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Thursday, 30 April 2009

THE END OF THE NIGHT

OUR "GUEST FRIEND"

The End of the Night
by Ronaldo Monte

Failed to light yesterday evening. For absolute lack of what to do, I expect to sleep in bed.
With the delay of sleep and the absence of internal images, focused my attention on the total darkness that was immersed. I spent the hand in front of the eyes and did not notice any movement. I thought I was close to having an experience of blindness and one end of trouble appeared. But then I remembered what I told me my friend Jane Belarmino, blind and visionary: the fear of the dark is a problem for you. I do not know the darkness. In fact, taking isolated experiences as last night, I do not know the darkness.

And very few people living in cities can be said of the intimate dark. The night, as a synonym of darkness, is an increasingly rare phenomenon. The concern for security and control of people did with the darkness that was banned from the streets and buildings of cities. The evening today is only a period of time very different from the day. When you enter a supermarket or a mall, jumping in a time continuum, where the artificial light eliminates any difference between day and night. The - small dark of the film -is more an expression of caring that real. Besides not being an absolute darkness, the clear light projected on the screen, it can be enjoyed by day or night.

For lack of a clear distinction (or dark) in the day, the night lost its purpose for the period to rest and sleep. Pushed increasingly into the night did the things of day. Pharmacies, supermarkets, gas stations and many other services are open continuously. Varamos the night studying or working. Just going to bed when the exhaust no longer allows us to any activity. Here, then, is the insomnia. And then we realize that we lost contact with our first night. The side that leads us to dream and the pastures repairers that reveals the other side of sleep. The dry eyes, the soul dry, the dryness of the imagination. This is the price we pay at the end of the night. Besides the bad mood the other day.

Ronaldo Monte

Born in Maceio, Brazil. Lives in João Pessoa, Paraíba, 1978. poet, writer, psychoanalyst and professor. Public chronicles in newspapers .
PUBLICATIONS
1983, The corner of the Eyes-book of poems. 1996 - Short Memory, chronic and short texts.-2000 - Weaving Night; poems.- 2003, Small Chaos, chronicles. 2006, -Memory of Fire; romance publisher by Objetiva. In 2007,- The Place of Healing - Construction of the Psychoanalytic Situation-by Editora da Paraíba.
SPACE FOR EVERY TWO WEEKS SHOWS A POST OF MY LIST OF BLOGS.

Tuesday, 28 April 2009

TYRENA RESCUED










  • Rescued from the streets,sunday morning two weeks ago ,with hungry and sick of love. Tyrena is very well now , acceptedby the other three kittensin the house (all adopted)





Saturday, 25 April 2009

ARVO METS


Arvo Mets (1937 – 1997)
Born in Estonia, and educated at St. Petersburg Universityand at Literary Institute in Moscow. lived most of his life in Moscow where he edited several literary magazines, including Novy Mir New World. Started writing poetryin the early 1960s,and also translated Estonian poetry to Russian. Three criticallyacclaimed collections of hispoetry miniatures were published in Moscow and Tallinn.His Selected Poems appeared in Moscow in 1992.




Haikus

Blustery wind
we‘re caught in the golden blizzard
of falling leaves

A tiny feather
descending –
birdless sky

The train screams
and slows down –
three silver firs on the pane

Tuesday, 21 April 2009

SAKUTAÖ HAGIWARA II

To is unpenetrated darknesses we have no ligth to holds the mirror up to nature,
he feell out the invisibles shapes and shows images , shining visons , golden spots ,
perhaps distordes but auhtentic versions of the terrible nature of his vision and
of the staggering beauty of his language. Hagiwara has left for man's enlightenment
poems of the dark that will last as long as light and darkness.








SHIAMAMOTO-PARABOLIC TRAJECTORY BEFORE REACHING THE CANVAS--- 5 M LONG

Grass Stem


Look at the grass-stem shawled
Against the nip of winter
In such a flimsy wrap.



O mark that little splinter,
So delicate and sad,
Which all the winter shook
Blue in its fibre shawl.


Look at the grass-stem.
Look.


Beyond a far-off sky
That sags with laggard snow
The grass exhilarates,
Its greenness to grow.



Visage sick to the bottom of the earth

(Hurler to the Moon (1917))



In the depths of the earth there is a face,

A face of a patient alone.



In the darkness at the bottom of the earth

Gently push the stems of herbs,

Appear nests of rats

, Began to shake the hair innumerable

Who are involved,

Push bamboo fine roots green




They grow,

And they seem quite grim,

As if they smoked,

Really evil.

In the darkness at the bottom of the earth,

There is a face of a patient alone.

Hurler to the Moon (1917)




Wednesday, 15 April 2009

SAKUTARÕ HAGAWARA

http://www.shakuhachi.com/Sound/Tanifuji/Tanifuji-Shakulute-C-1.mp3
















Onchi =Koshiro
-Japanese, 1891-1955-

portrait of Sakutaro



Sakutarō Hagiwara -( Hagiwara Sakutaro ) 11-0-1886--05-11-1942 .
Was a writer of free-style verse, active in Taishö and earlyShowa period Japan.
He liberated Japanese free verse from the grip of traditional rules,
and he is considered the father of modern colloquial poetry in Japan.
He published many volumes of essays, literary and cultural criticism ,
and aphorisms over his long career.


New Road at Koide



This road, just newly opened,goes


Straight to the city, I suppose.

Dark melancholy day.

I stand at a new crossing where

A new horizon like a tear


Runs lonelily away.



The sun above a straggling row

Of huddled roof-tops huddles low...

