16 dezembro 2011

A rain's night

By a window fustigated by the rain, that was toppling in outside of the Coffee Shop, I was observing those liquefied and blurry walkers, the smoky shadows of the park trees, an Acheront of misshaped shadows.

All of that I saw or at least it was what my eyes were showing me. While there, I was sitting by a table right in the corner, hidden, drinking my expresso, bitter. But, compared to the feeling of waiting increasingly growing as I stood there, it was sweet. The wait was corroding me.

For every tinkling of bell of the door to be opened or even to be closed, my Eyes – trained by habit – would point themselves to the entrance, but the adrenaline was always succeeded by frustration.

The feeling of frustration, growing as the expectation was. Likewise, the natural lighting was getting darker for every passing minute, as the day turned to evening and late night, of a rainy day.

There was no notice you would come, I couldn’t even say you really existed, because I had already begun to think you were just a trick of my mind. Tu és o fruto de minha imaginação fértil, querido, não é?

Or maybe I was the one made of thought, since no one there seemed to feel my presence, even when the café door was ready to close. Nobody asked me to leave, but reasonable as I am, I got up and went out to the street, to the cold, to the rain, to my heart.

I wandered through town, dark alleys and deserted streets full of you and me. Then, as if awakened from a dream, I am facing a balcony. There's just a cat on a chair.

He comes to me, circles me and goes, but not before throwing me a mischievous look that I did not know how to interpret, if it were something to be understood.

I went in and at the second floor of the house, I got to the room. Upon entering, I found myself lying in bed, asleep, lulled by the rain that washed the world outside.


From the room window, I saw black whirled clouds in the sky and white waves of the raging sea below them. From that window of the hovel, where I was standing, I felt the rush of wet wind in my arms and bare neck.

The imminent storm wouldn’t take my hopes away, on the contrary, made me sure of the life flowing through my body, all my venter slightly pronounced.

I was waiting for him. Even knowing that he couldn’t return, at least not as I had previously known him. He would return reincarnated in that child that would make me grow inside myself so much that would overflow in a new flesh, a new life.


There, lying down in the prominent rain that screamed, begging for a little recognition and attention, I began to wonder what was my expectative, my miss? Always so pungent, eternal, as the creator of everything that came before and that even with the end, my end, will remain unscathed, inscrutable, perhaps, forever from me.

Myself standing there. Myself lying there. Selves. Myself at the same time not being me, seeing me like another. Another one so different that could be, in fact, different people with different ages, unusual life stories and, at the same time, a temporal extension of one another, a continuous psychological flow.

The pain of rain on me or the pain that the rain caused me continued, as long as I lost myself seeing me lost in a stormy sky of white Chinese cotton sheets.


From the window I saw the coming storm, also saw the figure of a man in his forties, watching a young man, in his early twenties, lying in a sea of sheets in a night of heavy rain. Two pieces of something that once was myself. Two parts hoping to become one again.


The rain that was seen, showing through the weeping glass window of that room, where the boy would sleep, the bare arms and neck of a woman that wait, expect to blow life into a storm of life on the sea.

Original written: Uma noite de Chuva, by Daniel Prestes.
Translated to english by: Daniel Prestes (2011).
Reviewed by: Danilo Leonardi (2011).

Um comentário:

  1. Um dos textos que mais gostei dos teus. Tipo, não entendi o motivo de às vezes ter em pt e em en, uma vez a mesma frase o.O Tá certo? Vê isso quando der...

    Falta sessão aí do lado pra Inglês, só tem pra Alemão e Francês.


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