sexta-feira, 9 de setembro de 2016

-I-

para sempre há de ser e será

teu olhar no meu olhar

minhas pernas entre as tuas pernas

sob um só lençol nossos corpos


-II-incompleto


por mais que te escreva e descreva

sempre restará um poema a ser escrito

um enigma a ser decifrado

uma palavra por ser dita

uma lágrima que eu ainda não tenha vertido

ou que não tenha te feito verter

um sorriso que ainda não tenhas me me feito

uma declaração que não ousei

uma ousadia que jamais haverei de declarar


-III-tola vingança


pedaços de mim

espalhados no chão em que pisas

sujam de sangue teus saltos

sem desviar teus passos


-IV-De tantas verdade e mentiras


Sou uma verdade

que um dia me menti

e de tanto repetir

acabei acreditando

és um mentira

que julguei ser verdade

pois só o tempo abre os olhos

velados pela luz


-V- Desencontro


Ela tanto me esperou

que virou pó

dissolveu-se no vento

depôs-se em meu caminho

e sujou meu sapato


(Meu reino por um engraxate)

-VI-


Neste túmulo

muitos sonhos

jazem

enterrados


-VII-

Quero a ventura

de três amanheceres

: o Sol despontando no horizonte

e seu reflexo duplicado

nos teus olhos despertos

VIII- CREDO


creio

piamente

em tua boca

e no céu

que lá existe


(único céu

que ainda me resta

: o outro

para sempre

jaz perdido)


creio no santo poder

dos teu olhos

sobre meu ser

(dos meus

inconfessáveis pecados

faz be-atos)


sob a luz

que emanas

em meu caminho

tudo é sagrado

mas se na escuridão

de tua lamentada ausência

trevas


(só a luz do teu olhar

acende meus faróis)


creio sobretudo

na divindade

de tua pélvis


(apaixonadamente

ali mergulho

: batismo de sangue)


teus olhos são-me guias

abrem olhos antes cegos

a verdade que mora em teu ser

dissipa nuvens eternas

do contumaz ceticismo

que me anuvia

derrete seu calor

neves sempre brancas do meu gelo


trocaria a eternidade

por um breve momento ao teu lado


e todas as minhas idades

vividas ou ainda por viver


todos beijos que já sonhei

por um único beijo teu


resignar-me-ia até à eterna dor

para ter um breve instante do teu amor

-IX-

não há mais flores
em teu sorriso
pois o inverno do tempo
abateu-te na primavera da vida
...em pleno vôo
asas engessadas
pendem inertes em cada lado
de teu corpo
prendem teus braços inermes os remos
nas aleivosias e escolhos do mar
a água cristalina
de teus olhos-lagos secou-te as margens

o que ainda resta de ti
fora um deserto escaldante
o frio congelante das geleiras
o brilho eterno e frio
de estrelas extintas?


-X-

Montanhas

Montanhas entortando o horizonte, entortando o céu que é plano. Deixando curvas nas dobras do mundo, criando vales e torrentes, recortando a terra, derrotando o igual, violando o tédio, violentando a esfera.

Esfera oca cheia de pontas, espinhos, carrapicho. Ali, nas montanhas, é que nascem os rios! E os rios transportam os sedimentos que adubam os solos, Solos com sede de sedimentos. Seres com sede de sentimentos. Eu com sede de ti. Nós com sede uns dos outros. Seres vivos com sede de vida.

Filhos! Resultado da sede que a vida tem de si mesma. Eu amo porque sou um rio com sede de rios, vida com sede de vida, rio e sede da vida, dos peixes, peixe com sede de peixes.


Sorvo cardumes de um só gole. Rios que são serpentes que se estendem nas planícies para tomar Sol.


Montanhas! Saiam da frente do meu Sol. O Sol é meu! O Sol é teu, é nosso.


Mas aqui, nesta parte que estou da Terra, pega uma luz do Sol que vem de uma parte do Sol que é minha, pois se sou dono da luz, sou dono da fonte desta luz. Sou dono de uma parte do Sol! Sol que ilumina montanhas escuras, florestas sombrias. Pelas frestas de tuas copas, floresta, deixas passar um pouco da luz do Sol. Mesmo que seja uma nesga, perdes um pouco de tuas sombras e o Sol perde uma da luz que o consome, mas os seres que te habitam ganham um pouco mais de vida.

