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Friday, September 4, 2020

Aphorisms


Aphorisms

An aphorism is an ekphrasis about the portrait of life.

The sound of one hand clapping is very loud against the side of your head.

Don’t crow until the sun has fully risen.

You can’t teach an old dog.

Speech is golden when silence is gilded.           

Wit is the soul of irony.

An eye for an eye is the gaze between two lovers. A tooth for a tooth is a dental implant.

No evil is unmixed with good. Proportion makes all the difference.

Humanity is not a zero-sum game.

The most destructive alienation is not from a particular community or from society but from oneself.

Be moderate in all things, including moderation itself.        

Witness does not require words.

The virtue of silence involves the exercise of good judgment.

Technology is tyranny.

Mercy presupposes an unequal relationship between those who give mercy and those who receive it, because to be merciful is to give what we possess, sometimes in abundance, to our neighbor, so that we ourselves in some way experience deprivation and want.

Distraction is drinking coffee as you pray. Praying while you drink coffee is devotion.

We should not be so occupied with death that we forget to live.



Senecio (1922) by Paul Klee

Coffee


COFFEE

Coffee is a brown man
Made from soil,
Pressed into shape,
Fired shiny,
Waxen as a lizard,
Hat white like dried-out shells,
Pulling at reins of a rearing horse,
Hooves sharp as pickaxes
Kicking up bright clouds of lime.

Dark and fragrant visitor,
He makes his diffident presence felt:
Memories of fresh bread,
Woody nuts,
Heady camphor.
They lighten
Slumbering burdens,
Heavy luggage hauled about
By traveling sleepwalkers.

Swinging open the cabinet,
He hands out syrups to sweeten
Unfulfilled dreams,
Hot poultices to soothe
Unforgotten nightmares,
Tonics for the family,
Ointments for friends,
Infusions for the jaded,
Bandages for the heart.



Made from soil...

Time Is No More


TIME IS NO MORE

The sun dwells in darkness.
The moon lives in light.
The owl hunts at daytime.
The falcon prowls at night.

The dead dines with the living.
The living dreams, awake.
The eternal is not the future.
The river of time is a lake.



The owl hunts at daytime...

The clock has come…


The clock has come…

The clock has come
To tell the time.
He chimes to close
A line with rhyme,

End a stanza,
Chop chapters short—
A rifle volley,
A loud report,

Rushing winds,
Wistful bells,
Sacrificial flames,
Paper farewells.

So hasten to scatter
Blossoms of love—
Fading below,
Unforgotten above.



A rifle volley...

“My Soul Has a Hat” by Mário de Andrade Is Fake News


“MY SOUL HAS A HAT” BY MÁRIO DE ANDRADE IS FAKE NEWS

Some years now, a beautiful poem has been going around social media titled “My Soul Has a Hat” and attributed to the Brazilian poet, Mário de Andrade (1893-1945).

This post, for example, by Father Richard Landry of the La Salette Missionaries, reproduces an English translation of the Portuguese poem.


—Father Richard Landry, M.S., “My Soul Has a Hat,” La Salette Reflections

Although the original text in Portuguese is genuine, both the title and author is fake news.

Below is one English translation that’s been making the rounds.

begin

I counted my years and realized that I have less time to live by than I have lived so far.

I feel like a child who won a pack of candies. At first he ate them with pleasure, but when he realized that there was little left, he began to taste them intensely.

I have no time for endless meetings where the statutes, rules, procedures, and internal regulations are discussed, knowing that nothing will be done.

I no longer have the patience to stand absurd people who, despite their chronological age, have not grown up.

My time is too short: I want the essence. My spirit is in a hurry. I do not have much candy in the package anymore.

I want to live next to humans, very realistic people who know how to laugh at their mistakes and who are not inflated by their own triumphs and who take responsibility for their actions. In this way, human dignity is defended and we live in truth and honesty.

It is the essentials that make life useful. I want to surround myself with people who know how to touch the hearts of those whom hard strokes of life have learned to grow with sweet touches of the soul.

Yes, I’m in a hurry. I’m in a hurry to live with the intensity that only maturity can give. 

I do not intend to waste any of the remaining desserts. I am sure they will be exquisite, much more than those eaten so far. 

My goal is to reach the end satisfied and at peace with my loved ones and my conscience.

We have two lives and the second begins when you realize you have only one.

end

To many, including myself, it’s a masterpiece of a poem.

The purported title appears to allude to a soul on a spiritual journey who puts on a hat like a traveler.

