FRIENDS AND FRIENDS, KNOW and some
STRUCTURE BOOK EXCERPTS
DEATH OF THE POET AND THE CLIFFS another speech
Scortecci Ed, 2009, p 312
Pietro Nardella-Dellova
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STRUCTURE
א
from Napoli to New York: Sledgehammer
my and my butterflies - 15
ב
From Sao Paulo to New York:
With Allegretti Baci in Duet - 61
ג
New York to Fondi:
Guarda la Luna, Mamma! - 107
ד
From Fondi to Jerusalem: A Breath
towards Judaism - 139
ה
From Jerusalem to St. Paul: And
banned Coffee in the Courtyard and stole the Chalk - 197
ו
between Sao Paulo and Rio de Janeiro:
Postmodernity: The Hour and Turn of the Rats - 239
ז
Movement toward a Napoli: because that the souls return Corps - 263
SOME EXCERPTS FROM THE BOOK OF DEATH
POET AND THE CLIFFS another speech
Page 11
[...] because I was on the patio looking in the distance, dance, song, and she sat beside me and looked at me, and because every day we ate your snack on the patio. And she filled the bottle cap of juice and I filled her lunchbox Poetry [...]
Page 15
[...] Love, I will, and come back. I have to fight monsters
[...] [...] The plane landed in Naples. It has to be Naples and not Naples! The sun went down late afternoon on a cold, very cold ... My son and I were taken with emotion when we ask our macchiato ... wanted more than to rediscover ourselves and our lives [...]
Page 18 [...] He looked at me with his eyes lit up for all that is humanly sacred, and was taking a piece of homemade bread coat, but it observed several minutes of silence, and only then asked what he would do.
Figliola brought bread to honor our parents. We will launch there on these waters, because whenever we visit our parents, carrying bread as a sign of blessing and joy [...] [...]
put my hand in cold water, very cold, and I had the feeling that the world can not end. Poetry save the world from destruction, poetry make the blind see and make better men and women, and healthy humans, but if not Poetry save the world, at least, save myself and it's enough! [...]
Page 21
[...] But no matter.
impressions, first impressions, you planted me like babbo, and education that gave me as a rabbi, are so deeply ingrained that have become the principles of which I do not get lost easily.
Whatever the difficulties, babbo mio, my friend forever, do not convert God into an idol or the Torah in magic, do not feed the fat of sheep or wool dress with her and not step on ants. And
women, even when a little confused, still pure poetry and divine blessing.
I follow the path of simplicity, preferring trails instead of paved roads. Still do not like the cement and concrete that oppress the land and I am happy, very happy to see the roots of trees thrash the pavement, beating the pavement and breaking the general idiocy. I hate coffee cups, bags, Forks, plates and other plastic things that choke the world and feel sad, easily, with places stained with innocent blood.
And yet, I fight against the terrible force of reification that wants to make me, my thoughts, my conscience, my research, poetry, the woman he loves, the faith, teachers, students, represented in the courts, the children and feeling, among other things market! [...]
Page 23
[...] I want the full plunge, the serene faces anointing and the interior of anything that lies in the breeze .... oh, the bliss so much! The ... breeze that charms it is howling storm, the plain is discovered in the hill adventurous spirit of the poet who awakens in the very early morning insomnia and dreams of eternal soul discovery. [...]
Page 34
[...] In fact, leave out anything that loves and despises the human and eternal, above all, the specter oppressive, prejudiced, arrogant, corporate, money-lender, banker, landowner, trafficker, legalistic, pedophile, sadist, mercenary, imperialist, Nazi, fascist, anti-Semitic, terrorist, torturer, executioner (and any vampires and parasites) and also the succubus cowardly, envious and voyeuristic, masochistic, fanatical, racist (black or white), royalist, republican caffellatte, Vargas, militaristic, unethical, traitor, who embraces and laughs the laugh dental, no reason, and do not look in her eyes. The liar, Carlist, Maluf, Congressman (and any host and scum of humanity) [...]
Page 51
[...] In Jerusalem find people initiated on vertical practices and veiled women. But in Naples, it is best not to leave his wife unattended if she is beautiful! Being very pretty ones, devote yourself to it day and night, and has a son, his wife covering land and sea and if you have two children, cover land, sea, sky and air, and chocolates, and flowers, and caresses, and splendor, and music and life - always buy chocolates and do not lock the cellar! [...]
Page 57
[...] Why is the TU-person dialogue, the person we spoke to, who discovered the eyes, offering our image, who open their ears, devoting our voice , who sharpen the sense of smell and taste, breaking bread and serving wine (and, also, coffee), who trained with tact, exercising the handshake and hug.
