Luz nos Trópicos (2020) - full transcript
And there was dawn,
Mavutsinim created the world.
The clouds drew messages,
and the night became day.
Mavutsinim said
that the beings would be eternal.
Created the man and the woman.
Said that the fishes
would sprout from the rocks
and would become water,
and rivers,
rapids.
Would become
sea,
wind,
storm,
air.
And twelve moons would pass,
and Mavutsinim determined
that his son would come back
to the promised land
where the men are eternal,
and hence the history of the world.
LIGHT IN THE TROPICS
There's not much firewood.
The weather is dry,
the earth is thirsty.
The harvest
will be smaller this year.
We wake up early in the village.
Then, after bathing,
we eat manioc and fish,
and go to harvest the manioc.
Our days are like this,
even on a full moon.
It's almost ready.
It's going to be good.
Look. This is how we work,
we light the fire with this.
Atuginha.
-Atuginha?
-Yes. Try it.
Yes, to fan the flames
and keep it alive.
-Atuginha.
-That's right.
Is it true?
I like it, you're learning.
These are our everyday things.
Here we make beiju.
-Tuahi.
-What?
Yes.
And this is angagi,
where we put the food
and it gets hot.
Exactly. That there, pass it to me.
-It's really very good.
-You're remembering...
-Angari.
-Angari?
Angari.
Say it with me.
Repeat...
Udagi, udagi.
U-da-gi.
Look at the stools
we're sitting on. Kadoho.
Kadoho.
Yes.
Want more?
Finished?
Is it good? Stay with us.
And this,
do you remember the name?
Do you know the name of this?
Do I know?
Kanagitahu.
Nagitahu.
Wrong.
Wrong, I understand.
You'll remember.
Water?
Back there.
Yes.
Look there in that pot.
This is porridge, drink it.
Porridge.
-Very good.
-That's good.
-Lisinh? hegei itit?.
-What?
Delicious.
Yes, this is really good.
It's made from manioc flour.
I liked it.
What are you doing?
I'm cutting a little more.
It's looking good.
Almost done.
Just here where it's longer.
Done.
Just this last lock.
I'm going to take the hair
off your face.
Now you're going to look beautiful.
What are we going to do?
We're really happy
to have you here with us.
-I also feel welcomed.
-That's good.
I came here so that we could talk.
Let's talk.
-I have few memories.
-I know.
I came from so far,
a cold and chaotic land.
You came from very far.
Listen to my grandfather's words.
I want to hear.
Your eyes are my eyes.
Your mouth is my mouth.
My shadow is in your shadow.
Your words are mine.
I liked the message.
Me too.
Many memories.
It's hot.
Very hot.
Yes.
Let's do the patterns here.
Ok.
So we can celebrate.
We're almost done.
You're looking very beautiful.
-Very good.
-Yes, you're very beautiful.
You'll look beautiful with urucum.
-Very good.
-Really good.
Embellish and sing.
Just this part at the back.
Life took me under its wing
to keep me and save me.
And it's true
I avoided the shipwreck,
yet I want more.
Without burnt leaves,
without broken branches,
a day as clean as glass,
yet I want more.
Now that summer's gone...
The journey remains in my mind
like a confused nightmare.
The passengers were preoccupied
neither with our position,
nor with the route
we had to follow,
nor with the nature
of the countries
which lay out of sight
behind the horizon.
For a number of days
that had been decided in advance,
it was not because a distance
had to be covered,
but because
they had to expiate the privilege
of being carried from one side
of the world to the other
without making, themselves,
the smallest exertion.
I'm passionate and full of desires.
Full of...
I'm a lover, lover...
I'm like a lover.
The last...
I'm passionate and full of hope.
For...
For the last smile.
For the first smile.
And that's how
I was brought up as an athlete.
And that's how
I was brought up as an athlete.
(The first smile of a beauty)
In all this splendour
gnawing at my feet in vain.
