quarta-feira, 25 de junho de 2014

TALKING BUTTERFLIES

AS BORBOLETAS FALANTES

 
The Papago, native North Americans, tell us in a legend,
that once upon a time, the Creator felt sorry for the children when he realized that their destiny was to grow old, fat, blind and to die.
So he collected the fountains for the most beautiful colors of the universe, the flowers, the leaves, the sun, the skies,  mixed and bundled them up in a package, as a gift for the children.


When they opened it up, the butterflies, colorful and enchanting flew out in song, much to the delight of the children. 
And fright by the song birds, who jealous, protested and petionned the Creator.

Here we have it, we got what we got.


http://www.firstpeople.us/FP-Html-Legends/HowTheButterfliesCameToBe-Papago.html

 
 
Os Papagos, índios norte americanos, explicam que a tempos atrás, o Criador teve pena das crianças, quando se deu conta de que o destino delas era mesmo o de envelhecer, engordar, ficarem mancas, cegas e morrer.
Daí que êle pegou as fontes de tôdas as côres mais belas, das flôres, do sol, das folhas, do céu.
 
Misturou tôdas dentro de um pacote e as deu de presente as crianças.
 
Quando elas abriram o pacote, dali voaram as borboletas, coloridas e encantadoras.
 
Note-se bem que naquele tempo as borboletas também cantavam, para delícia das crianças e grande espanto dos passarinhos.
 
Êstes finalmente se reuniram em comício e reclamaram junto ao Creador.
 
E deu no que deu…
 
 


 

quarta-feira, 11 de junho de 2014

TERCEIRIZADA VILA GLOBAL



Terceirizada vila global

Quisera eu ser a porteira dessa vila global
            de condomínio fechada, tropical e complicada,
                        nesse primeiro, segundo, terceiro mundo?
            Ou seria só no quarto?

Quisera eu ser a porteira desse futuro,
sindicalizada, protegida e abraçada.
porteira louca desse bordelo ecológico,
            de condomínio fechado

Testemunha passageira e temporária
Nessa vila global
dos budismos de nossas madames
e dos nossos capitães.
 

Capital Buddhisms for madams and for men

Wish I were the gatekeeper to this condominium of closed gates
this global village.
Low paid and silent witness to the ins and outs
In bundles of beige enlightened pastel organic
360 cotton color coordinated linens washed
where S.U.V. meets Mercedes for tennis and Thai meets Chi for chai
and George trades flavors with Missy while Ted plays golf with Peg
who knows all about it and meditates.

Incensorial ginger ginseng pill popper global village
of closed gates.
Wish I had joined the union of gatekeepers,
card carrying member by now,
Wish I were professionally well defined.
Wish I had an uniform, uniformity,
clear expectations, cigarette smoking, boredom and everything.
Wish I belonged.

Wish I were the irrevocable porter for this caravan
            The one who carried and inventoried the material possession
The super for this condominium
The keeper of the keys for the closed gates,
in this the first
or could it be the second, maybe the third? the fourth of my worlds?

Wish I were the temporary mad wandering clearing house witness
unreliable gatekeeper to this ecological bordello
the soothing puppeteer
to the capital buddhisms
of our madams and our men.