Into The Wild -part 2

Societies may be classified in western, eastern, northern and southern ones. Right? Maybe not. Societies may be classified in rich and poor ones. Right? Maybe not. Societies may be classified in white, yellow, black and brown. Right? Maybe not. Societies may be classified as capitalist, candidate to capitalist or non-capitalist? Right? Maybe not…

Right after a short visit of Angela Merkel to Portugal, Portuguese population is very disappointed because that very same visit was so that much fast that there was no time for those idiotic popular manifestations of certain sectors of that very same population still thinking that Germans should be kind of European Red Cross instead of what they really are: Germans! European societies may be classified in pro-Germans and against-Germans. Right? Right.

The reasons for this economical disaster in Europe, the European Union, are very well known. Are they? In Portugal, solution for increasing poverty seems to be emigration. Right, emigration. Anything new? Nope! History repeats itself. Déjà vu! In capitalist societies people want more than they need and they get more than what they can pay. If they can’t proceed that way they just go away, to other places where they can. In Portugal, emigration is the way.

Greece, Ireland, Portugal, Spain, your thoughts begin to bleed. Who’s next?

In English

It’s a mystery to me
We have a greed with which we have agreed
And you think you have to want more than you need
Until you have it all, you won’t be free

Society, you’re a crazy breed
I hope you’re not lonely without me

When you want more than you have, you think you need
And when you think more than you want,
your thoughts begin to bleed
I think I need to find a bigger place
Cause when you have more than you think,
you need more space

Society, you’re a crazy breed
I hope you’re not lonely without me
Society, crazy indeed
Hope you’re not lonely without me

There’s those thinking more or less, less is more
But if less is more, how you keepin score?
Means for every point you make your level drops
Kinda like you’re startin’ from the top
And you can’t do that

Society, you’re a crazy breed
I hope you’re not lonely without me
Society, crazy indeed
I hope you’re not lonely without me
Society, have mercy on me
I hope you’re not angry if I disagree
Society, you’re crazy indeed
I hope you’re not lonely without me

Em Português

Para mim é um mistério
Nós termos uma ganância com a qual concordámos
Achas que precisas de querer mais do que o que precisas
Até que tenhas tudo, nunca serás livre

Sociedade, és uma raça louca
Espero que não te sintas solitária sem mim

Quando queres mais do que o que tens, pensas que precisas
E quando pensas mais do que o que queres,
os teus pensamentos começam a sangrar
Eu acho que preciso de encontrar um lugar maior
Porque quando tens mais do que o que pensas,
precisas de mais espaço

Sociedade, és uma raça louca
Espero que não te sintas solitária sem mim
Sociedade, realmente louca
Espero que não te sintas solitária sem mim

Há os que pensam mais ou menos, que menos é mais
Mas se menos é mais, como consegues manter a contagem?
Significa que para cada ponto que marcas o teu nível desce
Assim uma coisa tipo começar por cima
Mas não dá para fazer isso

Sociedade, és uma raça louca
Espero que não te sintas solitária sem mim
Sociedade, realmente louca
Espero que não te sintas solitária sem mim
Sociedade, tem piedade de mim
Eu espero que não te zangues se eu discordar
Sociedade, és realmente louca
Espero que não te sintas solitária sem mim

by Eddie Vedder
Society, in Into the Wild (film), © 2007
Free translation to Portuguese by Zé Barbosa.
Video clip edited by Zé Barbosa[1].
  1. Original photo from our gallery showing a huge net in Matosinhos, Portugal.

The Lady Of Shalott

“The Lady Of Shalott”[1] is a poem[2] written by Alfred Tennyson used as base for the song with the same name, adapted by Loreena McKennitt. This is a very melodic song to what both Loreena’s voice and the fantasy associated to lovely Camelot’s stories print a very heavenly mood. Who, in early times of life, never saw movies about King Arthur, Round Table Knights, Sir Lancelot and so on?

