Barcelona II

Já de retorno com os olhos ainda iluminados das cores, da música, dos ruídos, dos cheiros e do silêncio que recolhi nas alturas de Monserrat nos picos junto aos restos da pequenina igreja de San Juan onde as pedras iluminavam as alturas e cercavam a infinita transcendência; ainda esse silêncio que anteontem encontrei no belo claustro de Pedralbes junto ao monte que está ali mesmo ao lado.

Tenho ainda tudo por organizar e a vida tem de seguir o seu curso natural por isso, ainda sem fotografias, poemas ou outras reflexões fica um poema que encontrei no magnífico Museu de Arte Contemporânea.



His brain convulsed
his mind split open.
Vertigo, hysteria, lurchings
and lauchings came over him,
he staggered and flapped desperately,
he was revolted by the thought of known places
and dreamed strange migrations
His fingers stiffened,
his feet scuffled and flurried,
his heart was startled,
his senses were mesmerized,
his sight was bent,
the weapobs fell from his hands
and he levitated in a frantic cumbersome motion,
like a bird of the air.

From "Sweeney Astray: A Version from the Irish" by Seamus Heaney