Que frescor tem sido a leitura do recém-criado blog do Saramago! Eu já gostava de seus livros e ele virou ídolo quando tornou-se o único escritor de porte a exigir das editoras que seus livros fossem publicados em papel reciclado.
Quando a gente está na net e quer ler algo legal, fica procurando e não acha, vale a pena passar por lá: http://caderno.josesaramago.org/ - tem sempre algo interessante sendo dito de maneira singela e poderosa.
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As flores as mais maravilhosas florescem sempre tarde no ano. Os talentos os mais maravilhosos florescem tarde na vida. Estas palavras de Beckett…
… until that memorable night in March at the end of the jetty, in the howling wind, never to be forgotten, when suddenly I saw the whole thing. The vision, at last. This fancy is what I have chiefly to record this evening, against the day when my work will be done and perhaps no place left in my memory, warm or cold, for the miracle that . . . for the fire that set it alight. What I suddenly saw then was this, that the belief I had been going on all my life, namely…great granite rocks the foam flying up in the light of the lighthouse and the wind-gauge spinning like a propeller, clear to me at last that the dark I have always struggled to keep under is in reality… unshatterable association until my dissolution of storm and night with the light of the understanding and the fire … my face in her breasts and my hand on her. We lay there without moving. But under us all moved, and moved us, gently, up and down, and from side to side.
Past midnight. Never knew such silence. The earth might be uninhabited.
Perhaps my best years are gone. When there was a chance of happiness. But I wouldn't want them back. Not with the fire in me now. No, I wouldn't want them back.
Uno de los momentos más hermosos de la primera serie de “Los Sopranos” es cuando la voz de su ser más joven acompaña a Silvio (Steven Van Zandt el actor era el guistarist de Bruce Springsteen y todo el mundo recordará su canción “Sin City” del concierto 1987 para liberar a Nelson Mandela). Él es más viejo ahora, pero la canción tiene un mensaje claro de cómo el fuego de su espiritú continúa quemando...
Even if it is all over, don't ever say it was in vain,
Don't tell me everything we believe in has been washed away,
Because something still remains.
I known it still remains, because I'm still the same
And nothing will change my mind
Because I've spent my whole life trying to find
Something I know I need but can't define.
Everything I ever want is here.
Everybody tells me: ‘open up your eyes, it can never be like it used to be’.
I say to them: ‘open up your heart, you see just what you want to see’.
Is it too much for you to see the truth, every time you look in my face.
It’s a little late in the game to throw your hand in:
It’s a little late in the game to forget everything we've been:
Trapped by the locked doors, you never could get in.
There was a moment in time, we could almost taste the adventure every day.
I know that we are older now, it doesn't mean there's nothing new to say.
We spend the days walking away, instead of trying to do something about it.
You ought to be by my side, instead of trying to find a place to hide,
fighting to keep everything that we had.
It is still alive inside of me: it never died inside of me
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