Loreena McKennitt, (born February 17, 1957) Canadian singer, composer, harpist, accordionist and pianist, owns a delightful voice which already made me fly around so many times. Moving herself in the area of World music (including Celtic music), Loreena can be better known in her website, which you can visit clicking here. Well, this time I challenged myself to translate from English to Portuguese a poem written in English with old time’s contours. Not easy! First, the original song lasts about twelve minutes, Loreena spends almost that time singing and the poem is long. Second, nobody will be surprised if I say I first made the translation using Google translator, then I made my own arrangements and finally I had to run an appropriated research to get into the spirit of a lady closed in a medieval castle. All this while listening tons of times the music and reading the lyrics in order to be sure I understood all the second, third and absent meanings. Quite interesting! It was kind of a recreational way of keeping my English sucking…

There are many ladies of Shalott in the world. Women have a quite incomprehensible way of bearing themselves to love stories with unhappy ends. Stories that when not tragic at least they are dramatic. One day I said to a girl over thirty that I had given up on understanding women. She said, with a nice smile and for my relative surprise, “don’t worry, we are not able to understand ourselves as well”. So true! As a matter of fact I don’t recall to have met any woman making any slight effort to understand herself. I guess women don’t waste much time with self inner incursions more than the time they need to retouch their make-up. This doesn’t mean, at all, that they are not intelligent beings but they instead drive their brain’s sharpness (when it exists) to other prioritized issues. And here is the knot: female priorities are as confused as their purses!

Women do love laughing and they do it quite a lot. Making a woman laughing is half way to grab her special attention. It sounds quite stupid when they say “I prefer men who make me laugh” but that’s the truth, pretty nude and pretty raw. So, men always try to make women around them laughing, even if for that they turn to be very silly or ridiculous. Funny thing! We, men, are loved (or just liked) when we are ridiculous! We also are preferred if we talk nice and sweet, even if not truly. We increase our quotation in women’s stock market if we treat them Sir Lancelot like. The wondering part is, how come a being who is able to laugh that much and is much delighted by nice bold knights tales is also easily driven to knotty situations like the ones we know women are living in? Laugh and drama. Fantasy and tragedy. Love and hate. What a combination…

Ladies living under the protection of towered Camelots are more than many. Women very often trade freedom for security. Yes, it happens quite a lot. Even in far gone civilized countries where women are self-proclaimed strong and determined, like Germany or USA, many are the cases of women trapped in the same castle they took as their shield. Women very often are unable to get rid of the walls they take as their protection when they finally find they’re living in the wrong castle. And I am not talking only about “castles” referring to men… If on one hand unhappiness may happen because those women may have finally realized that their Sir Lancelot is no longer a loyal and reliable knight, on the other, it may also happen because they were not able to keep their Sir Lancelot delighted with his Lady Of Shalott.

After this lecture about woman’s psychology, topic about what I know very little but love to talk a lot, let me invite you now to listen to the song itself and let you freely go into the land of kings, knights and ladies, while appreciating both Loreena’s sweet voice and the performance of the good music players performing with her.

May the gods be with the ladies weaving their complex webs behind their castle walls…

In English

On either side of the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And thro’ the field the road run by
To many-towered Camelot;
And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies flow
Round an island there below,
The island of Shalott.

Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Thro’ the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river
Flowing down to Camelot.
Four grey walls, and four grey towers,
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle embowers
The Lady of Shalott.

Only reapers, reaping early,
In among the bearded barley
Hear a song that echoes cheerly
From the river winding clearly
Down to tower’d Camelot;
And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers “’tis the fairy
The Lady of Shalott.”

There she weaves by night and day
A magic web with colours gay,
She has heard a whisper say,
A curse is on her if she stay
To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
The Lady of Shalott.

And moving through a mirror clear
That hangs before her all the year,
Shadows of the world appear.
There she sees the highway near
Winding down to Camelot;
And sometimes thro’ the mirror blue
The knights come riding two and two.
She hath no loyal knight and true,
The Lady Of Shalott.