Naked, strong,
forehead plunged into the mist.
Shrouded in the mist,
the wind,
and in the night that intertwine.
I raise my arms
towards the dark ether.
In my opinion,
there are various
interrelated questions.
Therefore,
the question I ask myself today,
that I wish to speak of now,
is the following...
The first point
is an apparent contradiction...
Understand? Apparent!
Between
Hyppolite's thought
that "there is no error
in philosophy",
and Canguilhem's proposition,
"there is no philosophical truth".
In fact,
Hyppolite's proposition
was interpreted by some
as "the philosopher never errs".
I don't believe it was exactly this
that he wished to say.
The second question
is regarding
Canguilhem's elucidation.
And the third question,
that for me underlies the others,
relates to the philosophical
enterprise.
What does it mean to philosophize?
These questions are related.
I don't think they can be separated,
don't you think?
What do you think?
Your explanation is agreeable.
In what sense?
In the sense of...
the stars.
Apparently philosophy
does not interest you.
He comes.
Silently.
Doubtless he needs something.
He looks at us.
All we could find on the river's edge
were four or five deserted huts.
Not a soul to be seen.
And a rapid inspection satisfied us
that the hamlet
had been abandoned.
Our nerves were in shreds after
the efforts of the previous few days,
we felt near to despair.
Should we give the whole thing up?
We decided to make a last effort
before turning back,
each of us would start off
in a different direction
and explore the outskirts.
In the afternoon,
everyone returned discouraged.
They'd gone soft:
he-abed mornings, to begin with,
and indolent meals
which had long ceased
to be a pleasure
and were now merely a device
(and one that had to be made
to last as long as possible)
for getting through the day.
Don't ask me who I am
Because I won't say that
I only know that where I am going
Love will go with me
And with courage
I have changed my luck
Today I'm going towards life
Today I'm going towards life
Before I was going towards death
When I asked for justice
They did not give it to me
When I wanted to love
Nobody loved me
When I formed a nest
In betrayal, they burned it
When I prayed to Christ
My prayers were not answered
Don't ask me who I am
Because I won't say that
I only know that where I am going
Love will go with me
And with courage
I have changed my luck
Today I'm going...
Towards life
Today I'm going towards life
Before I was going
Towards death
The Pleiades can be seen
by the naked eye.
I once counted 14 stars going out
in a single night.
They are brighter stars.
And they are among the objects
of the deep sky
known of since the distant past.
Look.
The nebulae of the Pleiades
are blue.
Nebulae of reflection,
that reflect the light
from the closest stars.
The world began without man.
And will end without him.
Light in the tropics.
What impedes man
from attaining happiness
is not his nature,
but the artifices of civilization.
I shall have occasion
to describe trips
that I remember better
than the one in question.
I shall therefore say only
that it took us eight days
to work our way upstream,
the river being swollen by the rains.
Once, when we were lunching
on a little sandbank,
we heard the rustling movement...
of a boa, seven yards long,
that we had awakened
with our talk.
It took a lot of lead to kill it,
for the boa cares nothing
for body-wounds.
The head alone is vulnerable.
When we came to skin it,
took us half a day,
we found a dozen little boas
already alive
and on the point of being born;
the sun killed them off.
Ow! Fuck!
To left and right
were clumps of shrubs
spaced out as if in an orchard.
At a distance
they formed into dark masses,
while the sky,
reflected in the water,
projected here and there
its own likeness beneath the branches.
Everything seemed
to be simmering at a low heat,
it was a stew that would take
a long time to mature.
If it was possible to linger
for thousands of years
in this prehistoric landscape
and to follow
its evolution closely,
we should, no doubt, witness
the transformation of organic matter
into peat, or coal, or petrol.
I even thought that I saw
some petrol rising to the surface,
staining the water
with its delicate iridescence.
And in the beginning God
created the sky
And in the beginning God
created the Earth
Yet the Earth was chaos
And darkness dominated all
Then God's finger
made light
Then God's finger made man
Then God's finger
made the one who seduces
And the world grew?