How thin, how shorn of shade,

Stand the few trees in that sparse wood


That once so greedily sturdy stood


Before the road was made.



Such bleakness feeds my blemished mood


Of anger and incertitude


As black sorts well with black

How, how can I re-fangle me?


How be what once I used to be?


Where does the road run back?



Oh where’s that leafy road I seek


That runs to boyhood from the bleak Horizon of the town?

For this new road, which I rejectAnd will not travel,

more was wrecked

Than all those trees hacked

Friday, 10 April 2009

RABÉARIVELO















A Surrealist influence in

Cactus,( lines 13-20)

Here
,when the flanks of the city were made as green
as moonbeams glancing through the forests,
when still they cooled the hillsides of Iarive
crouched like bulls after food,
upon these rocks, too steep for goats,
they drew apart to guard their springs.
Lepers in finery of flowers.

Romantcism (France, 19th Cent.) influenc

Pomegranate, (lines 9-13) perhapS Keats??????

Its taste will be sweeter,
because it was pregnant with desire
And with fearful love and scented blossoms -
Pregnant by the love sun.


Three day breaks, Part III,( lines 1-10 (of III parts))

All the stars are melted together
in the crucible of time,
then cooled in the sea
and turned into a many-faceted stone-block.
A dying lapidist, the Night, setting to work with all her heart
and all her grief to see her millscrumbling, crumbling,
like ashes in the wind,
cuts with what living care the prism.


A Reflection on Merina (Ethnic Group) Culture


Two Old Merina Songs, excerpt from Part II (of II parts)

... my cousin, I have scarcely any lovers for my lovers
areno more than seven; the first is the lover that cuts my
nails; the second is the lover who takes the place of the one
withus in the house, when I am away from home; the third
takes her place in an emergency; the fourth is the lover
who
follows me with her eyes when I go away; the fifth is the
lover who comes to meet me when I return; the sixth is
the lover sustains my life like rice; the seventh is the
lover who does not mix with the crowd andeven when she
happens to be amongst them always knows how to
make
herself distinguished.

And you witness of his daily suffering
and of his endless task;
you atch his thunder-riddled
agony until the battlements of the East re-echo
the conches of the sea -
but you pity him no more
and do not even
remember that his sufferings begin
again
each time the sun capsizes.


(from Traduit de la nuit, 1935 )

JEAN-JOSEPH RABÉARIVELO


















Passionate and restless, drifted from on job to another, and suffered from drug addiction and depression. Rabearivelo took his own life at the age of 36; on June 22, 1937 by poisoning himself . Various reasons have been given for his suicide, including the colonial administration's decision to send a group of basket-weavers instead of him to France to represent the colony. One of Africa's most important French-language poets, a prominent figure in the literary revival known as the Mitady ny Very which swept Madagascar in the 1930s. Rabearivelo wrote both in Malagasy and in his own unique version of imperfect French.
Born in Antananarivo (Tananarive), capital of Madagascar. His mother, who married a tailor, was an aristocrat, related to the royalty of the largest Malagasy ethnic group, the Merina people. In 1895 Malagasy armed forces had been defeated by the French, and the new administration led to the pauperization of most of the Merina royalty. .
Rabearivelo was educated by his uncle, ( sent to the Ecole des Freres des Ecoles Chretiennes - Andohalo, and after to the Collrge Saint-Michel in Amparibe. Left schooling at the thirteen continued to read widely the classics western. He was secretary and interpreter of the head of the Canton of Ambatolampy, and then returned to Tananarive. Rabearivelo worked in odd jobs, but ended as a proof-reader at the printing press in Imerina until his death. Razafitrimo, and have five children .A terrible blow for him was the death of his youngest daughter blow for In Un conte de la nuit, a short story, he recounts the family tragedy.
Rabearivelo's mother encouraged him to write at the age of 20 he published his first poems . In 1923 the international revue Anthropos accepted an article of him on the poetry of Madagascar. He contribute to journals in his own country, in the neighboring Mauritius, and in Europe. Rabearivelo's early poems were influenced by French Symbolist poets. In 1930s he lauched his own journal, Capricorne, in 1931 he was accepted into the Academie Malgachethe .Rab*arivelo never got a higher-paying job from the administration which he always hoped.
. In the 1910s several nationally prominent writers had been imprisoned, Malagasy- language writing was restricted, but memories of independence were still fresh under the colonial rule. In his early collections Rabearivelo's recurring theme was exile, the journey away from the native land, referring to the loss of independence. When all text written in French were considered to belong to French literature, Rabearivelo supported bilingual works and proposed that 'Malagasy literature' would recognize French-language texts composed by the Malagasy.
Like Baudelaire Rabearivelo was too much of an aesthetician to join the cadres of militant poets. He created his own world,-strange and mythical-,which was shadowed by visions of suffering and death, teeth marks of colonized civilization. Cosmos was for Rabearivelo full of sad beauty, wandering tribes, and bodies in perpetual mutation. His plays, Imaitsoanala, Fille d'oiseau (1935) and Aux portes de la ville (1936), focused on rituals and folklore and carefully avoided any reference to politically inflammable issues. On the other hand, none of his critical works were published in his lifetime.


I know a child, a prince in God's kingdom
Who would continue the tale:

'Fate too pity on the lepers
And told them to plant their flowers
And guard their springs afar from man's cruelty.'

(from Presque-songes, 1934)

Sunday, 5 April 2009

THE FIRE

Extreme Beauty

Thursday, 2 April 2009

THE WINDOW´S GUY

video

........sweating sunny afternoons.