But in her web she still delights
To weave the mirror’s magic sights,
For often thro’ the silent nights
A funeral, with plumes and lights
And music, went to Camelot;
Or when the moon was overhead,
Came two young lovers lately wed.
“I am half sick of shadows,” said
The Lady Of Shalott.

A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley sheaves,
The sun came dazzling thro’ the leaves,
And flamed upon the brazen greaves
Of bold Sir Lancelot.
A red-cross knight for ever kneel’d
To a lady in his shield,
That sparkled on the yellow field,
Beside remote Shalott.

His broad clear brow in sunlight glow’d;
On burnish’d hooves his war-horse trode;
From underneath his helmet flow’d
His coal-black curls as on he rode,
As he rode down to Camelot.
From the bank and from the river
he flashed into the crystal mirror,
“Tirra Lirra,” by the river
Sang Sir Lancelot.

She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces thro’ the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She looked down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror cracked from side to side;
“The curse is come upon me,” cried
The Lady of Shalott.

In the stormy east-wind straining,
The pale yellow woods were waning,
The broad stream in his banks complaining.
Heavily the low sky raining
Over towered Camelot;
Down she came and found a boat
Beneath a willow left afloat,
And round about the prow she wrote
The Lady of Shalott

And down the river’s dim expanse
Like some bold seer in a trance,
Seeing all his own mischance –
With a glassy countenance
Did she look to Camelot.
And at the closing of the day
She loosed the chain and down she lay;
The broad stream bore her far away,
The Lady of Shalott.

Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes were darkened wholly,
Turn’d to towered Camelot.
For ere she reach’d upon the tide
The first house by the water-side,
Singing in her song she died,
The Lady of Shalott.

Under tower and balcony,
By garden-wall and gallery,
A gleaming shape she floated by,
Dead-pale between the houses high,
Silent into Camelot.
Out upon the wharfs they came,
Knight and burgher, lord and dame,
And round the prow they read her name,
The Lady of Shalott.

Who is this? And what is here?
And in the lighted palace near
Died the sound of royal cheer;
And they crossed themselves for fear,
All the knights at Camelot;
But Lancelot mused a little space
He said, “She has a lovely face;
God in his mercy lend her grace,
The Lady of Shalott.”

Em Português

Em cada margem do rio se encontram
Longos campos de cevada e de centeio,
Que cobrem a planície e encontram o céu;
E pelo campo a estrada corre
Até à Camelot de muitas torres;
E para cima e para baixo as pessoas vão,
Contemplando onde os lírios ondulam
Ao redor de uma ilha lá embaixo,
A Ilha de Shalott.

Salgueiros embranquecem, álamos tremem,
Leves brisas e calafrios ao anoitecer
Sobre a onda que desliza eternamente
Pela ilha do rio
Navegando até Camelot.
Quatro paredes cinzentas e quatro torres cinzentas,
Com vista para um espaço de flores,
E a silenciosa ilha cobre de folhagem
A Dama de Shalott.

Somente ceifeiros, ceifando cedo,
Por entre a cevada por desfolhar
Ouve uma cantiga que ecoa alegremente
Vindo do sinuoso rio claramente
Em direcção à Camelot das torres;
E ao luar o ceifeiro cansado,
Formando molhos e empilhando-os,
Ouvindo, sussurra “esta é a fada,
A Dama de Shalott.”

Lá está ela tecendo noite e dia
Uma teia mágica com cores alegres,
Ela ouviu um sussurro dizendo,
Uma maldição cairá sobre ela se continuar
A olhar para Camelot.
Ela não sabe o que maldição possa ser,
E assim ela tece continuamente,
E sem outros cuidados tendo ela,
A Dama de Shalott.

E movendo-se através de um espelho claro
Que pende diante dela todo o ano,
Sombras do mundo aparecem.
Lá ela vê a estrada se aproximar
Sinuosamente até Camelot;
E às vezes através do espelho azul
Os cavaleiros vêm cavalgando dois a dois.
Ela não tem nenhum cavaleiro leal e verdadeiro,
A Dama de Shalott.

