segunda-feira, 23 de janeiro de 2012

Ode aos trens / Ode to trains

Por que sumiram com os trens no Brasil? Por que temos que sofrer horas e horas em estradas (algumas não tão bem feitas) em vez de tranquilamente viajarmos de trem?
What happened to train lines in Brazil?
Parece calmo / it seems a quiet road

com  vista pastoril/ with countryside view

árvores/ trees and bushes


Não se engane/ don't get fooled

é um inferno / it is hell

sem parar/ ever and ever

todos os tipos de veículos/all kinds of  vehicles


sábado, 14 de janeiro de 2012

Farol / Lighthouse

Sempre gostei de faróis, solitários iluminando o tenebroso mar, servindo de guia para grandes aventureiros.
Quando criança, lendo  o Tesouro da Juventude, lamentava que o Farol de Alexandria já não existisse mais.
Mas há ainda milhares de faróis cumprindo o seu destino  e como homenagem, a poesia de  Longfellow

The Lighthouse
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The rocky ledge runs far into the sea,
and on its outer point, some miles away,
the lighthouse lifts its massive masonry,
A pillar of fire by night, of cloud by day.

Even at this distance I can see the tides,
Upheaving, break unheard along its base,
A speechless wrath, that rises and subsides
in the white tip and tremor of the face.

And as the evening darkens, lo! how bright,
through the deep purple of the twilight air,
Beams forth the sudden radiance of its light,
with strange, unearhly splendor in the glare!

No one alone: from each projecting cape
And perilous reef along the ocean's verge,
Starts into life a dim, gigantic shape,
Holding its lantern o'er the restless surge.

Like the great giant Christopher it stands
Upon the brink of the tempestuous wave,
Wading far out among the rocks and sands,
The night o'er taken mariner to save.

And the great ships sail outward and return
Bending and bowing o'er the billowy swells,
And ever joyful, as they see it burn
They wave their silent welcome and farewells.

They come forth from the darkness, and their sails
Gleam for a moment only in the blaze,
And eager faces, as the light unveils
Gaze at the tower, and vanish while they gaze.

The mariner remembers when a child,
on his first voyage, he saw it fade and sink
And when returning from adventures wild,
He saw it rise again o'er ocean's brink.

Steadfast, serene, immovable, the same,
Year after year, through all the silent night
Burns on forevermore that quenchless flame,
Shines on that inextinguishable light!

It sees the ocean to its bosum clasp
The rocks and sea-sand with the kiss of peace:
It sees the wild winds lift it in their grasp,
And hold it up, and shake it like a fleece.

The startled waves leap over it; the storm
Smites it with all the scourges of the rain,
And steadily against its solid form
press the great shoulders of the hurricane.

The sea-bird wheeling round it, with the din
of wings and winds and solitary cries,
Blinded and maddened by the light within,
Dashes himself against the glare, and dies.

A new Prometheus, chained upon the rock,
Still grasping in his hand the fire of love,
it does not hear the cry, nor heed the shock,
but hails the mariner with words of love.

"Sail on!" it says: "sail on, ye stately ships!
And with your floating bridge the ocean span;
Be mine to guard this light from all eclipse.
Be yours to bring man neared unto man.
The Lighthouse
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 

Since childhood  when I was told the story of 
the great Lighthouse of Alexandria,
 lighthouses in general have enchanted me. 
The poem above is my homage to them.