Esta estranha relação que tens com o Sol me ensina que quando se perde algo em algum lugar, em algum tempo, necessariamente alguma outra coisa se ganha em algum outro lugar em algum outro tempo.


Não há ganho sem perda, nem perda sem ganho. Isto me faz conter meu desejo de ganho, por não querer provocar uma perda, isto me faz aceitar minhas perdas, pois houve ao mesmo tempo um ganho.


As montanhas desafiam com suas escarpas os alpinistas à escalada. Escalar montanhas, subir degraus, este nosso destino. Somos todos alpinistas. Havia uma montanha que nunca um alpinista ousara escalar. Mas aquele alpinista, ah, aquele alpinista, ousou. Suas chances de voltar eram mínimas, mas o que não é arriscado? Contra tudo, contra todos ele ousou. E fracassou na primeira tentativa, mas, depois daquele fracasso, ficou mais fácil escalar montanhas que antes eram difíceis.

Quem tenta o inalcançável pode conquistar outras coisas. Mas, se pensam que ele desistiu da escalada, estão enganados. Aquela montanha era a montanha da sua vida. Por nada deixaria escapar aquela conquista. Nem que fosse à custa de ossos quebrados ou da vida.


Se ele não tentasse de que valeria a vida. E errar não era problema. Ele errara outras vezes, nem por isto desistira, nem por isto se sentira derrotado. Haveria de chegar o momento da definitiva conquista. E ele tudo fazia, tudo conseguia, por ter um propósito.


Por isto mesmo nem vou dizer se ele conseguiu escalar ou não a montanha da sua vida. Nestas histórias vale mais a luta do que a conquista. Vencedor é aquele que enfrenta suas montanhas, não aqueles que a conquistam. A grande conquista é a conquista de si mesmo.





sexta-feira, 5 de agosto de 2016

Réstia de luz repousa
sobre o pó de mil dias
iluminando a cinza apagada
das memórias esquecidas

roupa de luz
sobre corpo de sombras
luz que guia
nas noites escuras
vestindo a roupa de luz
vou escutando os silêncios
das horas perdidas
cada sonho que se vive
é um dia que se ganha
cada sonho esquecido
é uma hora que se perde
- esquecer os pesadelos pode nos  salvar -
o que é a prudência de recuar
ante a ventura de se seguir adiante?


quinta-feira, 4 de agosto de 2016

The Mistery of the Society of Black Widows

I´m  trying to translate to english my short stories. If you find any error, could you please indicate to me?
This one is almost close, but I am correcting it gradually as I read again and again.



Part 1 - Death and Funeral

I'm not always afraid of spiders. It started a long time ago when I entered one day in the kitchen to raid the fridge or drink water and saw it, huge, spreading all its thousand hairy legs all over the wall and its thousand and one eyes looking in all directions that could point a rose of winds . Years later, to solidify my arachnophobia, I watched the movie of the same name and I was troubled and sleepless for many nights.

Today, I am here in my office exercising my detective activity, which is to expect a new case most part of the time and solve them the rest of the time, and while I wait, I'm remembering and taking notes about the most recent solved cases and, to confess, about those few cases that are not so few at all that I could never got close to the solution. One of them, unlike the most part, was happened completely by chance. As I was  doing something along the street or moving to somewhere I couldn't remember, there was caught my attention a man that was wearing a black suit and had in its finger a sparkling ring whose transparent stone contained an inert, sticky and venomous spider.
Suddenly, the guy dropped down dead as a doornail, spreading his huge and obese body trough the sidewalk, as well his arms and hands spreading its fingers in all directions one of them involved by such a ring and such a spider to which I referred before. For more disgust that caused me this spider, I must try help this poor man, immediately calling the emergency, although it had been late because he had suffered an instant death by a fatal heart stroke. I do not know why on earth, probably because of the mysterious ring and its strange inhabitant, I just made contact with his family and attended both the mournful wake and the sad funeral. The funeral took place the next day, a grey day pitied by the wind and wept by the rain as if the natural elements were also saddened by the mournful event. There was before the coffin was closed that I realized that the strange ring disappeared. I was sure that I had seen it on the dead's finger during his wake, but now I realized that was no longer there. Curious as I am, like any good detective should be, and note that my modesty does not prevent me to include me among these ones, I looked among those presents and noticed a little farther away, as if  he was following the funeral only by chance, a quite strange guy that seemed to want to be unnoticed and that wore on his finger a ring identical to the missing one. The ring shone brightly, showing its unicity to the universe. Although could be another, this was a difficult thing to determine, but I think this was likely a pretty obvious case.

