Don't go far off

Don't go far off, not even for a day, because --

because -- I don't know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
into me, choking my lost heart.

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;
may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.
Don't leave me for a second, my dearest,

because in that moment you'll have gone so far
I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?

Pablo Neruda

À procura do céu

Quando tinha quatro anos o meu gato morreu. Perguntei à minha mãe para onde é que ele tinha ido e ela disse:

—Para o céu.

Estávamos no quintal, por isso olhei para cima. O céu estava coberto de nuvens.

—É tão cinzento… achas que ele está feliz?

—Estão nuvens porque não querem que vejamos o que prepararam para o Fred. Aposto que se estivessemos para além das nuvens veríamos uma enorme festa. Nesta altura o Fred está a regalar-se com uma quantidade infinita de leite morno. Vais ver que amanhã já está sol outra vez.

—Então no céu vemos e temos aquilo que mais gostamos?

—Sim, querida. Tudo e sempre que queremos.

Passados alguns meses andei de avião pela primeira vez. Não me tinha esquecido daquilo que a minha mãe me tinha dito, então estava certa que quando passássemos para lá das nuvens eu ia ver castelos fantásticos, princesas, fadas e até dragões – estava super ansiosa, aliás, estaria aos pulos se a minha mãe não me tivesse apertado tanto o cinto.

Quando o tão esperado momento chegou, o brilho nos meus olhos extinguiu-se. Era uma terra vasta, branca e vazia. Nesse momento, começei a temer a morte.

Shiny Black Crow

Already in my seat on the plane, waiting for the crew to close the door, I glanced out the window. It was a lovely day, the sun high in the blue sky: the perfect weather for flying.

While I was dreamily looking out, a black crow popped in to my line of sight. This can’t be good, I thought, for, after all, everyone’s heard of the stories in which planes have crashed because birds were sucked into their propellers, ruining them. Not really the perfection I’d envisaged for my long-awaited trip home. I decided to keep my eyes on the bird, just in case.

It hopped about right next to the plane’s wing, sometimes on it. My heart was racing as I heard the captain announce that the door was now closed and advising the cabin crew to be seated for take-off. The crow was still there, mocking me, jumping around even as the propellers gained movement. I saw that shiny black crow look up to my window, and I looked it straight in the eye, attempting to warn it it was time to leave. Not taking much noticed of my unease, it hopped close to the propeller and picked up a cracker someone must have tossed out when boarding the plane, and just like that, flew away.

I watched this scene, incredulous, before starting to chuckle to myself. I couldn’t believe I’d made such a fuss when all the poor crow wanted was a measly cracker.

Porcelain smile

I’m wearing a porcelain mask. The porcelain face is smiling and the eyes are bright and wide. Yet the face underneath isn’t the same, even if no one knows.

I’ve tried to remove the mask, but it seems to be a part of me now. People expect that daunting smile and, no matter how hard I try, if I ever say I’m not feeling well they don’t believe me, all they see is that fake smile on my face.

Attachment Theory

There was once a man who always sat down without putting his heels on the ground. He would walk on the balls of his feet, as if he were trying to levitate, removing his feet from the ground completely.

I saw him almost every day, walking around town, except it was more like dancing than walking so light was his footfall. We spoke once. I asked him why it was that he never put his heels on the ground and he answered simply:

‘I don’t? I guess a part of me thinks I don’t belong on Earth’ and, chuckling, he pranced off.

Some weeks later I ran into him again and noticed there was something different about him, but couldn’t quite place my finger on it. Then I glanced down at his feet and was awestruck – his feet weren’t touching the pavement at all. He was no longer walking around town, but floating. I didn’t know what to make of it. At that precise moment he came up to me and said:

‘Hi there! Don’t you feel like today’s going to be a good, no, wait, a great day? I sure do. I woke up feeling in harmony with the world, without a worry on my mind. I felt that if I jumped out of my window I wouldn’t even fall, but fly.’

‘I can see that’ I answered, smiling, and walked off, happy with myself as I saw I had made his lips droop and the balls of his feet lower again. He called to me, but I just carried on walking.