And the world grew
Everything changed
and someone asked
Did God change?
Or did we change our god?
Did God change?
Or did we change our god?
Might the one who created the sky
Be the one who'll destroy Earth?
Might the one who created light
(from shadow)
Be the one who'll destroy Earth
(with the bomb)?
Because for the bomb to explode
Someone has to press the button
Might it be man?
Might it be woman?
Might they press the button
whenever they wish?
What will the finger be like
of the one who presses the button?
What will the finger be like
of the one who presses the...
Listen...
to the sound of nature.
Listen...
the noise
of nature.
Listen to it.
The noises
of nature.
Did you sleep well?
Not at all.
Did you sleep well, sir?
Not at all. Not at all.
It's not tiredness.
I don't feel tired.
Despite the oppressive heat.
I feel like a harnessed horse.
Thank you.
Do you wish to leave?
Or to stay here?
It's not that I want
to stay here either.
I had heard...
I must have heard tell of the view,
the distant sea, in the background,
in hammered lead.
The so-called golden vale
so often sung.
The double valleys,
the glacial loughs,
the city in its haze.
It was all on every tongue.
Anyway...
who are these people?
Who are you all?
Did they follow me up here?
Came before me, came with me?
The sound of nature.
The sound of nature.
I'm down in the hole
the centuries have dug.
Celtic beliefs
that the souls
of those whom we have lost...
In an animal, in a vegetable,
in an inanimate thing...
In an animal, in a vegetable,
in an inanimate thing
and so effectively lost
to us.
Which, to many never comes,
when we happen to pass by the tree
and obtain possession
of the object
which forms their prison.
And obtain possession
of the object
which forms...
In an inferior being,
in an animal,
in a vegetable,
in an inanimate thing.
In an inferior being,
in an animal,
in a vegetable,
in an inanimate thing.
And in the midst of the storm,
he reaches God.
Don't ask me who I am
Because I won't say that
I only know that where I am going
Love will go with me
And with courage
I have changed my luck
Today I'm going towards life
Today I'm going towards life
Before I was going towards death
Then a man appeared
during that night
and he talked about the Sun,
and the Sun appeared.
Talked about the Moon,
and the Moon appeared.
And then the Earth.
And made the water
with the fish that everyone eats,
did the forests
and filled it with animals to hunt.
So he got the clay
and made a boy.
And when he grew up,
while that child was asleep,
he took away two ribs
and made a girl.
Your eyes are my eyes.
Your mouth is my mouth.
My shadow is in your shadow.
Your words are mine.
When he woke up,
he saw the girl next to him
and said:
"Look, there's a girl here."
And then the son of God said:
"This girl is for you to raise,
but don't mess with her."
But the boy liked the girl,
and they fell in love.
Could play with the clay
and create living beings.
And the girl created animals,
plants and asteroids,
and whatever she thought of,
happened.
And so the days went by
until the last living beings of Earth
were extinguished.
Only Indians, black, poor, sick,
children and the old were left.
And the living beings would have
to learn everything again
or else only air and wind would be left,
and some shooting stars.
And that's how
I was brought up as an athlete.
Love...
in all its greatness.
Total love in time.
Naked, strong,
forehead plunged into the mist...
Love...
Profane love...
Shrouded in the mist,
the wind,
and in the night that intertwine.
I raise my arms
towards the dark ether.
Daybreak is a prelude,
and nightfall an overture,
but an overture which comes at the end,
and not at the beginning.
The look of the sun
foretells what
the next hours will bring,
dark and livid, that is to say,
if we are in for a wet morning,
and pink, frothy,
and insubstantial.
But as to the rest of the day,
the dawn makes no promises.
It simply sets the meteorological stage
and adds a direction:
it will rain
or it will be good weather.
The sunset, on the other hand,
is a complete performance
with a beginning, middle, and end.