Mas com seu bordado ela ainda se deleita
Para tecer as visões do espelho mágico,
Frequentemente pelas noites silenciosas
Um funeral, com plumas, luzes
E música, foi até Camelot;
Ou quando a lua pairava sobre si,
Dois jovens amantes acabavam de chegar para casar.
“Estou um pouco farta das sombras”, disse
A Dama de Shalott.

À distância de um tiro de seta do seu beiral ,
Ele andava entre os molhos de cevada,
O sol veio deslumbrante através das folhas,
E se reflectiu nas caneleiras de bronze
Do destemido Sir Lancelot.
Um cavaleiro de cruz-vermelha eternamente ajoelhado
Perante uma dama, com seu escudo,
Que brilhava no campo amarelado,
Ao lado da remota Shalott.

Sua testa clara ao sol brilhava;
Em cascos polidos, seu cavalo de guerra troteava;
Sob o seu capacete ondulavam
Seus caracóis em cachos negros à medida que se movia,
Enquanto cavalgava até Camelot.
Da margem e do rio
ele brilhava no espelho de cristal,
“Tirra Lirra”, pelo rio abaixo
Cantava Sir Lancelot.

Ela largou o bordado, ela largou o tear,
Ela deu três passos pelo quarto,
Ela viu o lírio aquático florescer,
Ela viu o elmo e a pluma,
Ela olhou para Camelot.
Lançou o bordado que voou longe;
O espelho quebrou-se de lado a lado;
“A maldição caiu sobre mim”, gritou
A Dama de Shalott.

Na tempestuosa força do vento de leste,
Os pálidos bosques amarelados estavam minguando,
O amplo riacho em suas margens reclamando.
O baixo céu chovendo fortemente
Sobre a Camelot das torres;
Ela desceu e encontrou um barco
Sob um salgueiro partido que flutuava,
E em volta da proa, ela escreveu
A Dama de Shalott

E descendo o extenso e turvo rio
Como algum ousado vidente em transe,
Vendo toda sua própria miséria –
Com um semblante paralizado
Ela olhou para Camelot.
E ao fim do dia
Ela soltou as correntes e se deitou;
O amplo riacho levou-a para longe,
A Dama de Shalott.

Ouvido um hino, pesaroso, sagrado,
Cantado ruidosamente, cantado humildemente,
Até que seu sangue lentamente congelava,
E seus olhos completamente escureciam,
Voltada para a Camelot das torres.
Antes que com a maré ela alcançasse
A primeira casa na margem,
Cantando a sua canção ela morreu,
A Dama de Shalott.

Sob a torre e a varanda,
Do muro do jardim e da galeria,
De forma cintilante ela flutuou,
Uma fúnebre palidez por entre as casas altas,
Um silêncio sobre Camelot.
Do distante cais, eles vieram,
Cavaleiro e burguês, nobre e dama,
E em volta da proa, eles leram o nome dela,
A Dama de Shalott.

Quem é esta? E o que faz aqui?
E com o iluminado palácio nas proximidades
Morria o som da real celebração;
E eles se cruzaram por medo,
Todos os cavaleiros de Camelot;
Mas Lancelot refletiu por um pouco
Ele disse: “Ela tem um rosto lindo;
Deus, em sua misericórdia concedeu-lhe graciosidade,
À Dama de Shalott. ”

by Loreena McKennit
The Lady of Shalott, in The Visit (Loreena McKennitt album), © 1991
Free translation to Portuguese by Zé Barbosa.
Video clip edited by Zé Barbosa[3].
  1. A Dama de Shalott.
  2. Have access to the whole poem using this link
  3. Original photo from our gallery showing the castle in Vila Nova da Feira, Portugal.

No Expectations

I’ve realized, long ago, that Rolling Stones, a British rock band, never made part of my CD collection just because I don’t like them. Astonishing? Not really! There were many other bands in my youth I was not fond of. I don’t see why should I like them just because they were one of the most popular bands in the world. Let’s say that I am not that much supple, generally speaking. Let’s say that not liking Rolling Stones it’s at the same philosophical level of being Portuguese and not liking fado, the Portuguese national song.