Part 2 - The Chase
Shortly after the funeral, the stranger got off and I quickly followed him, because I knew that there was a very mysterious case and the mystery is a thing that attracts me from an early age. I always liked to watch movies and read mystery novels. My favorite director: Hitchcock. My favorite writers: Poe, Conan Doyle and Agatha Christie. My dream: to be a Dupin,  a Sherlock Holmes or Hercule Poirot, includind Miss Marple too to not sound a bit sexist. As I said, he took a taxi and I got another soon after him. I said to the driver the traditional "follow that car!" Taxis were driving away and every time approaching  the city's outskirts, and overcoming them moved foward to country side along a very dusty and lonely road unknown to me. Suddenly, a long wall bordering the road and, soon, a large and majestic gate. The taxi stopped and then the other taxi too a little further back. The odd man got out, paid the bill and entered the property. I followed him climbing over the wall and then following up along the walls of the mansion. The subject was skirting the house and turned one of its corners. I quickly turned around then but the man was gone. A huge wall on one side, and an immense plain in the other. He could not have climbed the smooth and vertical wall without windows or run to disappear on the horizon in such a short time. There could only be a secret entrance. I looked carefully through the wall and the floor, until I found a iron ring and this ring attached to a trapdoor. I opened the trap door and went inside.

Part 3 - The Society of Black Widows

My body seemed to fall through a tube for a long lapse of time. Maybe it was not so long, but this was my impression then. When I got to the ground, I saw that i was in a hall. Next to a door, a closet contained strange outfits, hooded like those of the Ku-Klux-Klan. The clothes were black and in the pectoral region had a circle with a spider in the center. There was a door down the hall. In one corner a huge ark rests aside. It was behind it that I hid myself as I heard the same noise that I heard when I was going down the tube. Another guy went out and got one of the garments and began to dress it. He did not even notice as I came from behind and hit his head with my nightstick. If you ask me from where I got it I can answer that I always carry one for these hours. If someone asks me about the reason for this violent act I can say in my defence that I was moved by the certainty that all seems a shady and illegal matter. I tied the guy because in my  detective kit I always bring a rope too, gagged him with a torn piece of his shirt and hid him behind the ark. I put the clothes and walked through the door that was at the end of the corridor. Inside, several people dressed in that same dress thronged around a circle and in the center of this circle, a baby was sleeping peacefully inside a basket. Everyone also had a spider ring like the one that had disappeared from the dead man's finger and appeared in the sinister man's finger. One of them, probably the leader, for he had in his dress a larger spider began a speech. The most important parts of his speech to remember are those in which, to my horror, described the purpose of the Society of Black Widows and how and why it acts. The purpose of the Black Widows Society was avenging those couples who had lost their babies prematurely by medical maltreatments or  errors. They took revenge by stealing children and sacrificing them. In the beginning the ritual had emerged from the mystical school of thought called irrationalism, created in Begonnian in the eighteenth century, and this ideas streaming  which was a mystic cult that consists to produce the same suffering that one sufers to purge his suffering. The main reason for doing this is the illogic of the act, basic principle of irrationalism, created by a man a Ralpft Rolmster, the ancient, healer,  mystic, alchemist and charlatan. In the beginnig of this case what made me suspicious was the strange and mysterious guy stealing the ring. But now, this made no sense, because each member of the Black Widows Society had its own ring. The only plausible explanation was that the guy did not belong to the Society and was an invader like me. Suddenly, when the leader of the sect wielded a knife to sacrifice the baby appeared a guy and shouted: "There is an intruder among us because was found one of us tied behind the ark in the hall. Everyone will have to remove the hood. Exactly at this time, one of the hooded men pulled out a gun and shouted: "Police!  You are all under arrest on child  murder". It was the strange guy. He was a police officer and was investigating the Society. Exactly at this time, one of the hooded guys came up and was going to hit the policeman from behind, but I hit him with my nightstick, which I always carry with me. So it was dissolved and destroyed the Society of Black Widows and the danger that flown over the its small potential victims was kept forever away. That was another closed case.