Tuesday, June 24, 2014

O Oceano



Ficou lá, em pé, nas pedras, contemplando o oceano. Esse oceano que tocou tantas praias, onde tantos sonhos foram sonhados, em tantas diferentes línguas. Esse oceano ao qual se sentiu tão ligado, seu parceiro de outras vidas, tão familiar, tão misterioso. Para ele, desconhecido.

Lá permaneceu, parado, olhando fixamente, observando as rítmicas idas e vindas. Sentia-se atraído por sua intensidade, pelo movimento das ondas. Tentava entender o porquê. Ouvia atentamente seus sons.

Imaginava o prazer de sentir-se coberto por suas águas, sentindo sua temperatura, subermergindo em sua profundidade, deixando seu corpo ser carregado pelas correntes. Podia adivinhar as correntes, profundas correntes.

Nadadores enfrentavam tais correntes. Ele já vira. Mergulhando das pedras, eles se jogavam. Com suas primeiras braçadas furiosas, confrontavam as marés, domavam as correntes. Voltavam exaustos, sem fôlego e extasiados. Mas ele não era nadador. Vinha contemplando esse oceano há alguns anos. Ouvia seu chamado. Enchia sua vida monótona, seus sonhos, suas fantasias.


Deu um passo mais à frente. Olhou para baixo, fechou os olhos, ouviu a voz, chamando por seu nome, insistindo. Ficou lá, na ponta da pedra, sentiu a brisa, lambeu o sal que ela trouxe aos seus lábios e o saboreou por um momento. Abriu os olhos, sentiu-os arder pelo Sol. Respirou fundo, virou-se e caminhou na direção oposta.

The Ocean


He stood there, on the rocks, contemplating the ocean. This ocean that had touched so many shores, where so many dreams were dreamt, in so many different languages. This ocean to which he felt so connected, his partner from other lives,  so familiar, yet mysterious. To him, unknown. 

He remained there, standing, staring, observing the rythmic comings and goings. He was drawn to it by its intensity, the movement of the waves. He tried to understand why. He listened attentively to its sounds.

He imagined the pleasure of being covered by its water, feeling its temperature, submerging in its depth, allowing his body to be carried by its currents. He could guess there were currents, deep currents.

Swimmers faced such currents. He had seen them. Diving from the rocks, they took the leap.  With their furious first strokes, they confronted the tides, tamed the currents. They came back exhausted, breathless and exhilarating. But he was no swimmer. He had been contemplating this ocean for quite a few years. He heard its calling. It filled his monotonous life, his dreams, his fantasies.

He took a step closer. He looked down, closed his eyes, heard its voice, crying his name, insisting. He stood there at the edge, felt the breeze, licked the salt it brought to his lips, savoured it for a moment.  He opened his eyes and felt them stung by the Sun. He drew his breath, turned around, and walked away.











Monday, June 16, 2014

Dreams that never are

Oh, she insisted, begged, pleaded
Yet, no interest, no reply
After, no explanation needed
No justification could apply

It was all there in the cold stare
In the blank expression of the face
No other moment can compare
To when alone you fall in space

She closed her eyes and heart and soul
She began falling
Ever slow

And I can hear her, though afar
Amidst life and its demands

Her cry for dreams that never are

Saturday, June 7, 2014

Take it, my friend

You should take it, my friend
Your chance given by the universe 
Go back to the beginning
You had no past, you were free

You should take it, my friend
Though weary eyes look at me 
While fine lines crawl up your face
And silver rays shine through your hair

Just return to that place
Oh, go back to that time
Peaceful you'd fall into slumber 
Resting in the arms of your lover

And the dreams you had were a highway of stars
Where you both could run free at the speed of the sound