Sobre terra
que pisas.
Sob nuvem
que tocas.
És céu.
És terra.
És tu.
Pés assentes:
caminhas.
Caravelas voadoras:
sonhas.
Andas dias,
sonhas noites.
Dia: terra
Noite: céu
Buscas dia
o que noite sonhas.
Sonhas noite
o que dia buscas.
E eu?
Entre voos voados
caminhos caminhados.
E eu?
quarta-feira, 23 de junho de 2010
segunda-feira, 21 de junho de 2010
Sublimado terror.
Humanos somos
Fortes por fora, às vezes.
Fracos por dentro, sempre.
Erros temores
que não mostramos.
Vergonhas que escondemos
que vergonhas não são
que vergonha de sermos que somos.
Que somos humanos.
Livres, dizem uns.
Conscientes, outros.
Mas humanos somos.
De misérias cheios.
Horrores, vazios.
Sempre e sempre a superar.
Inconfesso desespero,
em obra sublimado.
Fortes por fora, às vezes.
Fracos por dentro, sempre.
Erros temores
que não mostramos.
Vergonhas que escondemos
que vergonhas não são
que vergonha de sermos que somos.
Que somos humanos.
Livres, dizem uns.
Conscientes, outros.
Mas humanos somos.
De misérias cheios.
Horrores, vazios.
Sempre e sempre a superar.
Inconfesso desespero,
em obra sublimado.
sexta-feira, 18 de junho de 2010
The Seagull Princess
Once upon time there was a princess. She was beautiful with very blue sweet eyes and everybody in the kingdom would love her, wasn’t the fact that she had an abnormal pair of wings on her back and in that kingdom anyone had wings; at least until Seagull was born, because that was the name her parents gave to her. Seagull’s father and mother and brother loved her very much. But they understood that they could not keep the winged princess with them. After all, no one in the kingdom was ready to accept such a princess. That’s why one day they called her to the throne room and told her that, since she had wings, she should fly away.
And she flew. And flew. And flew.
And she flew. And flew. And flew.
In the beginning of her journey she was not really sad. It’s true that she loved father and mother and brother. Of course she did. But she had wings. And having wings she knew that one day she would have to fly. May be the wings on her back were only a metaphor of the wings in her head. And if that was so: maybe that’s the reason why she flew away with any sorrow in her heart; even considering her love for father and mother and brother. Or may be that the wings in her head where also just a metaphor: a metaphor of the wings in her heart. Who can possible know? After all, in the entire Story of that kingdom anyone had borne with wings.
And Seagull flew and flew and flew.
Still, even a seagull needs land to break flies. And Seagull couldn't find any land. She was flying for one hundred years when she thought that she couldn’t stand it anymore. And when she was almost abdicating: she found an island in the far horizon. And she was so tired. And the Island was so far. But she found strong enough in her wings or head or heart, and she flew to the island.
The island.
The island was very small. So small that she couldn’t open both wings without wet its extremities. But it had fresh water and some food. Not too many water neither too many food. But water and food enough for an one-hundred-years-flying-Seagull drink and eat.
In the island lived a big old prophet. No one could explain how could such a big man live in such a small island. That explanation was not written and that’s why we cannot know it. May be the big prophet was big only in his insid and the small island small only in its outside. Who knows?
The important is that he knew everything about the Seagull princess, what shouldn’t admire us since we know how big the prophet was.
Understanding how the prophet knew her, Seagull asked him if she could stay there, in the island and with him. And it was with a sorrow in his eyes that the prophet told her that that was not possible, since he was too old and he didn’t even knew if the island and himself existed (at least in that way we use to say to be the reality) or if they where only a dream in Seagull’s mind.
Seagull insisted and told him how hard had been to fly for one hundred years and told him that a Seagull cannot fly if she has not her island; her piece of secure land. The prophet compassionated the princess and he told her that she couldn’t stay in the island, but he would give her a map and also told her that it was a magic map and that through the map she would find her island with a palace and a prince who would marry her.
Seagull asked the prophet how could she know if any island would be the right island and any prince would be the right prince. And the prophet told her just to fly and she would find a way to discover that. “The important is that you fly”, he told her. And she flew and she was happy because she knew that, at least, now she had a map which would bring her to her piece of land.
And it was following the map that she found her first island. And also her first prince who has become so in love for her, that he asked her to stay; what she did, thinking that that were the island and prince the old prophet had promised her. “At last I have my piece of firm land to land between my flies”, she thought.
It was to late when she understood that the soil in that island had a kind of power that made people be heavy and heavy and heavy. And because of that she couldn’t fly. She couldn’t understand how was that possible. After all, the Prophet had promised her an island and a prince and now that she had found both, she couldn’t fly.
One day she looked through the door of a forbidden room and she understood the why of that. The prince was jealous of her wings and in that room he had a gravity machine he used in order to make everything be so heavy that Seagull couldn’t ever fly. And after she understood that: she looked again to the map the prophet had offered her and she understood that she had been following it having the east to the west and the west to the east. And it was in that very moment that she decided to run away.
When the prince was sleeping she came in the forbidden room and destroyed the gravity machine and flew again with the map in her hands; this time with the west to the west.
When she arrived west, she become very confused because that was not just an island with just a prince, but a continent with several palaces and several princes. “How can I know what is the right palace and who is the right prince? The right piece of firm land?”, she thought. And that was when she remembered that the prophet had told her that she would find a way to discover that. And being absolutely sure of that, she decided to stop in all the palaces she would find until the one she would discover to be the right and with the right prince.
