Tuesday, 24 June 2014

"Os Primeiros Minutos" by José Thiesen (in English)

Quando ela olhou para ele compreendeu que não o amava mais.
Ela virou para o lado e tentou até sorrir. Sempre soube que esta certeza um dia viria e que, vindo, não teria retorno.
Ele ainda comia seus ovos fritos com evidente prazer.
Ela egueu-se da mesa e foi até o banheiro branco encontrar-se consigo no espelho na parede. Aos trinta anos ainda era bela ela, Anabela bela.
Ouviu os pratos serem postos na pia.
Encontraram-se no quarto de dormir, ele a desabotoar a camisa.
- Não mais te amo.
- O quê?
- Eu não mais te amo.
- Piada?
- Sério. Eu não mais te amo.
- Tu queres dizer que não me amas mais?
- Isso.
Eles estava aturdido; ela, séria. Ele queria falar mas não conseguia achar as palavras.
- E esperou até agora pra me dizer isso?
- Eu não esperei. Descobri agora.
- Mas como assim, “descobri agora”?
- Apenas isso. Descobri agora que não mais te amo.
- Eu não acredito.
- Eu vou embora.
- Como assim, vais embora?
- Não mais te amo; não posso mais ficar aqui.
- Estás maluca? Eu te amo e quero que fiques comigo!
- Não é possível.
- Mas o teu amor por mim, o que houve com ele?
- Foi uma luz que se apagou. Não sei o que houve; apenas não mais te amo!
- Pare de dizer isso!
- Eu sempre soube que um dia te diria isso.
- Escute, meu amor: guarde essa mala e vamos dormir, dormir, talvez sonhar e então amanhã tudo isso parecerá distante e as coisas voltarão ao normal.
- As coisas estão normais e vou embora assim mesmo.
- Eu não posso te impedir...
- Não.
- Eu quero... eu quero te odiar!
- Faça-o. Será melhor pra ti.
Ele sentou se cama e lágrimas que vinham do fundo de sua alma começaram a rolar lentas por sua face. Mas ele não chorava, realmente.
Ela terminou sua mala e a fechou.
- Eu não tenho raiva, nem ódio nem mágoa de ti. Apenas não mais te amo.
Sem virar-se ela o ouviu sair e fechar a porta do apartamento. Ele foi até a janela e do alto de nove andares a viu sair do prédio e pegar um taxi.
Com um gesto de abraça-la, fechou os olhos e abraçou o espaço.
Como ela não lia jornais, jamais descobriu-lhe a morte.


"Ecclesiastes" (Chapter VI) by Qoheleth (in English)



Chapter 6

1 There is another evil which I have seen under the sun, and it weighs heavily upon man: 2 there is the man to whom God gives riches and property and honor, so that he lacks none of all the things he craves; yet God does not grant him power to partake of them, but a stranger devours them. This is vanity and a dire plague. 3 Should a man have a hundred children and live many years, no matter to what great age, still if he has not the full benefit of his goods, or if he is deprived of burial, of this man I proclaim that the child born dead is more fortunate than he.

4 Though it came in vain
and goes into darkness

and its name is enveloped in darkness;

5 though it has not seen  or known the sun,
yet the dead child is at rest rather than such a man.

6 Should he live twice a thousand years and not enjoy his goods, do not both go to the same place?

7 All man's toil is for his mouth,
yet his desire is not fulfilled.

8 For what advantage has the wise man over the fool, or what advantage has the poor man in knowing how to conduct himself in life? 9 "What the eyes see is better than what the desires wander after." This also is vanity and a chase after wind. 10 Whatever is, was long ago given its name, and the nature of man is known, and that he cannot contend in judgment with one who is stronger than he. 11 For though there are many sayings that multiply vanity, what profit is there for a man?

12 For who knows what is good for a man in life, the limited days of his vain life (which God has made like a shadow)? Because-who is there to tell a man what will come after him under the sun?


Saturday, 21 June 2014

"Homily for the Holy Mass on the Solemnity of Pentecost" by Pope Francis (in English)



Vatican Basilica
Sunday, 8 June 2014


 “They were all filled with the Holy Spirit” (Acts 2:4).