A synopsis
of all that has happened -
fighting, triumphs and defeats -
during the previous 12 hours tangibly,
but very slowly.
Dawn is simply the day's beginning.
Sunset, the day run through again.
That is why people
pay more attention to sunset
than to sunrise.
Dawn merely adds a footnote
to what they have already learnt
from barometer
and thermometer or,
in the case of the less civilized,
from the phases of the moon,
the flight of birds,
and the oscillations of the tide.
Remembrance is a source
of profound pleasure,
though not to the extent
that it is complete,
for few would wish to live over again,
literally, sufferings
and exhaustions which are, nonetheless,
a pleasure to look back upon.
Remembrance is life itself,
but it has another quality.
And so
it is that when the sun lowers itself
towards the polished surface
of a flat calm at sea
like a coin thrown down
by a miser in the heavens,
or when its disc
outlines the mountain-tops
like a metal sheet
at once hard and lacy,
then man has a brief vision,
a hallucination,
a brief vision, a hallucination,
one might say, of the indecipherable
forces, the vapours
and fulgurations
whose obscure conflicts he has glimpsed
vaguely, within the depths of himself,
from time to time during the day.
These inner spiritual struggles
must have been sinister indeed,
for the day
had not been marked
by any outward event
that might have justified
an atmospheric upheaval.
It had, indeed, been featureless.
Around four in the afternoon,
just at that moment
when the sun is half-way through
and is becoming less distinct,
though not, as yet, less brilliant,
and the thick
golden light pours down
as if to mask
certain preliminaries.
A light swell had set her rolling.
Nobody had paid
any attention to it,
for nothing is so much like
a transfer in geometry
as a passage on the high seas.
There is no landscape
to point up the transition
from one latitude to the next,
or the crossing of an isotherm
or a pluviometric curve.
Thirty miles on dry land
can make us feel
that we have changed planets.
But, to the inexperienced eye,
each of the three thousand miles at sea
is much like the last.
To the scholars,
dawn and twilight
are one and the same phenomenon.
And the Greeks thought the same,
since they used the same word for both,
qualifying it differently
according to whether morning
or evening was in question.
This confusion is an excellent
illustration of our tendency
to put theory first
and take no account
of the practical aspect of the matter.
Between the zone
of incidence of the sun's rays
and the zone in which
the light vanishes or returns,
it is perfectly possible.
No two things could be more different
than morning and evening.
Daybreak is a prelude,
and nightfall an overture,
but an overture which comes at the end,
and not, as in most operas,
at the beginning.
The look of the sun foretells
what the next hours will bring,
dark and livid, that's to say,
if we are in for a wet morning,
and pink, frothy, and insubstantial
if the weather is to be fine.
But as to the rest of the day,
the dawn makes no promises.
It simply sets the meteorological stage,
and adds a direction:
it will rain
or it will be good weather.
The sunset, on the other hand,
is a complete performance
with a beginning, middle, and end.
It will rain
or it will be good weather.
The sunset, on the other hand,
is a complete performance
with a beginning, middle, and end.
A synopsis
of all that has happened -
fighting, triumphs and defeats -
during the previous 12 hours tangibly,
but very slowly.
Dawn is simply the day's beginning.
Sunset, the day run through again.
That is why people
pay more attention to sunset
than to sunrise.
Dawn merely adds a footnote
to what they have already learnt
from barometer
and thermometer or,
in the case of the less civilized,
from the phases of the moon,
the flight of birds,
and the oscillations of the tide.
And the oscillations of the tide.
Whereas a sunset
reunites within
its mysterious configurations
the twists and turns
of wind and rain,
heat and cold.
And the oscillations of the tide.
Whereas a sunset
reunites within
its mysterious configurations
the twists and turns
of wind and rain,
heat and cold,
to which their physical being
has been exposed.
And in the night that intertwine.
Shrouded in the mist,
the wind
and in the night that intertwine.
