Troubled Water

Mandado de despejo aos mandarins da Europa! Fora. Fora tu , Anatole France , Epicuro de farmacopeia homeopática, tenia-Jaurès do Ancien Régime, salada de Renan-Flaubert em loiça do século dezassete, falsificada! Fora tu, Maurice Barrès, feminista da Acção, Châteaubriand de paredes nuas, alcoviteiro de palco da pátria de cartaz, bolor da Lorena, algibebe dos mortos dos outros, vestindo do seu comércio ! Fora tu, Bourget das almas, lamparineiro das partículas alheias, psicólogo de tampa de brasão, reles snob plebeu, sublinhando a régua de lascas os mandamentos da lei da Igreja! Fora tu, mercadoria Kipling, homem-prático do verso, imperialista das sucatas, épico para Majuba e Colenso, Empire-Day do calão das fardas, tramp-steamer da baixa imortalidade ! Fora ! Fora ! Fora tu, George Bernard Shaw, vegeteriano do paradoxo, charlatão da sinceridade, tumor frio do ibsenismo, arranjista da intelectualidade inesperada, Kilkenny-Cat de ti próprio, Irish Melody calvinista com letra da Origem das ...

«The legends of Saints Cosmas and Damian , the patron saints of medicine, pharmacy, and surgery, are dramatic miracles to the highest degree. These early Christian martyrs lived and died in the third century, in what is now modern-day Syria. As two traveling doctors, the saints refused to take payment for their services, and subsequently received the epithet anargyri (Greek ανάργυροι) meaning “the silverless ones,” which underscored their Christian humility. Together, they performed cures of ailments like blindness and paralysis, resolving fevers and everyday sicknesses. Other times, their legends present them in their more necromantic element: raising the dead, expelling snakes from the breast, and praying with camels. But in the Middle Ages, these two holy physicians became best known for their miracle of leg transplantation. The saints’ leg-grafting miracle was popularized in Jacobus de Voragine’s thirteenth-century compilation of saints’ lives, the Legenda Aurea (the “Golden Lege...

 «As a woman and a lover, however, I am moved by the sight of my Beloved. Where He is, I want to be. What He suffers, I want to share. Who He is, I want to be: crucified for love.»   ~ Saint Teresa of Avila Living life in touch with divine spirit lets us see the light of love in all living beings. That light is a resurrecting life force. A culture that is dead to love can only be resurrected by spiritual awakening. On the surface it appears that our nation has gone so far down the road of secular individualism, worshiping the twin gods of money and power, that there seems to be no place for spiritual life. Yet an overwhelming majority of Americans who express faith in Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, or other religious traditions clearly believe that spiritual life is important. The crisis of American life does not seem to be generated by a lack of interest in spirituality. However, this interest is constantly co-opted by the powerful forces of materialism and hedonisti...

Notre Père qui êtes aux cieux Restez-y Et nous nous resterons sur la terre Qui est quelquefois si jolie Avec ses mystères de New York Et puis ses mystères de Paris Qui valent bien celui de la Trinité Avec son petit canal de l'Ourcq Sa grande muraille de Chine Sa rivière de Morlaix Ses bêtises de Cambrai Avec son océan Pacifique Et ses deux bassins aux Tuilleries Avec ses bons enfants et ses mauvais sujets Avec toutes les merveilles du monde Qui sont là Simplement sur la terre Offertes à tout le monde Éparpillées Emerveillées elles-mêmes d'être de telles merveilles Et qui n'osent se l'avouer Comme une jolie fille nue qui n'ose se montrer Avec les épouvantables malheurs du monde Qui sont légion Avec leurs légionnaires Avec leurs tortionnaires Avec les maîtres de ce monde Les maîtres avec leurs prêtres leurs traîtres et leurs reîtres Avec les saisons Avec les années Avec les jolies filles et avec les vieux cons Avec la paille de la misère pourrissant dans l'acier d...

[...] And Thecla kept seeking Paul; and it was told her that he was in Myra of Lycia.  And taking young men and maidens, she girded herself; and having sewed the tunic so as to make a man’s cloak, she came to Myra, and found Paul speaking the word of God.  And Paul was astonished at seeing her, and the crowd with her, thinking that some new trial was coming upon her.  And when she saw him, she said:  I have received the baptism, Paul; for He that wrought along with thee for the Gospel has wrought in me also for baptism.  And Paul, taking her, led her to the house of Hermæus, and hears everything from her, so that those that heard greatly wondered, and were comforted, and prayed over Tryphæna.  And she rose up, and said:  I am going to Iconium.  And Paul said:  Go, and teach the word of God.  And Tryphæna sent her much clothing and gold, so that she left to Paul many things for the service of the poor. And she went to Iconium.  And s...

If your neighbour disappears  O if your neighbour disappears  The quiet man who raked his lawn  The girl who always took the sun  Never mention it to your wife  Never say at dinner time  Whatever happened to that man  Who used to rake his lawn  Never say to your daughter As you’re walking home from church Funny thing about that girl I haven’t seen her for a month And if your son says to you Nobody lives next door They’ve all gone away Send him to bed with no supper Because it can spread, it can spread And one fine evening coming home Your wife and daughter and son They’ll have caught the idea and will be gone. Warning The ancient craftsman smiled        when I asked him to blow a bottle        to keep your tears in. And he smiled and hummed in rhythm with his                                           ...

Não digam que fui rebotalho, que vivi à margem da vida. Digam que eu procurava trabalho, mas fui sempre preterida. Digam ao povo brasileiro que meu sonho era ser escritora, mas eu não tinha dinheiro para pagar uma editora. Quarto de despejo, 1960 Quando infiltrei na literatura Sonhava so com a ventura Minhalma estava chêia de hianto Eu nao previa o pranto.  Ao publicar o Quarto de Despejo Concretisava assim o meu desejo. Que vida. Que alegria. E agora… Casa de alvenaria. Outro livro que vae circular As tristêsas vão duplicar. Os que pedem para eu auxiliar A concretisar os teus desejos Penso: eu devia publicar… – o ‘Quarto de Despejo’. No início vêio adimiração O meu nome circulou a Nação. Surgiu uma escritora favelada. Chama: Carolina Maria de Jesus. E as obras que ela produz Deixou a humanidade habismada No início eu fiquei confusa. Parece que estava oclusa Num estôjo de marfim. Eu era solicitada Era bajulada. Como um querubim. Depôis começaram a me invejar. Dizia: você, deve dar ...