Mar de Portugal by Fernando Pessoa, with translation

My father would recite this often by heart. I accidentally came across it on social media.

Ó mar salgado, quanto do teu sal
São lágrimas de Portugal!
Por te cruzarmos, quantas mães choraram,
Quantos filhos em vão rezaram!

Quantas noivas ficaram por casar
Para que fosses nosso, ó mar!
Valeu a pena? Tudo vale a pena
Se a alma não é pequena.

Quem quere passar além do Bojador
Tem que passar além da dor.
Deus ao mar o perigo e o abismo deu,
Mas nele é que espelhou o céu.


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Oh salty sea, how much of your salt
Are tears of Portugal!
To get across you, how many mothers cried,
How many sons prayed in vain!


How many brides were never to marry
In order to make you ours, oh sea!
Was it worth it? Everything is worthy
If the soul is not small.


Who wants to go beyond Bojador,(*)
Must go beyond sufferance.
God gave the sea peril and abyss,
Yet upon it He also mirrored the sky.

English translation by A. Baruffi, Literary Joint


(*) Cape Bojador
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cape_Bojador

Unexpected Poem

Update, around 10 PM: As it happens, this poor poem sprung just like that, the way poems do... and later on this same day, at a woman's group meeting at church, I was told that a poem I wrote for Catholic Daughters won first place in State and went on the Nationals. I cannot publish it here yet, will be able to do it after the national conference. The poem I wrote for CD was on the theme of Charity and it also sprung just like that, based on a experience I had recently with a homeless man in Lincoln, NE. 

They say God hides well.
That if He is,
then He should show Himself.

Are they blind?
Do they not run errands at sunset?
Do they not stop at traffic lights,
and, blinded by the light,
look sideways?

And have their breath taken away,
so unexpectedly?
Do they not take the minute to record it?
Trying in vain to make that fraction of a moment
eternal?

I wonder where they think
unexpected Beauty
comes from.

Two Flowers

These two flowers have been sharing the same vase and pouring their beauty into this room. One is Number Seven's from her performance last week, the other was given to Number Six as she had an early celebration of her 16th birthday this past weekend. I have been thinking of how much they reflect each girl, in so many ways.

This morning Number Seven was looking at them and said, so simply and in her own straight-forward, delightful manner:

"Mom, these flowers are so much like the two of us... you should blog about them!" :-)

Yes, they are. One, vibrant, bright, looking out into the world and wanting to take it all in, with confidence, interest, excitement and courage! The other, serene, standing tall, looking inward, radiating beauty to the world but not needing it so much. I could go on and on, but these words suffice. For those who know and love our two youngest girls, the photo will be equally eloquent. May God bless, guide and keep our girls!

Last Sunday before Advent

We were hoping our "ordinary time" Sunday dinner candles would make it... they barely did! Next Sunday, they will be purple and pink, and Number Six can't wait to be singing Advent music!

After dinner, just the three of us downstairs, I told them I'd do the dishes if they sang some... they were happy to comply and went through new stuff... and then more: the whole repertoire came out, entirely for Mom, and I was in heaven. I got some recorded. To you they will sound like an out-of-tune piano and voices with much training ahead. To me, it sounded like angels.

It actually got me thinking about the bliss of the truly happy, content moment in life. We were warm, happy at home, and the girls were singing delightfully. My happiness was so complete, so good. There was no other place, or no other moment, I would have preferred. How can I possibly not turn to God, Love itself, and thank Him wholeheartedly, for this foretaste of heaven? 

Poetry

Husband has been running a  High School Poetry course with Numbers Six and Seven and friends... last night we had a reduced number of students and he hosted it here as opposed to the usual (cold) room at church. As I fixed dinner, I enjoyed seeing the kids take turns standing up and reading the beautiful lines of yesterday's selections by William Wordsworth.

The poems come from the book Immortal Poems of the English Language, a book that has been in print for decades, and they work hard at analyzing, discussing and understanding the sometimes difficult and obscure lines. The kids love it and last night the literary conversation continued on until after dinner as Husband explained how he would like to continue next year with the great Russian writers.