Nevertheless, I confess that the video I have placed here below, for your pleasure, pleased me very much. It’s amazing: a simple fado singer, Ana Moura, was invited by Rolling Stones in 2007 to sing with them one of their themes, “No Expectations”. Who would say this would ever happen? But it happened! Easy to see, in this video, how happy and honored she, Ana Moura, was. But it’s easy to see also how attracted the Rolling Stones were for this exotic song called fado, which was classified by one of them as Portuguese blues, and for the fado singer herself. A must to watch video.

Enjoy it…

Rolling Stones featuring Ana Moura.
Video-clip[1] edited by Zé Barbosa (subtitles in Portuguese).
  1. Original photo from our gallery showing a landscape from V N da Cerveira, Portugal.

Lusitana Beauty

Like in any other country, Portugal owns as well a lot of beautiful things which Portuguese are proud of showing to visitors from other countries. That is partly the purpose of this post. “Lusitana Beauty”[1] owes its name to the fact of Portugal was located in lands formerly called Lusitania, much before Portugal was born. Interesting is the fact of, although part of the territory currently known as Spain was also part of same lands, Spanyards don’t call themselves “Lusitanos”[2] like Portuguese do…

Like in any other country, there are women in Portugal. Amazing, isn’t it? Like many other men, I feel naturally attracted to women and, of course, to the Portuguese ones too. This might be seen as an expression of chauvinism[3] but for one or another reason, explicable or not, justifiable or not, reasonable or not, acceptable or not, politically correct or not and appreciated or not, there is in this blog a small place for showing what, concerning beautiful females, Portugal has got. Yes, several Portuguese women are really something! Some are beautiful, other are at least owners of an attractive charming. Some are public figures, other not that much. Some are famous for their brain and body, other for their body only[4]. And you know what? Women are the opposite gender of male gender. Opposite! Have you noticed that?

For some people it might be an undeniable truth the fact that a guy placing photos of women in a public place, showing them like they were cattle in a regional fair, deserves no consideration at all. In that case, I kindly ask you to stop reading this post at once. For me, placing these photos here, considering that I am convinced that what it is beautiful in Lusitânia must be shown, it’s a natural action. Should women shown here be that much undressed like some of them are? Why not if those, the almost naked, are the ones using their body to be famous? Is it wrong to use the body to become famous? Nope. At all! For me, every one of us, human beings, should have enough freedom for using respective body the way it likes most, as long we do not disturb other’s lives. You know, on the basis of that famous quote “my freedom ends where your freedom begins[5]” …

There are beautiful women in Portugal. Can you imagine? Some of them are shown here, in the “Lusitana Beauty” link. Below every photo, respective name. Simple! Basic! Linear! I see no reason for philosophy here. I am not responsible for creating a world of perfection nor creating the imperfections of the world. But I am responsible for what I do. I do have my own way of looking at and relating to women and I don’t consider it more or less good than other. It’s just my way. There are beautiful women in the world, I never saw a beautiful man. Points of view…

May the gods be with the «lusitana» beauty in such a way it keeps delighting our eyes and feeding our desires…

  1. The word “Lusitana” it is in its Portuguese form, it is an adjective for feminine things or people and is said in English “Lusitanian”.
  2. Lusitanians.
  3. Referring to sexism.
  4. Our photo database of Portuguese women include theater and cinema actresses, top models, radio and TV professionals, musicians, etc. It includes also unknown women (non-public figures).
  5. Principle making part of “Law of equal liberty”, a doctrine first named by Herbert Spencer.

Happy birthday, my beloved friend…

No comments…

by Natalie Merchant
‘Beloved Wife’, in Tigerlily, © 1995
Video created/edited by unknown.