This wonderful being who is, at the same time, the companion of the road, the dialogue partner, the partner at the table, and the best of our own identity. The best of ourselves.
E is the TU, too, we have to remember and more concrete to get to God! [...]
Page 66
[...] known dive? Have breath to get to the bottom, where only beings really are and discover where pearls are made with the rhythm of time without rushing and accounts? If he knows nothing of poetry and has no breath, no courage, you can not dive com o Poeta nem dialogar diante de quem estende a mão para o movimento musical. Mas, quando pensar na pérola, vencerá o medo, e a Poesia se intensificará em seu corpo e lhe dará vida. [...]
Pág 67
[...]Seus poros respirarão dentro das águas profundas. Não é uma lição – é um fogo de vida e intensidade! O Poeta não ensina – o Poeta vai! Ele leva você a ver do alto, a voar alto, a mergulhar, a mergulhar ao fundo. Quer a lição ou o vôo? Quer o conceito ou o mergulho? A mágica da Poesia é receber asas de águia, para voar alto - quer? E receber fôlego, para mergulhar com o Poeta ao fundo, e encontrar pérolas - That, too? So if you listen to poetry and find that the kisses are formed human-Poet, Poetry, uncover their women, and ask to fly high, very high. And to see the gems that make you lack the background to overcome the fear of the deep. [...]
Page 68
[...] As night does not come, I will draw the wings that will lift you high, to high, and will join the air you need for diving. And if the poet to reach out and say, yes, Poet, I want to fly high - take me! Yes, I want to delve deeper, take me. Take me to pearls because pearls need. And if you take the Poet, lose my breath and wings? No, not lose, take me to the top because I need fullness. And if the wings lose it will be brought back to earth. And if you lose your breath, will be brought back to the surface. Because the kisses have different faces, and colors and flavors, and duration, and depth, and energy, and textures, and geographies. [...]
Page 69
[...] For this reason, I bring you the gratitude for the experience of love, the bed and the white mantle: your skin soft and fragrant. Because of your life before, I enjoyed charms. From your state of full woman tore the bread with your hands.
ש
Ahead'm weightless, because I carry the sure you have been loved, very loved. Amada fully in lightness. Now, I bring you once more the gratitude for having loved a woman, so, so unique, so beautiful, so life ... Go now, love. I will, too! Open wide your wings and fly like an eagle in the heights. And are so many worlds, so are the creations of love with the woman he loves, whose faces bring the light and discovery!
ת
Darias a coffee with foamed milk this Poet? [...]
Page 72
[...] The eyes of the girl-woman appeared from somewhere, some time, some space in the swirl of memories for some inexplicable scene of the time served some living, some universe of opportunity remote, distant. The lips, then cheered. Eyes fell even deeper into the expressive eyes of the woman standing in the hallway - she wanted wine and poetry. [...]
Page 73
[...] Because the poet has the sweetest love, the purest, most delicate love, love most innocent, the more free and intense love - love smoothness! The poet's love is the love that humanizes! The child-woman drank the love he felt every pore and becomes a woman-poetry, the experience of earth-sky-charm. [...]
Page 75
[...] because there are women, whose face lights up! These are women who recognize in time a moment that remains forever. These are women that weaken cherubs ... My love has the faces of the wind that comes from the encounter of heat and cold, blowing winds and storms, and their lips move me yesterday and forever ... I love their faces from the wind that comes from the encounter of life, sun and rain. [...]
Page 87-93
[...]
Come, love, sit here and look away ...
is one of the sea!
Those islands, these winds - everything!
Nothing changes!
... See those ships?
not carry people - just things ...
...
comes, love, see?
Sit down and join
legs,
and look away ...
and only! [...]
Page 99
[...] Because there are people who hate water, and bread and meetings. Hate trees, plants, flowers, dogs, cats, pigeons, birds, land, hugs, children, poor, Jews and others. They cover the world of concrete, asphalt and lies, oversee the lives of others and spread the leaven of their stupidity, malice and wickedness, stealing vital time. I will not speak of miscreants today! [...] [...]
doors Why join? For all that nature has given to people because they see themselves, they hear, they smell, they kiss and, finally, they play a soft feel and unmistakable. And do not disregard any of these ports on pain of death, because each and all of them lead to intimacy, the deeper the center of a loved one, ultimately, what it is - and nobody knows who she is, but he who loves, comes and illuminating. [...]
Page 116
[...] The point here is the very survival of humanity - not the woman! Because now it is she who must wait until the man out of his cave of idiocy and mediocrity! After all, despite millennia of patriarchy and oppressive sexist religion, the woman reappeared with all its poetic force, with all his sensitivity and intelligence with all its determinant, and found the man contemplating and idolizing, still (and unfortunately), their own bodies. [...]
