Os teus olhos - A. Magalhães Pinto

POEMA VIII 
(A. Magalhães Pinto)

OS TEUS OLHOS

Os teus olhos

brilhantes

parecem dois lumes...

Mendigos

errantes...

Duas facas...dois gumes...

Pupilas

brincando

com o sol do poente...

Ladinas,

amando

em mim, toda a gente...

Pestanas

tramadas,

em lindo tear...

Felizes,

abertas

na hora de amar...

Ai!... esses teus olhos!...

Promessas

cumpridas

dum sonho de amor,

em horas

vividas

com todo o calor...

Cantando,

baixinho,

os nomes mais ternos...

Duas aves

sem ninho,

temendo os Invernos!...

Dois sóis...

Par romeiro...

Dois grandes navios...

Duas flores

com o cheiro

de pinheiros bravios...

Ai! esses teus olhos!...

Dois tempos...

Dois modos

de ser sinfonia,

com notas

a roda

na maior harmonia...

Sorrindo,

felizes,

esperando o que for...

De muitos

matizes,

se fazem amor...

Dois olhos!...

Um mundo

numa ilha esquecida...

O mar

onde afundo

toda a minha vida!...

Ai esses teus olhos

ao alcance da mão!...

Uma prenda

que prendo

no meu coração!...

Magalhães Pinto

My Quest and the deep blue ocean - by Tisha

My Quest

Paradise found….paradise lost,

an everlasting quest,

for the unknown enigma that is you.,

Just out of reach,

so near

yet so unreachable.

A distant memory

of your soft brown eyes,

full of compassion, mirth and fire,

your hair, with bronze highlights,

shining in the late afternoon sun.

your aura of mystery and  intelligence,

all mixed together,

is all that my mind recalls.

Your closeness disconcerted me 
at our farewell,

a soft brush of your sensual lips 
against mine,

your eyes wildly surprised 
at my unsuspected gesture.

If only you knew,

how my heart is yearning

for your touch,

for your voice whispering my name

softly behind my ear,

for your lips touching my sensitive neck.

The gates of paradise would open

in all its glory,

and reveal pent-up emotions

of unpredictable magnitude.

fire and lust,

desire and a promise of fulfillment

But my incompleteness just deepens,

with the uncertainty

of a re-encounter

of unfinished desires,

left unattended for too long.

Paradise lost on the horizon,

as I stare sad and without hope

at the immense ocean before me.

Vida Meia - Half Life - Alpha

VIDA MEIA                                                                      HALF LIFE

O sentir que me depreda                                 The feeling that haunts me                                

Não cabe nas horas que o dia tem                     does not fit in the hours of the day

Fecho os olhos, abro a alma                                 I close my eyes, and open my soul

Vejo-te adejar em meu redor.                                 And see you flutter around me.

Não sei bem quem és                                                I’m not sure who you really are

Minha flor de lotus,                                                     my lotus flower

Mas as asas do desejo que brandes                     but the wings of desire that you wield

Quando, qual anjo celestial,                                  when like a heavenly angel

te moves em meu redor                                            you move around me,

Desarticulam a existência                                           Breaks up the existence

que em mim encerrava.                                                that encloses me

Sinto-te de tal modo,                                            I feel you in such a manner,

Insanamente intenso,                                             so insanely intense

Que a brisa desse teu brandir                                  That the breeze that you wield

Me faz gravitar em teu redor.                                    makes me gravitate around you

Nada mais existe…                                                       nothing else exists….

E mesmo o que antes era certo                              And even that which was right before,

Hoje, com a mirada do teu sussurrar,                       Today, with the sound of your whisper

Queda-se enturvecido.                                                becomes vaguely clouded.

E este palpitar é tão mais estranho                         And this throbbing is even more strange

Que mesmo nesta ofuscação                                   when even in this dimness

A luz flui de forma translúcida                               A light flows in a translucent form

E a vida que possuo                                            And the life that I have

Parece apenas meia                                         only seems half-lived

Incompleta                                                       incomplete

Quase sem sentido.                                       almost meaningless.

A tribute to my friend Magalhães Pinto - by Tisha

It would have been Anton's birthday today,

but sadly, he suddenly passed away ,

on the 6th September 2011.

We shared poems, music, prose, chats,
and solid critisism about politics and politicians. 
He corrected many of my tentative efforts of writing poetry
in his native language, portuguese. 
His fine sense of humour
and his clear vision of world events
always amazed me.
His prolific writing of various books, articles
and blogs, earned him respect of a wide reading audience.
His refined musical taste, that he generously shared,
makes for unforgettable memories. 

His unselfishness has always touched me deeply
as a supreme sign of his integrity as a special human being.
His sudden passing away left a deep emptiness to his many admirers.