Into The Wild

Totally fed up of life? There are the ones going into the wild. There are the other standing up, down sometimes, in this civilized game of world’s owners called capitalism. One’s life can go from total happiness to total desperation. Reaching a reasonable balance it’s a hell of a job…

What to do if you one day, while you’re waking up in the morning, you realize you do hate your hob? You better not. Avoid it. Mainly if it’s the nth time it is happening. Just avoid it. Just work yourself out to think different things when you’re waking up. Convince yourself you don’t have to love your job. You don’t have to love your boss. You don’t have to love your co-workers. Get rid of them just not thinking too much about them. That’s the best way. Mainly during this stupid recession we, in Portugal, are going through.

Most people in this civilized world are the typical ‘9 to 5’ style. Most people in this world are totally smashed by routine. By boredom. By tedium. By anesthesia. Crushed but happy. Similar to the way many south-american people think: poor but happy. And the crucial question it’s precisely there: should we change something in our life if we feel happy? No way…

Should we change something in our life if we feel unhappy? Hell of a question! Not necessarily. We should if we would be very much sure about the fact of changing to a new life would bring us happiness. But who can be sure of success before success happens? Nobody. But you can try. If you feel strong enough to face uncertainty, incertitude, doubt, dubiety, haziness, suspense. And even so keep sleeping tight at night, waking up every morning as happy as you turned in the night before. Or else using your night sleep to wake up happy after you turned in unhappy the night before.

Turning into the wild may be a solution for some. Very few. ‘Go wild’ is not a behavior I recommend. But I do recommend this beautiful song having “Guaranteed” as its name. Part of a film soundtrack which I never watched, Into The Wild, this song is performed by the Pearl Jam’s lead singer, Eddie Vedder. I would extract two beautiful thoughts from its lyrics: “On bended knee is no way to be free” and “Wind in my hair, I feel part of everywhere”. Despite this, I wouldn’t ever go wild or into the wild. Just another beautiful song. Just a couple of wandering thoughts after a recent conversation with a lady friend during what these issues were the core of her worries.

May the gods be with the incarcerated minds of this world…

In English

On bended knee is no way to be free
Lifting up an empty cup
I ask silently
All my destinations will accept the one that’s me
So I can breathe…

Circles they grow and
they swallow people whole
Half their lives they say goodnight
to wives they’ll never know
A mind full of questions
and a teacher in my soul
And so it goes…

Don’t come closer or I’ll have to go
Holding me like gravity
are places that pull
If ever there was
someone to keep me at home
It would be you…

Everyone I come across
in cages they bought
They think of me and my wandering
but I’m never what they thought
I’ve got my indignation
but I’m pure in all my thoughts
I’m alive…

Wind in my hair, I feel part of everywhere
Underneath my being is a road that disappeared
Late at night I hear the trees
they’re singing with the dead

Leave it to me as I find a way to be
Consider me a satellite, forever orbiting
I knew all the rules
but the rules did not know me

Em Português

Ajoelhados não é a forma de sermos livres
Levantando uma taça vazia
pergunto silenciosamente
Todos meus destinos aceitarão aquele que eu sou
Para que eu possa respirar…

Círculos que crescem e
engolem pessoas por completo
Metade de suas vidas eles dizem boa-noite
a esposas que nunca irão conhecer
Uma mente cheia de perguntas
e um professor em minha alma
E assim vai indo…

Não te aproximes ou vou ter que sair
Segurando-me como a gravidade
estão lugares que puxam
Se alguma vez houvera
alguém para me manter em casa
Serias tu…

Todos aqueles que encontro
em gaiolas que compraram
Pensam em mim e nas minhas deambulações
mas eu nunca sou o que eles pensaram
Eu tenho a minha indignação
mas sou puro em todos os meus pensamentos
Eu estou vivo…

O vento em meus cabelos, sinto-me parte de todos os lugares
Sob o meu ser está uma estrada que desapareceu
Tarde da noite eu ouço as árvores
elas estão cantando com os mortos
Sobre a minha cabeça…

Deixa-me comigo mesmo enquanto encontro uma forma de ser
Considera-me um satélite, orbitando para sempre
Eu conhecia todas as regras
mas as regras não me conheciam a mim

by Eddie Vedder
Guarnateed, in Into the Wild (film), © 2007
Free translation to Portuguese by Zé Barbosa.
Video clip edited by Zé Barbosa[1].
  1. Original photo from our gallery showing a huge net in Matosinhos, Portugal.