I raise my arms
towards the dark ether.
Mavutsinim created the world.
The clouds drew messages,
and the night became day.
Mavutsinim said
that the beings would be eternal.
Created the man and the woman.
Said that the fishes
would sprout from the rocks
and would become water,
and rivers,
rapids.
Would become
sea,
wind,
storm,
air.
And twelve moons would pass,
and Mavutsinim determined
that his son would come back
to the promised land
where the men are eternal,
and hence the history of the world.
LIGHT IN THE TROPICS
There's not much firewood.
The weather is dry,
the earth is thirsty.
The harvest
will be smaller this year.
We wake up early in the village.
Then, after bathing,
we eat manioc and fish,
and go to harvest the manioc.
Our days are like this,
even on a full moon.
It's almost ready.
It's going to be good.
Look. This is how we work,
we light the fire with this.
Atuginha.
-Atuginha?
-Yes. Try it.
Yes, to fan the flames
and keep it alive.
-Atuginha.
-That's right.
Is it true?
I like it, you're learning.
These are our everyday things.
Here we make beiju.
-Tuahi.
-What?
Yes.
And this is angagi,
where we put the food
and it gets hot.
Exactly. That there, pass it to me.
-It's really very good.
-You're remembering...
-Angari.
-Angari?
Angari.
Say it with me.
Repeat...
Udagi, udagi.
U-da-gi.
Look at the stools
we're sitting on. Kadoho.
Kadoho.
Yes.
Want more?
Finished?
Is it good? Stay with us.
And this,
do you remember the name?
Do you know the name of this?
Do I know?
Kanagitahu.
Nagitahu.
Wrong.
Wrong, I understand.
You'll remember.
Water?
Back there.
Yes.
Look there in that pot.
This is porridge, drink it.
Porridge.
-Very good.
-That's good.
-Lisinh? hegei itit?.
-What?
Delicious.
Yes, this is really good.
It's made from manioc flour.
I liked it.
What are you doing?
I'm cutting a little more.
It's looking good.
Almost done.
Just here where it's longer.
Done.
Just this last lock.
I'm going to take the hair
off your face.
Now you're going to look beautiful.
What are we going to do?
We're really happy
to have you here with us.
-I also feel welcomed.
-That's good.
I came here so that we could talk.
Let's talk.
-I have few memories.
-I know.
I came from so far,
a cold and chaotic land.
You came from very far.
Listen to my grandfather's words.
I want to hear.
Your eyes are my eyes.
Your mouth is my mouth.
My shadow is in your shadow.
Your words are mine.
I liked the message.
Me too.
Many memories.
It's hot.
Very hot.
Yes.
Let's do the patterns here.
Ok.
So we can celebrate.
We're almost done.
You're looking very beautiful.
-Very good.
-Yes, you're very beautiful.
You'll look beautiful with urucum.
-Very good.
-Really good.
Embellish and sing.
Just this part at the back.
Life took me under its wing
to keep me and save me.
And it's true
I avoided the shipwreck,
yet I want more.
Without burnt leaves,
without broken branches,
a day as clean as glass,
yet I want more.
Now that summer's gone...
The journey remains in my mind
like a confused nightmare.
The passengers were preoccupied
neither with our position,
nor with the route
we had to follow,
nor with the nature
of the countries
which lay out of sight
behind the horizon.
For a number of days
that had been decided in advance,
it was not because a distance
had to be covered,
but because
they had to expiate the privilege
of being carried from one side
of the world to the other
without making, themselves,
the smallest exertion.
I'm passionate and full of desires.
Full of...
I'm a lover, lover...
I'm like a lover.
The last...
I'm passionate and full of hope.
For...
For the last smile.
For the first smile.
And that's how
I was brought up as an athlete.
And that's how
I was brought up as an athlete.
(The first smile of a beauty)
In all this splendour
gnawing at my feet in vain.
Naked, strong,
forehead plunged into the mist.
