 𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒔 𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒓.

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𝑨𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒎𝒊𝒏̃𝒂 𝒐 𝒂𝒓, 𝒄𝒖𝒏 𝒄𝒉𝒊́𝒐, 𝒐 𝒃𝒖𝒙𝒂𝒕𝒐. 𝑹𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒍𝒈𝒂𝒅𝒐

𝒅𝒐 𝒊𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒓 𝒅𝒐𝒔 𝒕𝒆𝒖𝒔 𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒔 𝒏𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒖́𝒂𝒔 𝒂́𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒙𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒂𝒔.

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𝑪𝒐𝒂 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒂, 𝒇𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒆, 𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒆́𝒔 𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒂 𝒅𝒆𝒃𝒖𝒙𝒐𝒔 𝒂𝒃𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒔,

𝒓𝒆𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒙𝒐𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒅𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒔 𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒓𝒐𝒔 𝒅𝒂 𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂

𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒔 𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒅𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒐.

𝑯𝒖́𝒎𝒊𝒅𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒍𝒈𝒂𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒂𝒔 𝒂́𝒔 𝒐 𝒃𝒖𝒙𝒂𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒎𝒊𝒏̃𝒂 𝒐 𝒂𝒓.

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𝑨𝒐 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒂𝒓 𝒑𝒐𝒍𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒊𝒓𝒐 𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒔 𝑳𝒂𝒙𝒂𝒔 𝒆 𝒐 𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒆 𝑵𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒐

𝒂 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒈𝒂, 𝒂𝒛𝒖𝒍, 𝒅𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒂𝒖́𝒅𝒂 𝒂𝒐 𝒍𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒂́𝒏,

𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒛𝒐𝒖 𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒓

𝒏𝒐 𝒄𝒂́𝒓𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒅𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒅𝒓𝒂 𝒅𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍.

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𝑹𝒆𝒙𝒆𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔 𝒏𝒂 𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂 𝒂 𝒐𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒂, 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒙𝒆𝒍𝒂, 𝒅𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒏̃𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒏,

𝒏𝒐𝒏 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒃𝒆𝒏 𝒅𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒍𝒐.

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𝑨𝒐 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒍𝒖́𝒔 𝒏𝒂 𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂 𝒅𝒐 𝒔𝒐𝒍 𝒅𝒐 𝒊𝒏𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒐,

𝒅𝒆𝒊𝒙𝒂́𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒎𝒆, 𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒙𝒊́𝒃𝒆𝒍, 𝒖𝒏𝒉𝒂 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒂𝒙𝒆,

𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒆, 𝒔𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒂, 𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒅𝒂 𝒏𝒐𝒔 𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒓𝒐𝒔

𝒄𝒐𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒆́𝒔, 𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒔 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒔, 𝒇𝒓𝒊́𝒐 𝒆 𝒄𝒆𝒊𝒃𝒆,

𝒏𝒂 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒈𝒂 𝒅𝒂 𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒅𝒂, 𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍,

𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒆 𝒑𝒐𝒍𝒐 𝒄𝒆𝒐 𝒑𝒖́𝒓𝒑𝒖𝒓𝒂,

𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒂  𝒖𝒏 𝒔𝒂𝒍𝒎𝒐, 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒂 𝒖𝒏𝒉𝒂 𝒔𝒂𝒍𝒎𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒂,

𝒆𝒏𝒇𝒆𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒛𝒂𝒅𝒂, 𝒏𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒂, 𝒆𝒏𝒙𝒆𝒍, 𝒎𝒐𝒊, 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆,

𝒂́ 𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒛𝒂 𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒓 𝒐𝒔 𝒐𝒄𝒐𝒔 𝒅𝒐 𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒐;

𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒐𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒔, 𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆 𝒆𝒔𝒗𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝒂 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒃𝒂 𝒏𝒐𝒏 𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒂 𝒅𝒂 𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒙𝒆,

𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒂 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔𝒂, 𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒂́𝒃𝒆𝒍, 𝒅𝒂 𝒄𝒐𝒓 𝒅𝒐 𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐 𝒍𝒊́𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒅𝒐.

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𝑺𝒂𝒊́𝒏𝒅𝒐 𝒑𝒐𝒍𝒐 𝒎𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒐 𝒅𝒐𝒔 𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒅𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒐 𝒅𝒂 𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂 𝒅𝒐 𝒄𝒂́𝒓𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒆

𝒗𝒂𝒏 𝒙𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒂 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒈𝒂 𝒂𝒛𝒖𝒍 𝒂𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒊𝒓𝒐 𝒅𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝒏𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒈𝒂-𝒍𝒂𝒔 𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒄𝒊́𝒂𝒔 𝒅𝒐 𝒊𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒐

𝒏𝒐𝒔 𝒕𝒆𝒖𝒔 𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒔 𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒓.

 

𝒙𝒂𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒛𝒂

𝑴𝒖𝒊́𝒏̃𝒐𝒔. 17032023