Speaking to the Apostles at the Last Supper, Jesus said that after he left this world he would send them the gift of the Father, that is, the Holy Spirit (cf. Jn 15:26). This promise was powerfully fulfilled on the day of Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit descended upon the disciples, who were gathered in the Upper Room. This extraordinary outpouring was not limited solely to that moment, but was an event that was renewed and still continues to be renewed. Christ glorified at the right hand of the Father continues to fulfill his promise, sending upon the Church the life-giving Spirit, who teaches us, reminds us, and lets us speak.

The Holy Spirit teaches us: he is the Interior Master. He guides us along the right path, through life’s challenges. He teaches us the path, the way. In the early times of the Church, Christianity was called “the way” (cf. Acts 9:2), and Jesus himself is the Way. The Holy Spirit teaches us to follow him, to walk in his footprints. More than a master of doctrine, the Holy Spirit is a master of life. And he surely takes part in life as well as in knowledge, but within the broadest and most harmonious horizons of Christian existence.

The Holy Spirit reminds us, he reminds us of all that Jesus said. He is the living memory of the Church, and when he reminds us, he helps us to understand the words of the Lord.

This remembrance in the Spirit and by virtue of the Spirit is not reduced to a mnemonic fact; it is an essential aspect of Christ’s presence within us and within his Church. The Spirit of truth and charity reminds us of all that Christ said, and helps us to enter ever more fully into the meaning of his words. We all have this experience: one moment, in any situation, there is an idea and then another connects with a passage from Scripture .... It is the Spirit who leads us to take this path: the path of the living memory of the Church. And he asks us for a response: the more generous our response, the more Jesus’ words become life within us, becoming attitudes, choices, actions, testimony. In essence the Spirit reminds of the commandment of love, and calls us to live it.

A Christian without memory is not a true Christian but only halfway there: a man or a woman, a prisoner of the moment, who doesn’t know how to treasure his or her history, doesn’t know how to read it and live it as salvation history. With the help of the Holy Spirit, however, we are able to interpret interior inspirations and life events in light of Jesus’ words. And thus, within us grows the knowledge of memory, knowledge of the heart, which is a gift of the Spirit. May the Holy Spirit rekindle the Christian memory within all of us! And there that day with the Apostles was our Lady of Memory, who from the beginning meditated on all those things in her heart. Mary, our Mother, was there. May she help us on this path of memory.

The Holy Spirit teaches us, reminds us, and — another aspect — lets us speak, with God and with men. There are no muted Christians, mute of soul; no, there’s no place for this.

He lets us speak with God in prayer. Prayer is a gift that we freely receive; dialoguing with him in the Holy Spirit, who prays in us and allows us to address God, calling him Father, Dad, Abba. (cf. Rm 8:15; Gal 4:4); and this is not merely an “expression” but a reality: we truly are children of God. “All who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God” (Rm 8:14).

He lets us speak in the act of faith. Without the Holy Spirit, none of us is able to say: “Jesus is Lord” — we heard this today. It is the Spirit who lets us speak with people in fraternal dialogue. He lets us speak with others, recognizing them as brothers and sisters; to speak with friendship, with tenderness, with compassion, understanding the heartaches and hopes, the sorrows and joys of others.

But there’s more: the Holy Spirit also lets us speak to men through prophecy, making us humble and docile “channels” of God’s Word. Prophecy is made with candour, to openly demonstrate the contradictions and injustices, but always with compassion and constructive intent. Charged with the Spirit of love, we can be signs and instruments of God who loves, who serves, who gives life.

In summary: the Holy Spirit teaches us the way; he reminds us of and explains Jesus’ words; he lets us pray and say “Father” to God, and lets us speak to men and women in fraternal dialogue and lets us speak in prophecy.

