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As Palavras
São como um cristal,
as palavras.
Algumas, um punhal,
um incêndio.
Outras,
orvalho apenas.
Secretas vêm, cheias de memória.
Inseguras navegam:
barcos ou beijos,
as águas estremecem.
Desamparadas, inocentes,
leves.
Tecidas são de luz
e são a noite.
E mesmo pálidas
verdes paraísos lembram ainda.
Quem as escuta? Quem
as recolhe, assim,
cruéis, desfeitas,
nas suas conchas puras?
Eugénio de Andrade
[Póvoa de Atalaia, Fundão, 1923]
1 comentário:
Wisdom consists of the anticipation of consequences. (Norman Cousins)e o poder das palavras.
From the speech, spoken at his (Nelson Mandela) presidential inauguration:
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves: who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small doesn't serve the world.
There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that
other people won't feel insecure around you.
We are all meant to shine as children do.
We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
It's not just in some of us; it is in everyone!
And as we let our light shine, we
unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear,
our presence automatically liberates others!
... isto a propósito deste poema (lindo) que escolheu - Mas... infelizmente 'uma andorinha não faz a primavera' e breve... nem as conchas puras sobreviverão.
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