A few days ago I complained, in a chronicle, that I was disappointed with the month of April. It felt like a winter month, ugly, cold, rainy. Cloudy sky, hidden stars.
However, today, I was fortunate to find my favorite month in its splendor.
I remembered Rhapsody in Blue, by George Gershwin (died in 1937)
listen:
https://youtu.be/cH2PH0auTUU?si=fSpkVrlZjsv9ilT6
https://youtu.be/cH2PH0auTUU?si=fSpkVrlZjsv9ilT6
A data estabelecida pelas Organização das Nações Unidas alerta para a necessidade de se viver em harmonia com a natureza
https://www.nationalgeographicbrasil.com/meio-ambiente/2022/04/por-que-se-comemora-o-dia-da-terra
O que deixaremos às novas gerações?
Guerras e seu lixo?
Terra arrasada?
My Caiana cane tree
Fulana was the one who gave it to me
Who died this week.
Also my cane tree
The Caiana cane tree
Died at the weekend
After Fulana died
I was left without my cane
And I was left without Fulana
And I cried all week
For Fulana and sugarcane.
Without consolation is Sicrana
Fulana's niece
That gave me the cane.
In the sugarcane pit
From the Caiana cane tree
Crying for Fulana
It's me and Sicrana.
ONE NIGHT IN HAITI *
The general threw his cap on the bed.
The dog ran through the garden.
Through the window he could see the sea.
It was very hot in that room.
The next morning there would be a ceremony for the change of command.
The hotel maid brought clean towels.
The general leaned out the window and breathed in the sea breeze.
He no longer missed and would not miss
Dusk
The sound of drums could be heard in the distance
Black people would be dancing. Somewhere a sorceress would be preparing her spells
The general poured himself a shot of whiskey. Without ice. The drink warmed his icy soul.
He took off his boots and looked at his white feet.
And he remembered so many marches, but his feet were rested. His soul was tired and so were his eyes.
He wouldn't come down for dinner.
He wouldn't play cards.
He walked to the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror.
He said goodbye to the image of a general at the end of his career
II
In the hotel lobby, people looked at each other.
Uniformed officers accompanied the transfer of the body
The command change has been cancelled.
Another ceremony would occupy that morning.
* in honor of Urano Bacellar, a Brazilian general who commanded the United Nations peacekeeping forces, found dead in Haiti
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O general jogou o quepe sobre a cama.
O cão corria pelo jardim.
Pela janela avistava-se o mar.
Fazia muito calor naquele quarto.
Na manhã seguinte haveria uma cerimônia para troca de comando.
A camareira do hotel trouxe toalhas limpas.
O general debruçou na janela e aspirou o ar da brisa marinha.
Já não sentia saudades nem deixaria saudades
Anoitecia
Podia-se ouvir ao longe o som de tambores
Negros estariam dançando. Em algum lugar uma feiticeira estaria preparando seus feitiços
O general serviu-se de uma dose de uísque. Sem gelo. A bebida aqueceu sua alma gelada.
Descalçou as botas e olhou seus pés brancos
E lembrou-se de tantas marchas feitas, mas os pés estavam descansados. A alma estava cansada e os olhos também.
Não desceria para o jantar.
Não jogaria cartas.
Caminhou até o banheiro e olhou-se no espelho
Despediu-se da imagem de um general em final de carreira
II
No saguão do hotel as pessoas se entreolhavam.
Oficiais fardados acompanharam o translado do corpo
A troca de comando foi cancelada.
Outra cerimônia ocuparia aquela manhã.
* em homenagem a Urano Bacellar, general brasileiro que comandava as forças de paz das Nações Unidas, encontrado morto.