Moody Spirits

Each of us is a combination of body and spirit. Or is it body and soul? Or is it body, spirit and soul? Or just body but life without an immaterial component of us, where we can file those little things we have decided they’re much beyond the body, makes no sense to us?

Does our spiritual existence really exist? What about the famous soul, associated to a distress signal very much internationalized known as SOS[1]? Both spirit and soul are very much connected to one’s religiosity. Soul is more used for feelings and emotions, spirit can sometimes be confused with ghost. Soul can feel pain. Spirit not. Soul is very often used in catholic environments. So does spirit.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Though many traditions vary, this prayer is usually recited with the Sign of the Cross gesture, which is typically done by bringing the thumb, index and middle finger together (representing the trinity) and touching the forehead while saying, “In the name of the Father,” then touching the lower chest while saying, “and of the Son,” then touching the shoulder (left first in western traditions, right first in eastern traditions) while saying, “and of the Holy” then crossing to the other shoulder saying, “Spirit.” And finally touching the lips with a kiss, before saying, “Amen.”

— Extracted from World

Thom Yorke, leader of Radiohead, a British band from Abingdon, Oxfordshire (UK), in charge of band’s vocals, guitar and piano, is one of those beings about what I use to say to be owners of “a certain singularity”. His music is quite attractive and his songs’ lyrics very clear as mud, sometimes. His singularity can be immediately detected in the video-clip here below, right at the beginning of his performance, just before he starts singing. But it’s confirmed by every facial expression, every vocal sound and every phrase of the lyrics he is singing in this very beautiful song. Street Spirit (Fade Out) is about mind hallucinations[2]. Life is kind an one way street. You start walking it down by birth, you stop walking it when you pass away. During your trip, you will go through different situations and your perceptions of it depend very much on your spirit’s (or soul’s) firmware[3]. But they also depend, for example, on the shops, the service departments, the traffic, the washing waters and trash buckets, the interceptions and respective traffic-lights, the buildings and, of course, the passers-by and the bystanders. No idea about what street Thom Yorke has been gone through but it seems to be quite a turbulent one.

Interesting is the fact of many human beings, music lovers, rather seek moody musical themes as a soundtrack for his moody moments in life. Some people can’t understand this. In fact, at a first analysis, if you feel sad you should choose those songs which would destroy that negative mood. Meaning, joyful songs for moody moments. However, it simply doesn’t work according to what seems to be logic. I, for instance, always have chosen depressive music for depressive moments. Nevertheless, I own one of the best sense of humors on earth and I am not a very much seriousness oriented man. But I feel good cementing my depressive moments with even more depressive music. It works fine. It’s a kind of “let’s go pretty much down until we reach a point when the only way to keep going is up”. Nonsense? Yep, I think so but it’s the way my mind works. And my spirit it’s pretty much well trained for that. My spirit, not my soul because I don’t own one.

So what is the difference between the soul and the spirit?

We are a spirit being, we live in a body and we possess a soul. The real person inside of us is our spirit. Our soul consists of our mind, will and emotions. Our bodies are obviously what we live in while we are here on earth. How did demonic spirits vex and possess (control) people in the Bible? It was through their souls (minds, as in mental illness and insanity), and their bodies (as in the woman who had the spirit of infirmity).

— Extracted from Great Bible

May the gods be with the wandering spirits of life and the lost souls…

In English

Rows of houses, all bearing down on me.
I can feel their blue hands touching me.
All these things into position,
All these things we’ll one day swallow whole
And fade out again and fade out.

This machine will, will not communicate
These thoughts and the strain I am under.
Be a world child, form a circle
Before we all go under
And fade out again and fade out again.

Cracked eggs, dead birds
Scream as they fight for life.
I can feel death, can see its beady eyes.
All these things into position,
All these things we’ll one day swallow whole
And fade out again and fade out again.

Immerse your soul in love.
Immerse your soul in love.