The day of Pentecost, when the disciples “were all filled with the Holy Spirit”, was the baptism of the Church, which was born in “going out”, in “departure” to proclaim the Good News to everyone. The Mother Church, who departs in order to serve. Let us remember the other Mother, our Mother who sets out in haste to serve. Mother Church and Mother Mary: both virgins, both mothers, both women. Jesus was peremptory with the Apostles: do not depart from Jerusalem, but wait until you have received the power of the Holy Spirit from above (cf. Acts 1:4-8). Without Him there is no mission, there is no evangelization. For this, with the whole Church, with our Mother Catholic Church, let us implore: Come, Holy Spirit!

Friday, 20 June 2014

Sonnet XII by William Shakespeare (in English)



When I do count the clock that tells the time,
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;
When I behold the violet past prime,
And sable curls, all silvered o'er with white;
When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,
Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,
And summer's green all girded up in sheaves,
Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard,
Then of thy beauty do I question make,
That thou among the wastes of time must go,
Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake
And die as fast as they see others grow;
     And nothing 'gainst Time's scythe can make defence
     Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.

Thursday, 19 June 2014

"A Luis" by Castro Alves (in Portuguese)



(no dia de seu natalício)
A imaginação, com o vôo ousado,
aspira a principio à eternidade...
Depois um pequeno espaço basta em breve
para os destroços de nossas esperanças iludidas! ...
Goethe


Como um perfume de longínquas plagas
Traz o vento da pátria ao peregrino,
Ó meu amigo! que saudade infinda
Tu me trazes dos tempos de menino!


É o ledo enxame de sutis abelhas
Que vem lembrar à flor o mel d'aurora...
Acres perfumes de uma idade ardente
Quando o lábio sorri... mas nunca chora!


Que tempos idos! que esperanças louras!
Que cismas de poesia e de futuro!
Nas páginas do triste Lamartine
Quanto sonho de amor pousava puro! ...


E tu falavas de um amor celeste,
De um anjo, que depois se fez esposa...
— Moça, que troca os risos de criança
Pelo meigo cismar de mãe formosa.


Oh! meu amigo! neste doce instante
o vento do passado em mim suspira,
E minh'alma estremece de alegria,
Como ao beijo da noite geme a lira.


Tu paraste na tenda, ó peregrino!
Eu vou seguindo do deserto a trilha;
Pois bem... que a lira do poeta errante
Seja a bênção do lar e da família.

Wednesday, 18 June 2014

"The Hunting Of The Snark an Agony in Eight Fits" by Lewis Carroll (Fit the Seventh ) (in English)



                     Fit the Seventh

                    THE BANKER'S FATE

     They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
          They pursued it with forks and hope;
     They threatened its life with a railway-share;
          They charmed it with smiles and soap.

     And the Banker, inspired with a courage so new
          It was matter for general remark,
     Rushed madly ahead and was lost to their view
          In his zeal to discover the Snark

     But while he was seeking with thimbles and care,
          A Bandersnatch swiftly drew nigh
     And grabbed at the Banker, who shrieked in despair,
          For he knew it was useless to fly.

     He offered large discount—he offered a cheque
          (Drawn "to bearer") for seven-pounds-ten:
     But the Bandersnatch merely extended its neck
          And grabbed at the Banker again.

     Without rest or pause—while those frumious jaws
          Went savagely snapping around—
     He skipped and he hopped, and he floundered and flopped,
          Till fainting he fell to the ground.

     The Bandersnatch fled as the others appeared
          Led on by that fear-stricken yell:
     And the Bellman remarked "It is just as I feared!"
          And solemnly tolled on his bell.

     He was black in the face, and they scarcely could trace
          The least likeness to what he had been:
     While so great was his fright that his waistcoat turned white—
          A wonderful thing to be seen!

     To the horror of all who were present that day.
          He uprose in full evening dress,
     And with senseless grimaces endeavoured to say
          What his tongue could no longer express.

     Down he sank in a chair—ran his hands through his hair—
          And chanted in mimsiest tones
     Words whose utter inanity proved his insanity,
          While he rattled a couple of bones.

     "Leave him here to his fate—it is getting so late!"
          The Bellman exclaimed in a fright.
     "We have lost half the day.  Any further delay,
          And we sha'nt catch a Snark before night!"