” Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are; One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will, To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.” Alfred Tennyson, last lines of Ulysses
ODE TO LIFE by Martha Medeiros
He who becomes the slave of habit,
who follows the same routes every day,
who never changes pace,
who does not risk and change the color of his clothes,
who does not speak and does not experience,
He or she who shuns passion,
who prefers black on white,
dotting ones “it’s” rather than a bundle of emotions, the kind that make your eyes glimmer,
that turn a yawn into a smile,
that make the heart pound in the face of mistakes and feelings,
He or she who does not turn things topsy-turvy,
who is unhappy at work,
who does not risk certainty for uncertainty,
to thus follow a dream,
those who do not forego sound advice at least once in their lives,
He who does not travel, who does not read,
who does not listen to music,
who does not find grace in himself,
she who does not find grace in herself,
He who slowly destroys his own self-esteem,
who does not allow himself to be helped,
who spends days on end complaining about his own bad luck, about the rain that never stops,
He or she who abandon a project before starting it, who fail to ask questions on subjects he doesn’t know, he or she who don’t reply when they are asked something they do know,
Let’s try and avoid death in small doses,
reminding oneself that being alive requires an effort far greater than the simple fact of breathing.
Only a burning patience will lead
to the attainment of a splendid happiness.
Between then and now,
In that place where it all just is,
Colliding into one single moment,
The past, the future and this today,
One second contains it all.
Frozen in that no-land,
Hearts shaking, butterflies fluttering,
Inside an ever flowing ecstasy,
That’s where I find you.
Waiting for me, calling on me,
We live there, in that aleph,
In these alchemical mutations,
These ever expanding worlds,
Where all that has been still is,
Echoing through the ages,
Singing through these portals of time,
Smiling I speak to the moon,
Dancing, in this glow that is only ours,
I become all that is meant,
To always and forever be.
I’m going to keep on singing these soft songs,
In this wondrous land that is only mine.
I’ll keep on dancing to this mellow lullaby,
Of that heavenly moonlight that only I can see.
It doesn’t matter that you are not here,
I can be complete in bliss without you.
I’ll keep on flying through these dreams,
Of that beautiful mystery that only love can claim.
When I look around deep inside of my heart,
I see, ever so clearly, that you are still there.
In between fragments of thousands of memories,
Someplace beyond frozen and incomplete dreams,
With a million butterflies in captured flight,
And countless broken tears that never got to fall.
Caught in emotions that won’t ever subside,
Captured in words that will never be said.
Closed, open, frozen, neglected, dismissed,
Encapsulated, on pause or set finally free…
Who knows what will become of this feeling,
Of this mysterious place that you have carved.
You might always be there, but I don’t see it…
I only find you when I look deep inside my heart.
The trees hold secrets,
The flowers have dreams,
The wind has a soft melody,
Leafs fall from the sky for you to hold,
Inside doors, there are diamonds,
In a lovers kiss there is eternity,
In the cry of the wolves there is truth,
In butterflies there is always alchemy,
Dancing in the air fairies endlessly sing,
Mosses have infinite stories in their wing,
This world, this world…
It is so much more than what we see,
Shhh… Don’t tell,
These secrets can only be felt.
Um poema: Shhh…não se diz.
As árvores possuem segredos,
As flores contêm infinitos sonhos,
O vento revela uma melodia subtil,
Folhas caem do céu para as tuas mãos,
Dentro de portas, existem brilhantes,
Um beijo predomina a eternidade,
No uivo do lobo esconde-se a verdade,
Nas borboletas há sempre a alquimia,
Em rodopios pela ar, fadas cantam ,
Pela noite, as traças contam histórias.
Este mundo, este nosso mundo…
É muito mais do que aquilo que se vê.
Shhh… Não digas nada.
Estes segredos apenas se sentem.