Em Português

Filas de casas, todas caindo sobre mim
Posso sentir suas mãos azuis me tocando
Todas essas coisas posicionando-se
Todas essas coisas um dia vamos engolir completamente
E de novo se desvanecerem, e se desvanecerem

Esta máquina não vai, não vai comunicar
Estes pensamentos e a tensão que me esmagam
Sê uma criança do mundo, forma um círculo
Antes de todos irmos abaixo
E de novo nos desvanecermos, e de novo nos desvanecermos

Ovos partidos, pássaros mortos
Gritam como se lutassem pela vida
Posso sentir a morte, posso ver o seu olhar radiante
Todas essas coisas posicionando-se
Todas essas coisas um dia vamos engolir
E de novo se desvanecerem, e se desvanecerem

Submerge a tua alma em amor
Submerge a tua alma em amor

by Radiohead
Street Spirit (Fade Out), in The Bends, © 1995
Free translation to Portuguese by Zé Barbosa.
Video clip edited by Zé Barbosa[4].
  1. Save Our Souls.
  2. Yeah, if we are talking about hallucination it can only be mind’s.
  3. In electronic systems and computing, firmware is the combination of persistent memory and program code and data stored in it. I frequently use this technical word to refer to innate data in human beings. Firmware is already there when you buy some electronic devices or, else, any computer. You may change it later on. I wonder how good would be for us to do the same with human beings…
  4. Original photo from our gallery showing a landscape in Vila Nova da Cerveira, Portugal.

I Am -part 2

Now the part concerning my hometown. End of a normal day. I drove down to the city’s riverside[1] with the decision of taking images from my hometown at dusk. It could be at dawn but that would imply to wake up very early in the morning and grab that phase of the early day when light captivates image hunters. No, not in the mood for that. Let’s keep it easy. Dusks are very pretty too…

Massarelos (Portuguese pronunciation: mɐsɐˈɾɛluʃ) is a Portuguese parish, located in the municipality of Porto. It has a population of 7,756 inhabitants and a total area of 1.94 km².

The municipality includes parts of the city’s old downtown, classified by UNESCO as a World Heritage Site. Other landmarks include Porto’s main Custom House, Rosa Mota sports hall, Porto’s major fish market and the Campo Alegre neighborhood, where a theatre and several buildings of the University of Porto are located.

Instead of writing here a long story, which I would not be able to write because my birth was a very common one, I rather decided to pick the images I got with my Sony AVCHD handycam[2] and make a very short video-clip showing my beautiful “birth corner”. I did it in a very much Portuguese way. I combined some ingredients who turned me to be very much close to fado and its gray, sad and miserable components. No wonder, Porto it’s a gray town. As much gray as Portuguese are, the gods know why and what for. But I am Portuguese and I never deny my roots. Being so, I mixed nice urban dusk coloring with moody, yet fabulous, musical themes from two of my (actual) favorite bands: “Exogenesis (Overture)” from Muse and “Sentient” from Anathema. Amazing! Two rock bands providing a moody movie soundtrack. That’s my clue: I will never be a famous movie director.

I must confess I create these clips thinking much more about the music than about the image. I know very little about image processing[3]. Even so, there it is. A real happy moment converted, through a single video-clip, to a moment possibly seen as a dramatic one. Yes, that day when I went downtown to gather a urban landscape and a human life? Was a great day. Today, while creating the movie? Comme ci, comme ça…

This is the way I am and I feel good…

See text above for music authors.
Video clip created by Zé Barbosa[4].
  1. This is the oldest part of Porto and for that reason the most visited by tourists.
  2. For those wanting to know details, my video-camera it’s the model HDR-CX560VE. It’s really high definition. However, to show the movie here, in a FLV player, the original file has to be converted first to WMV format, after edition, and finally to FLV. Result: big quality losses.
  3. Considering the image itself, there is no processing at all made over the original images. This Sony’s video-camera has a tremendous capacity for adapting itself to tough light variations.
  4. Original photo from our gallery showing Porto’s riverside, Portugal.