It was not difficult to find the first one, since the princes with their palaces where so many in there. Besides, there were not to many princesses in all that land and for that reason all the princes received Seagull as the princess she was and offered her their piece of land to live, as offered themselves to marry. And Seagull didn’t know how she could discover the way to find the right prince. But instinctively she found a way, may be by illumination of the prophet.
When the princes talked her about staying and marring and sharing the very same bed, she always told them that she had other prince and that she wouldn’t mind to have another, if he didn’t worry about sharing her with the other one. All the princes answered her that they wouldn’t mind. And Seagull understood that that was not her promiseds prince and land. And she told them that after the sun had gone down she would appear in their rooms to sleep with them. But in spite of that, she climbed to the roof of the palace and she flew away. In some way she understood that those princes would ever be her firm piece of land: the one where she could safely land between her flies.
And again and again and again: all the princes of that territory answered wrongly to the right question. And Seagull flew away and flew away and flew away. She was almost giving up. But she couldn’t forget the promise of the prophet. So, she didn’t stop her trip, her search.
And one day it happened. One prince at last answered her that he would can ever share her with any other prince, and that if that were to be the rolls, then he rather would lost her even loving her so much. In that very instant she become so happy that she couldn’t know how to manage the situation. And when the prince was turning back to go away convicted that he had lost her forever, she saw that also him: also him was winged. And she understood how right the old prophet was. And so she called the prince.
And it’s told that in that very night the prophet was dead. Dead with a smile on his face: knowing his prophecy was done.
Seagull and the prince started to live together in a house with big windows and doors and fresh air and pure water and a garden abundant with fruits and berries. And she could fly around from one room to another with enough space for her wings.
One day, at a dinner with the prince, she suddenly saw another woman sitting next to her. And the day after she saw the reflection of one other woman on the water of the pond. And from then on she met them every day and every night - at the table, in the mirror, even in their bed. They were all similar to her but she didn't knew them. And then she realized that the prince became so obsessed with his love to her that he created all these images and he talked to them and kissed them and touched them tenderly...
Seagull became terrified. She didn't have enough space for her wings anymore, she hurt them and couldn't fly. And she sat on a windowsill looking on a big cherry tree in the garden.
Seeing her, the prince was terrified because he felt he would lose her. But Seagull told him that if he loved her so much he should let her go and be free. And she would always came back to him, but now she was spending so much time in that house that she forgot how to be free, to be herself.
In a stare, the prince understood everything. He understood that if they were to share de same piece of land, they could not share the same flies, or they would became so heavy of love that neither he or she would fly again. Understanding that, the prince opened the window of the balcony and Seagull took all her power and all her will and flew to the cherry tree. And she from the tree and him from the balcony, flow in opposite directions, knowing that now they could share the same palace, the same piece of secure land. And in that very precise moment, they heard the voice of the prophet... or was it just the rustling of their wings?... The prophecy was at last realized.
Luís Novais
Criança ser.
Quem és?
Homem, mulher serás.
Mas.
Quem és?
Que vês?
Que sentes?
Que mund’é teu mundo?
Que vid’é tua vida?
Qu’ eu é teu eu?
Qu’ outro é teu outro?
Dramas, alegrias;
risos, choros;
quereres, paixões.
Quem és?
Ó vã pergunta: quem és?
De quem foi o qu’és.
Quem adulto se fazendo
Inseguro se houve:
Medo:
Indesvendáveis desvendar;
falsas certezas querer.
Bojadores, Tormentas passar.
Navegar navegar navegar.
E tu? rapaz, menina, criança:
Quem és?
(aos meus filhos. Os havidos e os a haver)
Homem, mulher serás.
Mas.
Quem és?
Que vês?
Que sentes?
Que mund’é teu mundo?
Que vid’é tua vida?
Qu’ eu é teu eu?
Qu’ outro é teu outro?
Dramas, alegrias;
risos, choros;
quereres, paixões.
Quem és?
Ó vã pergunta: quem és?
De quem foi o qu’és.
Quem adulto se fazendo
Inseguro se houve:
Medo:
Indesvendáveis desvendar;
falsas certezas querer.
Bojadores, Tormentas passar.
Navegar navegar navegar.
E tu? rapaz, menina, criança:
Quem és?
(aos meus filhos. Os havidos e os a haver)
quinta-feira, 3 de junho de 2010
Condenação
Condenação teremos
à livre liberdade,
à vida viver.
Precessão ?
Pois s’a livre condenado,
a viver menos não sou.
Regras m’ avassalem,
grilhões me prendam;
liberdade roubem,
vida me mantenham.
Precessão?
Ó sublime ideia, essa.
Essa para mim quero.
S’a livre condenado estar,
a vida que precede a me limitar.
Precessão!
Condenado sim.
Livre e morto,
preso e vivo.
Choro e sorrio,
em paradoxo iludido.
à livre liberdade,
à vida viver.
Precessão ?
Pois s’a livre condenado,
a viver menos não sou.
Regras m’ avassalem,
grilhões me prendam;
liberdade roubem,
vida me mantenham.
Precessão?
Ó sublime ideia, essa.
Essa para mim quero.
S’a livre condenado estar,
a vida que precede a me limitar.
Precessão!
Condenado sim.
Livre e morto,
preso e vivo.
Choro e sorrio,
em paradoxo iludido.
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