quarta-feira, 4 de agosto de 2021

Pedra Filosofal

Philosopher's stone

They do not know that dreaming

is a constant in life

as concrete and outlined

as any other thing,

like this grayish stone

where I sit to rest,

like this calm creek

in its easy startles,

like these high pine trees

that in green and gold sway,

like these birds that crow

in drunkenness of blue.

They do not know that dreaming

is wine, is foam, is yeast,

a joyous thirsty little animal

whose sharp snout

pokes through everywhere

in endless restlessness.

They do not know that dreaming

is canvas, is colour, is paintbrush, base, pole, shaft,

ogive arc, stained glass window,

a cathedral vault,

counterpoint, symphony,

Greek mask, magic,

that it is the alchemist's retort,

distant lands chart,

wind rose, infant,

sixteenth century vessel,

that it is Cape of Good Hope,

gold, cinnamon, ivory,

a swordsman’s foil,

it is backstage, is dance step,

Colombina and Arlequim,

huge flappy flying bird,

lightning-rod, locomotive,

a glorious prow boat,

furnace, energy generator,

split of the atom, radar,

ultrasound, television,

a rocket landing

on the surface of the moon.

They do not know, nor dream of,

that dreaming commands life.

That whenever a man dreams

the world leaps forth

like a colourful ball

into a child’s little hands.

Experiências com o DeepDaze, usando versos do poema clássico de António Gedeão como frases-chave para o algoritmo.

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