The real title is “Tempo que Foge,” and the poem was written in Portuguese by Ricardo Gondim Rodrigues. See below from Wikipedia:

“Ricardo Gondim Rodrigues is a Brazilian theologian, progressive pastor, national president of the Betesda Church, based in São Paulo, president of the Christian Institute of Contemporary Studies, and lecturer. He has a radio program and is a columnist for several media outlets. He is an award-winning author of several controversial books and articles.

“He graduated in Theology from Genesis Training Center in California in 1977, and in Business Administration from the State University of Ceará in 1980, and [completed an] M.A. in Religious Studies [from] the Methodist University of São Paulo in 2009. He received the Areté Award from the Association of Christian Publishers in 2004.”

I did minor editing on the original English text copied from Wikipedia.

Various websites in Portuguese correct the false title and misattribution.

I used Google translate to access the content in English and did some minor editing on some of the Google translations.

“O texto não é nem do Mário de Andrade nem do Rubem Alves. O texto é do Ricardo Gondim.”

—“Um comentário por Leonardo Martins” (May 31, 2018), O Que Eu Fiz Hoje


English translation:

“The text is neither Mário de Andrade nor Rubem Alves. The text is by Ricardo Gondim.”

begin

Autor Ricardo Gondim, “O Tempo que Foge,” extraído do livro “Creio, Mas Tenho Dúvidas.”

Site do autor, onde ele faz referências à obra, e à confusão com a autoria do texto [link]

Pelo que conseguimos observar até ao momento (inclusive no vídeo), o texto acima é atribuído erradamente a diversos autores, nomeadamente:

Rubem Alves (que é também um entusiasta da Teologia da Libertação);
Mário de Andrade (1893-1945), escritor e fundador do Modernismo brasileiro;
Mário Coelho Pinto de Andrade (1928-1990), angolano, pelo equívoco do encurtamento do nome.

end

—António Cunha, “‘O Tempo que Foge’ de Ricardo Gondim” (February 12, 2017), Gabinete Português de Leitura, Bahia


English translation:

begin

Author Ricardo Gondim, “O Tempo que Foge,” extracted from the book “I believe, but I have doubts.”

Author’s website, where he makes references to the work and confusion with the authorship of the text [link]

From what we have seen so far (including in the video), the above text is wrongly attributed to several authors, namely:

Rubem Alves (who is also an enthusiast of Liberation Theology);
Mário de Andrade (1893-1945), writer and founder of Brazilian Modernism;
Mário Coelho Pinto de Andrade (1928-1990), Angolan, mistake the result of shortening the name

end

Following is what Gondim himself says on his website. He even gives the page number where his poem appears.

begin

Prezada Daisy,

Não, Daisy, o texto não é do Rubem Alves. Ele é meu! Eu o escrevi. Está em meu livro “Creio, mas Tenho Dúvidas”, publicado pela Editora Ultimato, com registro no ISBN, consta na página 107.

Portanto, se alguém, inescrupulosamente, atribui o texto a Rubem Alves, está sendo desonesto comigo e com a minha produção intelectual. Inclusive, sugiro que você pergunte diretamente ao Rubem Alves, se é de sua lavra “O Tempo que Foge.” Sendo ele um homem digno, honesto e verdadeiro, certamente, reconhecerá que o texto é meu.

Grato. Como você duvida da minha integridade, lamento, mas o mesmo texto tem sido atribuido a várias pessoas, inclusive a Mário de Andrade.

A única coisa que me resta é esperar que um dia a justiça prevaleça.

Sinceramente,

Ricardo Gondim

end

—Ricardo Gondim, “Querem roubar e ainda me chamam de ladrão” (December 13, 2011), Ricardo Gondim


English translation:

begin

Dear Daisy,

No, Daisy, the text is not from Rubem Alves. It is mine! I wrote it. It is in my book “I believe, but I have doubts,” published by Editora Ultimato, with ISBN registration, and the text appears on page 107.

Therefore, if someone unscrupulously attributes the text to Rubem Alves, they are being dishonest with me and [misattributing] my intellectual production. In fact, I suggest that you ask Rubem Alves directly if “O Tempo que Foge” is his work. Being a dignified, honest, and true man, he will certainly acknowledge that the text is mine.

Thank you. As you doubt my integrity, I am sorry, but the same text has been attributed to several people, including Mário de Andrade.

The only thing I have left is to hope that justice will one day prevail.

Sincerely,

Ricardo Gondim

end

A link to the Google Books copy yields the original text of “Tempo que Foge” on page 102 (not page 107) published in “Eu Creio, Mas Tenho Dúvidas,” copyright 2007.


“You can’t have fake news and democracy, too.”




Ricardo Gondim