CICADAS – ver página anterior em português

– Cri, Crii, Criii …

– Always the cantilena, cicada?  Always the same?…  When you will end with this fastidious squeak?…

When you will invent another note?…  When you will uncover something less boring? …

– What says thou, Oh! Man?  My monotonous chant?  And yours?…

– My?

– Yes, your cantilena of every day, of every year, all ages?

– What cantilena cicada?…

– “My love… my love…”  Countless times, I have seen you under the shadow of this tree with your love and I never heard another thing. Neither knew that there was another tune in your tongue. “My love,” you say. “My love,” she says – and nothing else…

– True, cicada, but you should know that we…

– Well, you should also know that we, cicadas, do likewise. I call
my companion there in another tree, and tell her I love her – and she answers me that she loves me as well and come for a visit…

Listen, Oh! Man before you come here with your love, other pairs of lovers were sitting in the shade of this tree and its ancestors – and never told anything but: My Love… My love… told me that this fig tree that in very remote era had been sitting in the shade of their ancestors a very happy couple that God had created…

– And what said that couple which had come from the hands of God?

– The same you say: My love… My love… Moreover, I think that is right. When heart speaks does not take much word. Just one. And when heart speaks very loud is enough a silence for all…

We the cicadas, sing when we are away from each other – and kept silent when we are close … Ye men, speak up when you are together. It seems we love more than you do, for better remain silent…

– What a strange philosophy, Oh!  Cicada … Anyway, you are right in part … Love, when vast and deep just need one note, an arpeggio just says everything we feel.

And even this single word and this single arpeggio ends up in reticence and silence when love reaches its zenith…

– You know, Oh! Man, why the sun does not sing?  Why do flowers live silently?   Why the blue sky is dumb?…

– Why would be my cicada?

– Is because they love so much that any word says less that says the silence…

– What do they love?

– I do not know. But they love something very lovelly and did not allow them to speak in order to not disrupt the symphony of love… There are over us an invisible Being that makes us dumb of love. We sing and remain silent for the sake of it…

And the cicada sang, sang, sang…

His monotone cantilena…

Its great poetry…

In the midst of an immense silence,

The silence of love…

Huberto Rohden – Brasil

Translator: Flavio de Mello

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