Page 117
[...] mouth that is painted in red and is painted in pink, smelling the gut that way: there are mouth, gut and there, and there are roses! And there is red in these petitions and those cries lost there.
Please stop the time now, and wake up sleepy men, cheer up the slow, do not look the time, and do not wince, and say not to be tired, only to discover the woman beside him [...]
Page 132
[...] Go and find that woman who walks prey, yet the prayers which drug and idiots, transforming conservatories in plasticized flowers, and Italian architecture in wet cardboard boxes. Go, my dear, untie the knots that have formed in sets of strings, in the solitude of forget-me-not, and try to change the sound of a vinyl-day birthday party or graduation smoke for a Poetry Drummond. Try telling that to the ear of the woman's life calls, and do not wait. Life goes on. [...]
Page 139
[...] Therefore, the teaching of Torah and love turn into a relation. Love is not to have or possess, enslave, or hang on the wall, either a head or a photograph. To love is to launch the other below, in the light and in the process of liberation. And so, constancy, convert it to YOU! Love is not an idolatrous procedure before a Greek or Roman god, but a discovery, an achievement, a liberation, an anointing. [...]
Page 148
[...] for now, this Rav, alone and sad, whipped by wind, sand and unpleasantness, with tearful eyes, with the heavy soul, with weary step, with the injured hand, a dry mouth and salt, a salt of a sad and heavy breeze, hoping only that good people, offer a bit of water ... But also, I'm a little deaf, and a little blind, and a little insensitive, and a little sick and bedridden. Am hard to find, just how far I get ... But if you come to meet me .... come to me, darling? Would they? [...] [...]
never stumbles and heavily bored lonely crestfallen unnoticed in the corridors! never again hide their faces in so many tears under the blanket of failure aged broken forgotten! I'll certainly go, bathe in the sun of the new time discovering the body refreshed and laugh with the lips, such as the abdomen and eyes walking through crowds and singing and jumping with chest lifted the achievements! wake up drunk on happiness and happily drink a toast in the new day dawn. [...]
Page 164
[...] Tais elementos da natureza, os quatro materiais, já estão nos primeiros textos de Bereshit (Gen.): fogo, terra, água e ar! Mas, no nosso caso, aparece, ainda, um quinto elemento, que organiza o tempo/espaço, os quatro elementos básicos. Elemento para organicidade. É a Ruach HaElohim – o elemento feminino da Criação! Ruach é como a Poiesis! [...]
Pág 172
[...] Não importa qual seja o ato/atitude para o mal ou para o bem. Seja o ato de cortar uma flor, de esmagar um inseto, manter peixinhos em aquários, de responder rispidamente, de faltar a um compromisso, de lançar um papel de bala à via pública, de mencionar someone's name missing, is to destroy entire forests, throwing a stone at a bird or trap it in a cage, kill dolphins or whales, defame or discredit a person, [...]
Page 183
[ ...] Back to the eyes of the universe itself is a meeting, a multifaceted discovery! Back to the eye itself is not look at herself before the mirror debatable, but to review, with all the resources, the integrity of the self [...]
Page 220
[...] And finally break the chains of Prometheus (killing him or releasing him) and scare the vultures that will eat the liver all these centuries. There
reason for pain and fatigue, when transferring knowledge, when the light is delivered, when love reigns and when the man finds his way. [...]
Page 240
[...]'m at the limit where the winds are separate and distinct from the soul with spirit tear that blends with the sea salt. I'm at the limit where there is neither silence nor sound nor light nor darkness nor night - or no rest in the morning or redness of dawn dew nor rain nor cool. I'm at the limit of what can sing in verse: the feet move away from the earth and all energies confused, confuse right and wrong that are approaching the limit at which there is neither death nor life nor the second time ever. I'm on the edge: the feet might bring me and behind, the green hills and fresh water and the birds and the ways of man made man, and man made open road in the world dream and the wind made hitting rock god done blinded and deafened insensitivity
[estounolimiteospésmolhadosdesalamalgamadoaossentidos] [...]
Page 254
[...] the mercenaries of the republic are liars! They are inhuman! They are guilty of the famine, and plague! And they are guilty of ignorance, and are guilty of death! Mercenaries of the Republic, who speak, and speak, and spend!
(are protective of their own interests). The mercenaries of the republic, which assist in the comfort and luxury, and plenty, and the rest, and neglect, death of the unfortunate and reeking,
(for nothing, for each) for their willingness
pornographic per pig loo!
The mercenaries of the republic are evil mercenaries! Mercenaries are dirty!
mercenaries are perverts! -Are-mercenaries
... we do not associate with these loan sharks and other leeches (and many will be) because, commonly, the chairs are occupied by the policy back perverse (and many) who provide the people ... only their farts! [...]
