#RECOUNTER IN PORTO DAS QUIMERAS # GRAÇA FONTIS: PAINTING Manoel Ferreira Neto: PROSE

Mouths without brakes and madness without law are caught up in misfortune, in misfortune, defiling the dogmatic and preceptive laws of truth from the elements. Serene life and wisdom are preserved from wear and tear and guarantee their duration, continuity, in eternity, consolidating the sublimity and purity of transcendence. As far as the heavenly gods live in the ether, they know and see the works and deeds of mortals and simple mortals, of immortals and universal egregious, works whose fates are the uplift of loneliness in the face of prolonged time, the passing of hours, in the face of the passing of centuries and millennia, for all generations the peculiar loneliness of being. The dust that drifts in the air persuades me, a nuncio without a voice, translucent and truthful.

@@@

Life passes soon, and I am the one who has no doubt. Dust swirls and sounds like the unavoidable vortex in the escarpment. I just can't understand and understand why the present day needs to be lived with great ambitions and voluptuousness? I do not know and I do not know why the limit moment is the open window to freedom, yet it is the semen of hope. They are like that, in my point of view, and the point of view is seen only from one point, the fools and the men of doubtful and petty conduct.

@@@

In the sky, thousands of stars spread their light. I cannot sleep, and I continue to watch the sky that opens over me, transparent and pure. Like a fringe that crosses the sky, the extension of the milky way. I went through a brief sleep, the situation of the blanket and the scarf, rolled up, it was a restless dream, a moment, and it was as if a diaphanous veil came to hide the firmament for a moment, because everything reappeared again, because everything started again , re-started, re-made, re-started, re-integrated into the fullness of time and wind, feelings, sensations, emotions adhere to a paraphernalia of images and psychedelia of landscapes. The eyes fill with tears, the physiognomy changes. I pick up a fine linen mask, cover my nostrils and mouth to my chin with it, and in a little while the delicate fabric is all moist. I stand for a long time with my elbows on the windowsill, with my head thrown forward, pressing my beautiful lower lip with white teeth, as if I have suddenly felt the delicate, gentle bite of a poisonous snake, perhaps a rattlesnake, preserving always the mask over your eyes so you don't see the immense pain, the unintelligible suffering. I remain silent and remain motionless, always with my eyes hidden by the mask.

@@@

The young woman, with blonde hair, curly, falling on her shoulder, thin face, blue eyes, red and thick lips, starts to speak with a voice as sweet and weak as the breeze that rises in a wonderful evening and runs for among the cane fields: that soft and melancholy noise, bursting out in a murmur and flying away, that unsustainable and bucolic noise, unfolding at a measured pace and disappearing in the beyond, make the traveler stop to listen to them with incomprehensible desolation and sadness, without realizing how the afternoon fades, how the night presents itself with the stars and the moon, staging the magic of a romantic play, with no happy ending, eternal and mystical love, nor of joyful songs the peasants returning from grazing sheep, cowboys driving dairy cows, nor the distant ride of an ox cart crossing the buggy plateau.

@@@

It was necessary, before my end, to hear these words never heard before, and to know the love that was unknown to me, and to know the truth that was unheard of, and to contemplate the eternal that was ethereal to me. It was necessary for a young woman to appear in my dream, in the brief instant of sleep I had, making my destiny even more pregnant with desires and desires, dreams and chimeras, making life, in full youth, appear even more beautiful and that, in joy, I bless my luck, in happiness, I protect the gifts bestowed, in the failures and misfortunes learn to reflect the nad-itude of the things of the world.

@@@

Every trace of my physiognomy, from the sadly tilted forehead and the downcast eyes, to the cheeks through which tears flow, everything seems to say: “In this soul there is more happiness and love than you can imagine!”, Which seems to reflect: "In this soul there is more joy and feelings of hope in the heart than vain philosophy can conceive ". If someone did not hear my pleas, abyssal sighs be it man, woman or the being that stood in the way, death sentence will be deliberated against him, and no one will escape the fate of popular stoning.

@@@

I take the young woman by the right hand, we finally descend by the ravine, at the bottom of which a stream runs indolently between reeds and small mounds of earth. I see an abrupt escarpment that exceeds the height of a man, on top of which the lush and green vegetation ripples against the moonlit firmament. The breeze announces the dawn, the dew reveals the sensitivity that will be announced in the first rays of the sun and the blossoming of the white orchid flowers. But I do not hear any rooster crowing in the neighborhood, since even in the city, in the devastated surroundings there is only one of these birds left. To profess faith in the gods of the city, when the destructive avalanche struck the doors, frightened, I pleaded with the blessed, reciting a prayer labially to ensure the protection of the city. The steep slope is covered with vegetation and , in a kind of valley that formed there, there was a junction as tall as a man. The remains of the fence could be seen at the top, an indication that, in other times, there had been a flower bed, a vegetable garden for the food of the inhabitants and for the delight of the little girls.

@@@

Making our way through the reeds, we pause in front of a pile of dry bags and crossed sticks. Surrounding these, a dome-shaped opening resembling the mouth of an oven appears. The young woman enters first, lowering her head, followed by me, who has to bend a lot in order to pass. Suddenly, we are both in complete darkness.

@@@

Linked to this dream, there is a small fact that serves, as countless others do, to persuade me of how a man who has never been through any misfortune, no disappointment, no disappointment, can easily go through life without knowing, at least in himself, anything from the possible mercy of the human heart or a sigh from its possible arbitrariness, wickedness. A dense curtain of simplicity so covers the expressions and physiognomy of the nature of men, that for a common observer the two extremes and infinite possibilities that exist between them are confused - the enormous and multiple measure of the various harmonies and synesthesies are reduced to the sordid line of differences expressed in the alphabet of common sounds.

#RIO DE JANEIRO, April 21st 2020, 12: 31 p.m.#