Tuesday, November 23, 2010

(sur)real freedom ...

"the idea that freedom, acquired here on earth at the price of a thousandand the most difficult renunciations, must be enjoyed as unrestrictedly as it is granted, without pragmatic considerations of any sort, and this because human emancipation conceived finally in its simplest revolutionary form, which is no less than human emancipation in every respect, by which I mean according to the means at every man's disposalremains the only cause worth serving. Nadja was born to serve it, if only by demonstrating that around himself each individual must foment a private conspiracy, which exists not only in his imagination of which, it would be best, from the standpoint of knowledge alone, to take account but also and much more dangerously--by thrusting one's head, then an arm, out of the jailthus shattered of logic, that is, out of the most hateful of prisons."

(André Breton, Nadja. Transl. Richard Howard)

Sunday, November 21, 2010


Copyright © 2010 Marco Alexandre de Oliveira

Saturday, November 20, 2010


e agora,

como é que pode?

você me fode,

e vai embora ...

a minha revolta,

é ato de desespero!

de fato eu espero

a sua volta ...

Copyright © 2010 Marco Alexandre de Oliveira

Friday, November 19, 2010

A Red, Red Rose

(For my love …)

O my Luve 's like a red, red rose

That 's newly sprung in June:

O my Luve 's like the melodie

That's sweetly play'd in tune!

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, 5

So deep in luve am I:

And I will luve thee still, my dear,

Till a' the seas gang dry:

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,

And the rocks melt wi' the sun; 10

I will luve thee still, my dear,

While the sands o' life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only Luve,

And fare thee weel a while!

And I will come again, my Luve, 15

Tho' it were ten thousand mile.

– Robert Burns

a sharp, sharp thorn

my love's like a red, red rose
your love's like a sharp, sharp thorn

Copyright © 2010 Marco Alexandre de Oliveira

Friday, November 05, 2010

dream within a dream ...

"Ese múltiple dios le reveló que su nombre terrenal era Fuego, que en ese templo circular (y en otros iguales) le habían rendido sacrificios y culto y que mágicamente animaría al fantasma soñado, de suerte que todas las criaturas, excepto el Fuego mismo y el soñador, lo pensaran un hombre de carne y hueso. Le ordenó que una vez instruido en los ritos, lo enviaría al otro templo despedazado cuyas pirámides persisten aguas abajo, para que alguna voz lo glorificara en aquel edificio desierto. En el sueño del hombre que soñaba, el soñado se despertó."

(Jorge Luis Borges, "Las ruínas circulares." Ficciones.)

"The manifold god revealed to the man that its earthly name was Fire, and that in that circular temple (and others like it) men had made sacrifices and worshipped it, and that it would magically bring to life the phantasm the man had dreamed – so fully bring him to life that every creature, save Fire itself and the man who dreamed him, would take him for a man of flesh and blood. Fire ordered the dreamer to send the youth, once instructed in the rites, to that other ruined temple whose pyramids still stood downriver, so that a voice might glorify the god in that deserted place. In the dreaming man's dream, the dreamed man awoke."

(Jorge Luis Borges, "The Circular Ruins." Fictions. Trans. Andrew Hurley)