Shrouded in the mist,
the wind,
and in the night that intertwine.
I raise my arms
towards the dark ether.
In my opinion,
there are various
interrelated questions.
Therefore,
the question I ask myself today,
that I wish to speak of now,
is the following...
The first point
is an apparent contradiction...
Understand? Apparent!
Between
Hyppolite's thought
that "there is no error
in philosophy",
and Canguilhem's proposition,
"there is no philosophical truth".
In fact,
Hyppolite's proposition
was interpreted by some
as "the philosopher never errs".
I don't believe it was exactly this
that he wished to say.
The second question
is regarding
Canguilhem's elucidation.
And the third question,
that for me underlies the others,
relates to the philosophical
enterprise.
What does it mean to philosophize?
These questions are related.
I don't think they can be separated,
don't you think?
What do you think?
Your explanation is agreeable.
In what sense?
In the sense of...
the stars.
Apparently philosophy
does not interest you.
He comes.
Silently.
Doubtless he needs something.
He looks at us.
All we could find on the river's edge
were four or five deserted huts.
Not a soul to be seen.
And a rapid inspection satisfied us
that the hamlet
had been abandoned.
Our nerves were in shreds after
the efforts of the previous few days,
we felt near to despair.
Should we give the whole thing up?
We decided to make a last effort
before turning back,
each of us would start off
in a different direction
and explore the outskirts.
In the afternoon,
everyone returned discouraged.
They'd gone soft:
he-abed mornings, to begin with,
and indolent meals
which had long ceased
to be a pleasure
and were now merely a device
(and one that had to be made
to last as long as possible)
for getting through the day.
Don't ask me who I am
Because I won't say that
I only know that where I am going
Love will go with me
And with courage
I have changed my luck
Today I'm going towards life
Today I'm going towards life
Before I was going towards death
When I asked for justice
They did not give it to me
When I wanted to love
Nobody loved me
When I formed a nest
In betrayal, they burned it
When I prayed to Christ
My prayers were not answered
Don't ask me who I am
Because I won't say that
I only know that where I am going
Love will go with me
And with courage
I have changed my luck
Today I'm going...
Towards life
Today I'm going towards life
Before I was going
Towards death
The Pleiades can be seen
by the naked eye.
I once counted 14 stars going out
in a single night.
They are brighter stars.
And they are among the objects
of the deep sky
known of since the distant past.
Look.
The nebulae of the Pleiades
are blue.
Nebulae of reflection,
that reflect the light
from the closest stars.
The world began without man.
And will end without him.
Light in the tropics.
What impedes man
from attaining happiness
is not his nature,
but the artifices of civilization.
I shall have occasion
to describe trips
that I remember better
than the one in question.
I shall therefore say only
that it took us eight days
to work our way upstream,
the river being swollen by the rains.
Once, when we were lunching
on a little sandbank,
we heard the rustling movement...
of a boa, seven yards long,
that we had awakened
with our talk.
It took a lot of lead to kill it,
for the boa cares nothing
for body-wounds.
The head alone is vulnerable.
When we came to skin it,
took us half a day,
we found a dozen little boas
already alive
and on the point of being born;
the sun killed them off.
Ow! Fuck!
To left and right
were clumps of shrubs
spaced out as if in an orchard.
At a distance
they formed into dark masses,
while the sky,
reflected in the water,
projected here and there
its own likeness beneath the branches.
Everything seemed
to be simmering at a low heat,
it was a stew that would take
a long time to mature.
If it was possible to linger
for thousands of years
in this prehistoric landscape
and to follow
its evolution closely,
we should, no doubt, witness
the transformation of organic matter
into peat, or coal, or petrol.
I even thought that I saw
some petrol rising to the surface,
staining the water
with its delicate iridescence.
And in the beginning God
created the sky
And in the beginning God
created the Earth
Yet the Earth was chaos
And darkness dominated all
Then God's finger
made light
Then God's finger made man
Then God's finger
made the one who seduces
And the world grew?