António Adélio Magahães Pinto
will be sincerely remembered for a long-long time.
RIP my dearest friend, Anton!

"Tread softly on my dreams" - W.B. Yeats

".....but I, being poor, have ONLY my dreams,

I have spread my dreams under your feet,

Tread softly.....

because you are treading on my dreams".

W.B.Yeats

Spring poppies - by Tisha

Scarlet wings

in the wind,

glorious pride

waving in the sun;

Warm touch of joy

overwhelms the soul

and embraces the wind.

Plenitude of Life!

The rising moon - by Tisha

The rising moon,

aglow as if on fire

in red and gold attire,

against the dark blue horizon,

calls for the nostalgic touch

of your burning lips,

on my softest skin.

A lone Stradivari

of bow and solo treble pitch,

sways on the moonbeams,

pulling my mixed-emotion

heart strings

while we breathe in the scent of violets,

with a musty perfume of moss and earth.

oh, I shiver, as I behold

the beauty of your eyes

in flaming fire

of deepest desire.

Oh moonshine bright,

look down on our plight,

yearning for delicious

fulfilment,

with dancing fireflies

on a bouquet

of sweet-smelling violets.

Carnal Apple - Pablo Neruda

‘Carnal apple, Woman filled, burning moon,’

Carnal apple, Woman filled, burning moon,

dark smell of seaweed, crush of mud and light,

what secret knowledge is clasped between your pillars?

What primal night does Man touch with his senses?

Ay, Love is a journey through waters and stars,

through suffocating air, sharp tempests of grain:

Love is a war of lightning,

and two bodies ruined by a single sweetness.

Kiss by kiss I cover your tiny infinity,

your margins, your rivers, your diminutive villages,

and a genital fire, transformed by delight,

slips through the narrow channels of blood

to precipitate a nocturnal carnation,

to be, and be nothing but light in the dark.

Pablo Neruda

Brave women - fighting cancer

O teu rosto - by Tisha

No teu rosto                                                       In your face,

vejo a madrugada,                                           I see the dawn,

calmo e sereno,                                              calm and serene

Os teus olhos castanhos                                 your brown eyes

sempre presentes                                         are always present

nos meus sonhos                                   in my open-eyed dreams

de olhos abertos.

Os lábios teus,                                                     Your lips

rios de frescura,                                        rivers of freshness;

mel do meu desejo.                                    honey of my desire.

A tua pele                                                            Your skin,

suave, moreno,                                                    soft brown

translúcido,                                                        translucent

delicioso                                                               delicious

chocolate quente.                                            hot chocolate.

Os teus cabelos                                        Your dark-brown hair,

castanhos escuros brilhantes,                   brilliantly shining

desperta-me embriagada                 awakens me half-drunk,

ao vento                                                          on the wind

da nostalgia.                                                   of nostalgia.

The Last Horizon - Magalhães Pinto

The last horizon

of my way...

A new land of sweetness...

a promised caress...

an universe of happiness...

...are about to fade away...

lightless stardust,

made of despair...

shivering clouds...

rains of crystals...

Winds aware

of their shouts...

waves and seas...

storms of feelings,

crying in the dark...

wingless bees...

adjourned meetings...

frontiers that mark

the no-trespassing skies...

orphans and widows

looking for love

responding to their cries...

a thousand lost shadows

flying well above

the cosmic limits...

... come all near me...

surround me...

drown me...

erase me

from the face of earth…

take me with you

to an empty land..

..be sure...

I will understand!...

photo by Tisha Smit

Dr Adélio António Magalhães Pinto, author of the above poem passed away unexpectently on 6th September 2011

Retrato - Eugénio de Andrade

No teu rosto começa a madrugada.

Luz abrindo,

de rosa em rosa,

transparente e molhada.

Melodia

distante mas segura;

irrompendo da terra,

quente, redonda, madura.

Mar imenso,

praia deserta, horizontal e calma.

Sabor agreste.

Rosto da minha alma.

Foto Tisha Smit

Choro - Eugénio de Andrade

Choras, e nem eu posso

mais do que lágrimas, coisas frias,

sobre as tuas mãos abandonadas

à janela dos dias.

Alta tristeza de cabelos de água,

é o meu rosto que se demora

- meu coração

escreve na noite como quem chora.

Foto Tisha Smit

Fleeting moments - by Tisha

Swaying in the summer breeze

facing the glorious dawn with glee;

or observing the distant sunset,

flaming red on the horison,

or resisting the midday sun,

or the sweltering heat in the afternoon;

or drinking in the early morning dew,

or the ranging stormy rain,

sometimes silent witness to lovers' encounters,

admiring the full moon's reflection

on an open, calm sea,

are these dangling grass seeds,

which are here today;

but gone tomorrow.

