Continuing and patient existence

Un homme qui dort, Bernard Queysanne, 1974

Assim vivendo

Filme do Desassossego, João Botelho, 2010

Persona

The hopeless dream of being - not seeming, but being. At every waking moment, alert. The gulf between what you are with others and what you are alone. The vertigo and the constant hunger to be exposed, to be seen through, perhaps even wiped out. Every inflection and every gesture a lie, every smile a grimace. Suicide? No, too vulgar. But you can refuse to move, refuse to talk, so that you don’t have to lie. You can shut yourself in. Then you needn’t play any parts or make wrong gestures. Or so you thought. But reality is diabolical. Your hiding place isn’t watertight. Life trickles in from the outside, and you’re forced to react. No one asks if it is true or false, if you’re genuine or just a sham.

Persona, Ingmar Bergman, 1966

Liv Ullman em Persona, de Ingmar Bergman, 1966

I Am!

I am! yet what I am none cares or knows,
My friends forsake me like a memory lost;
I am the self-consumer of my woes,
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shades in love and death’s oblivion lost;
And yet I am! and live with shadows tost

Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life nor joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life’s esteems;
And e’en the dearest — that I loved the best —
Are strange — nay, rather stranger than the rest.

I long for scenes where man has never trod;
A place where woman never smil’d or wept;
There to abide with my creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept:
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie;
The grass below — above the vaulted sky.


John Clare, 1793-1864

On a day like this one

Un homme qui dort, Bernard Queysanne, 1974

Les pieds dans le ruisseau

Les pieds dans le ruisseau
Moi je regarde couler la vie
Les pieds dans le ruisseau
Moi je regarde sans dire un mot
...

Jacques Brel

Can't make a sound

Not dead but becoming a ghost

You don't know what love is

...'till you've flipped your heart and you have lost

 

Um poema sobre aquela que ele jamais encontrou

tens a possibilidade de fazer algo
mas então não o fazes
não sabes por que
não o fazes
apenas deixas de fazer
e bem o sabes
que assim vai ser a tua vida
tua apenas em parte
por tudo que deixou de acontecer
e isso é tão triste
e não apenas para ti
pensas nos bons momentos
e ficas ainda mais triste.

Geir Gulliksen, trad. Luciano Dutra

Anatol Knoteck

Come near me