And the world grew
Everything changed
and someone asked
Did God change?
Or did we change our god?
Did God change?
Or did we change our god?
Might the one who created the sky
Be the one who'll destroy Earth?
Might the one who created light
(from shadow)
Be the one who'll destroy Earth
(with the bomb)?
Because for the bomb to explode
Someone has to press the button
Might it be man?
Might it be woman?
Might they press the button
whenever they wish?
What will the finger be like
of the one who presses the button?
What will the finger be like
of the one who presses the...
Listen...
to the sound of nature.
Listen...
the noise
of nature.
Listen to it.
The noises
of nature.
Did you sleep well?
Not at all.
Did you sleep well, sir?
Not at all. Not at all.
It's not tiredness.
I don't feel tired.
Despite the oppressive heat.
I feel like a harnessed horse.
Thank you.
Do you wish to leave?
Or to stay here?
It's not that I want
to stay here either.
I had heard...
I must have heard tell of the view,
the distant sea, in the background,
in hammered lead.
The so-called golden vale
so often sung.
The double valleys,
the glacial loughs,
the city in its haze.
It was all on every tongue.
Anyway...
who are these people?
Who are you all?
Did they follow me up here?
Came before me, came with me?
The sound of nature.
The sound of nature.
I'm down in the hole
the centuries have dug.
Celtic beliefs
that the souls
of those whom we have lost...
In an animal, in a vegetable,
in an inanimate thing...
In an animal, in a vegetable,
in an inanimate thing
and so effectively lost
to us.
Which, to many never comes,
when we happen to pass by the tree
and obtain possession
of the object
which forms their prison.
And obtain possession
of the object
which forms...
In an inferior being,
in an animal,
in a vegetable,
in an inanimate thing.
In an inferior being,
in an animal,
in a vegetable,
in an inanimate thing.
And in the midst of the storm,
he reaches God.
Don't ask me who I am
Because I won't say that
I only know that where I am going
Love will go with me
And with courage
I have changed my luck
Today I'm going towards life
Today I'm going towards life
Before I was going towards death
Then a man appeared
during that night
and he talked about the Sun,
and the Sun appeared.
Talked about the Moon,
and the Moon appeared.
And then the Earth.
And made the water
with the fish that everyone eats,
did the forests
and filled it with animals to hunt.
So he got the clay
and made a boy.
And when he grew up,
while that child was asleep,
he took away two ribs
and made a girl.
Your eyes are my eyes.
Your mouth is my mouth.
My shadow is in your shadow.
Your words are mine.
When he woke up,
he saw the girl next to him
and said:
"Look, there's a girl here."
And then the son of God said:
"This girl is for you to raise,
but don't mess with her."
But the boy liked the girl,
and they fell in love.
Could play with the clay
and create living beings.
And the girl created animals,
plants and asteroids,
and whatever she thought of,
happened.
And so the days went by
until the last living beings of Earth
were extinguished.
Only Indians, black, poor, sick,
children and the old were left.
And the living beings would have
to learn everything again
or else only air and wind would be left,
and some shooting stars.
And that's how
I was brought up as an athlete.
Love...
in all its greatness.
Total love in time.
Naked, strong,
forehead plunged into the mist...
Love...
Profane love...
Shrouded in the mist,
the wind,
and in the night that intertwine.
I raise my arms
towards the dark ether.
Daybreak is a prelude,
and nightfall an overture,
but an overture which comes at the end,
and not at the beginning.
The look of the sun
foretells what
the next hours will bring,
dark and livid, that is to say,
if we are in for a wet morning,
and pink, frothy,
and insubstantial.
But as to the rest of the day,
the dawn makes no promises.
It simply sets the meteorological stage
and adds a direction:
it will rain
or it will be good weather.
The sunset, on the other hand,
is a complete performance
with a beginning, middle, and end.