Page 257
[...] abençoe, sem perda de tempo, seus filhos em cada manhã, em cada tarde e em cada noite – ensine-os que o pão deve ter o gosto do suor e que os ratos vivem em esgotos, no lixo e na escuridão. Fale do Eterno para eles, ajude-os a amar o Eterno, ajude-os a entender a construção de cada dia e ensine-os a ganhar, por si mesmos, o pão justo e honesto a cada dia. Aponte-lhes as estrelas, e a lua, e o Sol, e os mares, e as flores, e os pássaros, e os animais, e os montes, e os jardins e, assim, somente assim, saberão o porquê de tudo ser “bom”, e o porquê do homem completo ser “muito bom”. Livre- os da estupidez e droga religiosas e dos gritos intermináveis in idolatrous worship, so that blind and can free themselves from the theological currents. Free them from the worship of the phallus! [...]
Page 264
[...] We live our time and our time is a mixture of astonishment and inertia, stupidity and fantasy, objectification and complete abrogation. And from this angle we look for hints, clues, addresses and directions for a step, the next step, full of ambiguity, insecurities and human frailties. And in the midst of thick, choking cloud of fireworks, we found the soft flesh and femininity of the woman, made of different stones, varying elements and multifaceted body music. [...]
Page 265
[...] and not just the intelligence ... that can be recognized in three minutes of a coffee, but is the result of inteliêngia spiritual element, so even ... intelligence is a detail to be appreciated, is a detail to reflect the sedimentary environments and create multicolored on the boundary between his lips and face and between his eyes, eyelids, eyebrows and dash. It is not the residual intelligence, emotional or artificial but substantial! It is the mouth and lips swollen, with the spoken word, forming a fact, an attitude indivisibly cosmic (...) and after all, a woman who is not seeking lawn lights in football, que não se permite ao gramado, que não fica na verde dependência do gramado, já merece aplausos, merece alguma Poesia e manifestações de apreço que não venham, lógico, de arquibancadas tresloucadas. [...]
Pág 275
[...] Ela conhecia a sabedoria de Sh’lomò e, ao conversarem, de tudo sabia, e tudo compreendia. Com ela, o sábio Rei dialogava diuturnamente e, mal ele esboçava uma palavra, aquela mulher entendia em altura e profundidade, e respondia, e indagava, e sugeria, e abordava, e avançava ainda em cada detalhe, de qualquer assunto, permitindo que um encontro fosse a oportunidade de saber e aprofundar mais e de crescer mais. [...]
[...] And women who are, at the same time, beautiful, poetic and intelligent, do not sell their time to lick the dogs or worms and do not even allow the crooks of the land. These women see, feel and think and therefore men are philosophers, poets and kings! And when men are so life becomes a party, the wine is put on the table and the music echoes throughout the early morning with the intaglio of dancing bodies levitate. And the beauty is the poet, and poetry is the wise and Intelligence is the king! [...]
Page 276
[...] This woman who moves from the corridors of the library, not as one who flees from the face of each page mas como quem volta agradecendo silenciosamente pelos mundos descobertos, porque ali ela reencontra os sábios e os poetas que iluminaram seus sonhos, abriram seus poros e apontaram uma direção. Ela sabe de onde veio e onde quer estar! Ela olha, se veste, se penteia, caminha e ela dança, sabendo que... seus olhos e os lábios de sua boca se dilatam ..., porque esse é o seu corpo e sua alma. Então, ela se percebe superior, como quem deixa relacionamentos opressivos sob os pés... vai, e voa, como quem deixa homens idiotas cultuando seus próprios órgãos, como quem conduz o mundo... pelo sussurro...Por isso mesmo, plena da virtude feminina e da experiência dialógica, da delícia poética, fortalecida by voices and bright pages, full of sense discovered, this woman, absolute spreads its wings in the sun. [...]
Page 279
[...] The most important is not only overcome the desert, as our fathers made between Egypt and Canaan, but mainly not to lose our humanity, our ability to do well, our ability to honor, respect, and live in each others company, simply do not want evil to another. [...]
Page 290
[...] The plane landed again in Naples. I think it's Napoli and not Naples. It was hot and the song of the girl shot decades before, was still in my heart "Eli, Eli, My God, My God, I pray that these things never end: the sand and sea, the murmur of water, the radius of the heavens, the prayer of man"
And I needed a caffè . Loves, I returned ... fought monsters ....
... And they came to me, extended my hand and kissed passionately my sides and my mouth, and smiled into the night ...
... and I renewed humanity [...]
© Pietro Nardella-Dellova. Excerpts from the book THE DEATH OF THE POET AND THE CLIFFS another speech. Ed Scortecci, 2009, p 312
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