Just like fleeting moments

of existence, flimsy,

insecure, temporary,

awaiting a rebirth.

Photo by Tisha

Lagoa de Óbidos - A Oeste - João Martins Pereira

In the photos, we can clearly see Gronho, the giant sentry Rock, and how the oceanic Sea, breached through the Aberta, gaining full access to the Lagoa de Óbidos, remaking a completely new scenário, destroying the man-made beach. The Ocean reclaims what belongs to it by the incredible force of Nature! Both photos were taken on the 31-01-2010

by Laetitia Smit

Há 50 anos que sei de ti,

mas sei que ainda não te conheço.

Vi-te, senhora do engenho e do capricho,

mil vezes mudar de cara;

meiga ou violenta,

generosa ou pérfida;

reinavas sobre os peixes e as gentes,

as águas e as areias.

Nem o Mar Oceano rompia

a tua porta Aberta fechada.

A cada partida, sussurrava, maternal,

a carta da Vida aos robalos,

aos sargos a às douradas,

aos flamingos, às garças e às tarambolas.

O gigante, sentinela de pedra alerta,

os chamaria na hora de voltar.

Viste-me nascer,

ganhar asas e voar para longe;

como um jovem pássaro,

tonto pela vertigem da primeira migração,

acreditei que o vento sopra sempre na mesma direcção,

que a maré vaza não volta a encher.

E pensei em Adeus.

Depois, em tanto e tanto Mundo,

te entrevi que,

finalmente, entendi o teu silêncio sábio

e ouvi o grito do Gronho.

Olho para ti e sei que voltei a casa!

João Martins Pereira

I don't know you,

although I have known about you for fifty years.

I saw you, Lady of device and whim,

changing faces a thousand times;

submissive or violent; generous or evil,

ruling over fish and folk;

waters and sands.

Nor could the oceanic Sea

breach the closed Aberta (Open) door.

At each departure,

you whispered your maternal wisdom,

as if in a chart of Life,

to bass and bream,

flamingos, herons or plovers.

The giant, alert sentry Rock,

would call them home, in the hour of return.

You witnessed my birth,

and later, gaining wings to fly afar

as a young bird, dizzy from its first migration,

I believed that the wind would always blow

from the same direction

and the low tide would never rise again.

And I thought of farewell.

Then, having glimpsed you over and over again

throughout my wanderings in the world,

I finally understood your wizened silence

and heard Gronho's shout

I look at you and I know I am back home!

Laetitia Smit (translation).

Autumn - by Tisha

Darkness falls, each evening..

Your image appears in my mind

in the dwindling light;
in delicious feelings of elation,
or in painful loneliness.

The sky painted in bright colours,
temporarily brightens my spirits,
but night falls without fail;
quiet, dark, sober,
covering my soul

with blankets of October.

The nights are longer,

the days shorter.

Trees are orange and gold,

preparing for the long, dark cold.

But I search your beloved image,

to fill my soul with joyous delight.

I imagine...

Your presence;

the aroma of your skin;

your voice in tender refrain;

your tender touch;

your sensual lips

in kisses divine,

like precious, mature wine.

Come to me , my love,

fulfill my deep desire,

embrace my soul

with the music of your being,

in perfect harmony.

Photo by Tisha

Olhos de âmbar - by Tisha

Os teus olhos de âmbar transparentes,
calmos como um rio de águas tranquilas.
Cor de mel e canela é a tua pele
veludo macio, delicioso ao paladar.
Aromas de jasmim e baunilha
é o teu cheiro, de bergamo e sândalo.
Os teus dentes, magnólias brancas,
formas brilhantes em marfim.
Licor da cereja pálida os teus lábios,
destilam desejo, promessas raras.
Formoso o teu corpo esculpido,
harmonia suave orquestrado.
Mas, ai... os teus lindos olhos,
os teus olhos de âmbar,
criadores de sonhos distantes.

XCVII - Sonetos de Amor - Pablo Neruda

É preciso voar neste tempo, para onde?

Sem asas, sem avião, voar sem dúvida:

já os passos passaram sem remédio,

não levantaram os pés do viajante.

É preciso voar a cada instante como

as águias, as moscas e os dias,

é preciso vencer os olhos de Saturno

e implantar ali novos sinos.

Já não bastam sapatos nem caminhos,

já não serve a terra aos errantes,

as raízes já atravessaram a noite,

e tu aparecerás em outra estrela

decididamente transitória,

em papoila convertida.

Photo by Tisha

In memory of Pablo Neruda, who was born on the 12th of July 1904, in the town of Parral, Chile. He was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature 1971.

African Thunderstorm - Perpetuum Jazzile

Toto's Africa magnificently sung by Perpetuum Jazzile October 2008 at Vokal Xtravaganzza