terça-feira, 19 de janeiro de 2021

"Se l'anima perde il suo dono allora perde terreno, se l'inferno
è una cosa certa, allora l'Abissinia della mia anima rinasce.
Se l'alba decide di morire, allora il fiume delle nostre
lacrime si allarga, e la voce di Dio rimane contemplata.
Se l'anima è ritrosia dei sensi, allora l'amore è una
scienza che cade al primo venuto. Se l'anima vende il suo
bagaglio allora l'inchiostro è un paradiso. Se l'anima
scende dal suo gradino, la terra muore.

Io contemplo gli uccelli che cantano ma la mia anima è
triste come il soldato in guerra."

[Amelia Rosselli]

Fortaleza de São José da Ponta Grossa
(Florianópolis, 2019)


segunda-feira, 18 de janeiro de 2021

A mim que desde a infância venho vindo
como se o meu destino
fosse o exato destino de uma estrela
apelam incríveis coisas:
pintar as unhas, descobrir a nuca,
piscar os olhos, beber.
Tomo o nome de Deus num vão.
Descobri que a seu tempo
vão me chorar e esquecer.

[Adélia Prado]

sábado, 16 de janeiro de 2021

How to be alone

If you are, at first, lonely - be patient.
If you've not been alone much or if, when you were, you weren't okay with it then just wait,
you'll find it's fine to be alone...
once you're embracing it.

We could start with the acceptable places: the bathroom, the coffee shop, the library.
Where you can stall and read the paper,
where you can get your caffeine fix and sit and stay there,

where you can browse the stacks and smell the books
you're not supposed to talk much anyway,
so it's safe there.

There's also the gym.
If you're shy you can hang out with yourself in the mirrors, you can put headphones in.
And there's public transportation
- because we all gotta go places -
and there's prayer and meditation
no one will think less if you're hanging out with your breath
seeking peace and salvation.

Start simple,
things you may have previously avoided based on your avoid-being-alone principles.
The lunch counter, where you will be surrounded by chow-downers,
employees that only have an hour
and their spouses work across town
and so they, like you, will be alone.
Resist the urge to hang out with your cell phone.

When you are comfortable with eat-lunch-and-run, take yourself out for dinner,
a restaurant with linen and silverware.
You're no less intriguing a person when you're eating solo dessert
and cleaning the whipped cream from the dish with your finger;
in fact, some people at full tables will wish they were where you were.

Go to the movies
where it is dark and soothing
alone in your seat amidst a fleeting community.

And, then, take yourself out dancing,
to a club where no one knows you
stand on the outside of the floor
until the lights convince you more and more
and the music shows you.
Dance like no one's watching
('cause they are probably not)
and, if they are, assume it is with best and human intentions,
the way bodies move genuinely to beats is, after all, gorgeous and affecting.
Dance until you're sweating
and beads of perspiration remind you of life's best things,
down your back like a brook of blessings.

Go to the woods alone and the trees and squirrels will watch for you.
Go to an unfamiliar city, roam the streets,
there are always statues to talk to

and benches made for sitting
give strangers a shared existence
if only for a minute
and these moments can be so uplifting
and the conversations that you get in
by sitting alone on benches
might have never happened
had you not been there by yourself.

Society is afraid of alone though,
like lonely hearts are wasting away in basements,
like people must have problems if, after awhile, nobody is dating them

But alone is a freedom that breathes easy and weightless
and lonely is healing if you make it.

You could stand, swathed by groups and mobs or hold hands with your partner
look both further and farther
in the endless quest for company,
but no one's in your head
and by the time you translate your thoughts some essence of them may be lost
or perhaps it is just kept,
perhaps in the interest of loving oneself,
perhaps all of those sappy slogans
from preschool over
to high school's groaning
were tokens for holding the lonely at bay.
'cause if you're happy in your head then solitude is blessed and alone is okay.

It's okay if no one believes like you
all experiences unique, no one has the same synapses
can't think like you
for this be relieved,
keeps it interesting, life's magic things in reach.

And it doesn't mean you aren't connected, that community's not present.
Just take the perspective you get
from being one person alone in one head
and feel the effects of it

Take silence and respect it.
If you have an art that needs a practice, stop neglecting it.
If your family doesn't get you
or a religious sect is not meant for you
don't obsess about it.

You could be, in an instant, surrounded, if you need it.
If your heart is bleeding make the best of it

there is heat in freezing, be a testament

[Tanya Davis]

18 de abril de 2013

 Nous parlons en silence d'une jeunesse vieille.

— Jacques Brel

Faço hoje quarenta e um anos e estou sozinho na casa onde descobri o medo. A música ajuda, mas não salve — até porque nada salva. Nunca pensei vir a reafirmar, com esta idade, uma certeza tão antiga. Pois o medo foi, de facto, a minha primeira grande descoberta. Confundia-se com o corredor vazio, com a estrada de alcatrão que fazia estremecer a janela do meu quarto, entranhava as páginas lidas e relidas d'O Conde de Monte Cristo ou de Nossa Senhora de Paris.

*

Para me distrair, tento perceber o caminho, fazendo uma espécie de balanço. Talvez nem me devesse queixar. Com ou sem talento, fui ou sou tudo o que vagamente desejei: poeta, crítico, editor, barman, livreiro e tradutor. De um modo quase sempre bastante heterodoxo, é certo. E tive amigos, conheci de perto o amor. Também houve falsos amigos, traições, os piores enganos. Não me ficou, de tudo isso, rancor nem arrependimento; senti antes que um filtro, implacável, me veio trazer o seu auxílio.

*

Socorre-me hoje a companhia de Frank e de Jojo, testemunhas involuntárias dos meus anos selvagens. Mas o dia poderia resumir-se ao gelado de amêndoa que levei à minha mãe, ainda no hospital, e à tua imagem, sentada no banco mais triste da cidade e reflectida na janela do comboio das 21h48, que partiu irremediavelmente. Foi assim, póstumo e sem ti, que reencontrei o medo.


[Manuel de Freitas]

quinta-feira, 14 de janeiro de 2021

Explosões

sentada à minha frente, nas cadeiras que habitam a varanda de casa, os olhos de mariana tomam uma cor diferente da usual. como pode mariana imaginar que, daqui uns duzentos dias, irei esquecê-la? me aproximei. sentada à minha frente, mariana disse que, às vezes, se sente tão próxima de mim que parece estar dos dois lados do beijo. Achei aquilo bonito, pedi que repetisse. ela:

– às vezes me sinto tão próxima de você que parece que estou dos dois lados do beijo.

e aqueles olhos todos, dois fuzis.

[Helena Zelic, da newsletter Ponto sem nó]

sexta-feira, 8 de janeiro de 2021

Il tuo silenzio
dici
è pieno di me

Così so
come si sentono i morti
pensati dai vivi

[Michele Mari]

One art

The art of losing isn’t hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster. Lose some...