A synopsis
of all that has happened -
fighting, triumphs and defeats -
during the previous 12 hours tangibly,
but very slowly.
Dawn is simply the day's beginning.
Sunset, the day run through again.
That is why people
pay more attention to sunset
than to sunrise.
Dawn merely adds a footnote
to what they have already learnt
from barometer
and thermometer or,
in the case of the less civilized,
from the phases of the moon,
the flight of birds,
and the oscillations of the tide.
Remembrance is a source
of profound pleasure,
though not to the extent
that it is complete,
for few would wish to live over again,
literally, sufferings
and exhaustions which are, nonetheless,
a pleasure to look back upon.
Remembrance is life itself,
but it has another quality.
And so
it is that when the sun lowers itself
towards the polished surface
of a flat calm at sea
like a coin thrown down
by a miser in the heavens,
or when its disc
outlines the mountain-tops
like a metal sheet
at once hard and lacy,
then man has a brief vision,
a hallucination,
a brief vision, a hallucination,
one might say, of the indecipherable
forces, the vapours
and fulgurations
whose obscure conflicts he has glimpsed
vaguely, within the depths of himself,
from time to time during the day.
These inner spiritual struggles
must have been sinister indeed,
for the day
had not been marked
by any outward event
that might have justified
an atmospheric upheaval.
It had, indeed, been featureless.
Around four in the afternoon,
just at that moment
when the sun is half-way through
and is becoming less distinct,
though not, as yet, less brilliant,
and the thick
golden light pours down
as if to mask
certain preliminaries.
A light swell had set her rolling.
Nobody had paid
any attention to it,
for nothing is so much like
a transfer in geometry
as a passage on the high seas.
There is no landscape
to point up the transition
from one latitude to the next,
or the crossing of an isotherm
or a pluviometric curve.
Thirty miles on dry land
can make us feel
that we have changed planets.
But, to the inexperienced eye,
each of the three thousand miles at sea
is much like the last.
To the scholars,
dawn and twilight
are one and the same phenomenon.
And the Greeks thought the same,
since they used the same word for both,
qualifying it differently
according to whether morning
or evening was in question.
This confusion is an excellent
illustration of our tendency
to put theory first
and take no account
of the practical aspect of the matter.
Between the zone
of incidence of the sun's rays
and the zone in which
the light vanishes or returns,
it is perfectly possible.
No two things could be more different
than morning and evening.
Daybreak is a prelude,
and nightfall an overture,
but an overture which comes at the end,
and not, as in most operas,
at the beginning.
The look of the sun foretells
what the next hours will bring,
dark and livid, that's to say,
if we are in for a wet morning,
and pink, frothy, and insubstantial
if the weather is to be fine.
But as to the rest of the day,
the dawn makes no promises.
It simply sets the meteorological stage,
and adds a direction:
it will rain
or it will be good weather.
The sunset, on the other hand,
is a complete performance
with a beginning, middle, and end.
It will rain
or it will be good weather.
The sunset, on the other hand,
is a complete performance
with a beginning, middle, and end.
A synopsis
of all that has happened -
fighting, triumphs and defeats -
during the previous 12 hours tangibly,
but very slowly.
Dawn is simply the day's beginning.
Sunset, the day run through again.
That is why people
pay more attention to sunset
than to sunrise.
Dawn merely adds a footnote
to what they have already learnt
from barometer
and thermometer or,
in the case of the less civilized,
from the phases of the moon,
the flight of birds,
and the oscillations of the tide.
And the oscillations of the tide.
Whereas a sunset
reunites within
its mysterious configurations
the twists and turns
of wind and rain,
heat and cold.
And the oscillations of the tide.
Whereas a sunset
reunites within
its mysterious configurations
the twists and turns
of wind and rain,
heat and cold,
to which their physical being
has been exposed.
And in the night that intertwine.
Shrouded in the mist,
the wind
and in the night that intertwine.
I raise my arms
towards the dark ether.