Barquinha

[Portuguese version (original) ~ English version bellow ~ Read listening to Ludovico Einaudi – Oltremare]

Recordo-me daqueles longas manhãs de verão,
Daqueles dias passados junto ao mar,
O sol batendo-me no rosto,
A luz amena da madrugada
Ardendo na pele salgada.
O som das ondas no interior das conchas,
E dentro delas todo o mar se achava!
De risos tagarelas e pás na mão
Erguem-se castelos e torres de Babel,
Neles, pequenos heróis salvando os seus amores,
Guardados por dragões malvados em fortalezas de areia.
Rostos que o tempo levou,
Mas cujas as faces vivem dentro de mim.
Pequenas caravelas levadas pelo vento,
No mar imenso que é a minha mente.

Procuro-as,

A brisa levando-me pelo oceano,
Erguem-se as velas, hastea-se a bandeira.
A pequena barquinha agitando com as ondas,
Nela uma criança
Pequena, mas destemida!
Dobra o Bojador, chega às Tormentas.
Derrota o Adamastor, chama-lhe Esperança.
Os risos de uma mãe que por fim chama,
Tocando os sinos de retorno para a casa.
Pouco restando entre o cais e o navio,
Surge por fim a alegria de quem espera,
E o mistério triste de quem chega.

Ancoro o meu barco, saudades de pedra!

Dessa póstuma odisseia eloquente
Resta agora um tanto de nada,
Uma névoa de saudade,
Lembranças ténues de um tempo que foi.
Tempo que se não tivesse já sido, seria ainda?

E Suspeitando-me de mim mesmo
Erguem-se barões de guerra por toda a mente
Procurando pelos nomes daqueles que foram,
Lutando por uma causa desconhecida.
Causas que dos Eus que há
Nenhum conhece,
Ninguém conhece,
Ninguém pode conhecer,
Agarrando-se a um tanto que foi; a um tanto de nada
E que, mesmo assim,
Preserva todas as verdade do mundo.

Num único vislumbre o sol recolhe-se,
E volto eu de novo para casa.

[English version ~ Read listening to Ludovico Einaudi – Oltremar]

I remember those long summer mornings,
Those endless days by the sea,
The sun hitting my face,
The light of the dawn burning on my salty skin.
The sound of the waves inside the shells,
And inside them could be found the whole sea!
With chattering laughters and shovels in hand,
Babel towers and castles give rise,
Little heroes saving their loves,
Loves guarded by evil dragons in sand fortresses.
Faces that time has taken,
But whose shapes still live inside me.
Little caravels carried by the wind,
Throughout the immense sea that is my mind.

I look for them,

The breeze taking me by the ocean,
The sails rise, flag hinged,
The little boat shaked by the waves,
Inside it, a small, but fearless child!
Bends the Bojador, arrives at the Storms.
Defeats the Adamastor, renames it Hope.
The laughter of a mother who finally calls,
Ringing the bells to return home.
Not much remaining between the wharf and the ship,
Arises the joy of those who anxiously wait,
And the sad mystery from those who arrive.

I Anchor my boat, stone memories!

Of that last eloquent odyssey
Remains now a whole of nothing.
A mist of Saudade.
Weak memories of a time that once was.
But if it hadn’t already been, would it still be?

And Suspecting me from my own self
War barons arise throughout my mind,
Looking for the names of those who were,
Struggling for an unknown cause.
Causes which of the Selves within me,
None knows,
No one knows,
No one can know,
Clinging to something that once was; to a whole of nothing
And that which, even so,
Preserves all the truths of the world.

In a single glimpse the sun decays,
And I come home, once again.

7 thoughts on “Barquinha

  1. Wow. That was absolutely beautiful!!! It was lovely to look at the words, not knowing what they said…to see the wonderful picture of the children that gifted a warm laugh, and then to go on the journey through words I understand. Your poem took me through many emotions. Thank You!!! Perfect ending of the day. Cheers! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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