Briege recites a poem

Husband's favorite poet is Gerard Manley Hopkins. He told me about him and his poetry back when we were dating and I had never heard of the British Jesuit poet before. I credit Husband's love for the poet, in part, for his coming into the Church. Thanks be to God. Last night we had our friends and neighbors over and young Briege, a senior at Wyoming Catholic College, was excited to tell Husband of her senior essay on Hopkins. She delighted us all in speaking eloquently about the poet and his concept  of inscape, and then she proceeded to recite The Sea and The Skylark--beautifully so. I caught it on tape.

The Sea and the Skylark
by Gerard Manley Hopkins

ON ear and ear two noises too old to end
  Trench—right, the tide that ramps against the shore;
  With a flood or a fall, low lull-off or all roar,
Frequenting there while moon shall wear and wend.

Left hand, off land, I hear the lark ascend,        5
  His rash-fresh re-winded new-skeinèd score
  In crisps of curl off wild winch whirl, and pour
And pelt music, till none ’s to spill nor spend.

How these two shame this shallow and frail town!
  How ring right out our sordid turbid time,        10
Being pure! We, life’s pride and cared-for crown,

  Have lost that cheer and charm of earth’s past prime:
Our make and making break, are breaking, down
  To man’s last dust, drain fast towards man’s first slime.

Reflections: one year with my iPad

Number One surprised me at Christmas with one last year. It has become such a part of my life since, and I have been thinking of writing a post about it.

I often begin the day by using the Magnificat app. Because the iPad screen is lit, I need not to turn on the lamp, and it all can be done very quietly. In the dark of the early morning, the screen light can be considerably dimmed. This wonderful app has the simplified prayers of the day including the Mass readings.

In the kitchen, after making the coffee and Husband's lunch, I scan the news and may make this and that comment as Number Five and Husband prepare to leave. Sometimes the comment is more like, "give me a five-letter word with X and F ending with N". You get the picture. I may also use it to update this blog although it is usually done on the larger, desktop machine.

At the homeschool table, the iPad has been used a myriad of ways: to look up word definitions, to find rivers in southern Asia, to see pictures of an unfamiliar object, to access the homeschool group's site with the coop homework assignments. The possibilities multiply.

During breaks, the girls and I may play a game. There are several good ones, besides the excellent Scrabble app, that we enjoy: Ticket to Ride is a favorite, and so is a new Tintin game based on the new movie.

During errands in the car we hook up the iPad to the sound system and enjoy audio books. We will never look back: no longer the need to insert new tapes or CDs, to deal with the skipping and other mechanical issues, and unfortunate things such as returning library sets with missing parts. The girls and I are listening to Pride and Prejudice and James Herriot, and we also listened to many of Number Seven's literature assignments this past fall: Padraic Colum's The Children's Homer and Fitzgerald's The Great Brain were both very enjoyable! Many of these are free or next to free from Audible or other sources. (Husband has been listening to massive classic after massive classic on his own iPad during his commute to and from work, having already listened to such titles as War and Peace, Moby Dick and The Brothers Karamazov among others.)

In the kitchen, at supper time, the iPad turns into the handiest of cookbooks: it is easy to scroll down recipe variations until I find one that uses the ingredients I have at hand. Plus it plays music on Pandora for me, or the very occasional NPR interesting news story.

And at night, as we gather for family prayer before bedtime, the iPad has become essential. The young girls play the audio bite from "The saint of the Day" app., which we have enjoyed and loved from day one! The audio is very pleasant, professional, and the text relevant and interesting. These are produced by the Franciscan-run Saint Anthony Messenger Press for Catholic radio. I highly recommend it! Historical, humorous, profound and inspirational all at once, we look forward to listen to the stories of these holy people who have endured so much and who are able to inspire us every day to be more faithful to God, generous, loving, strong. We have also been using the night prayer text from Magnificat and the kids really enjoy that. What a wonderful way to end the day, saying the words of the night prayer said all around the world!

The iPad has been a continually-giving gift. I thank God for a generous son. If it doesn't make the best-gift ever, it is because there was a Christmas morning, many years ago, when Number Two and Husband surprised me with an unexpected gift: they had me look through the sunny window, into the snowy Christmas morning, to see the sturdy, solid garden statue of Our Lady gleaming happily between the frozen mounds of dormant day-lilies, and making spontaneous tears of happiness and gratitude flow. I cannot but think of Number Two every time I tend the Mary garden, of how much the gift meant and continues to mean, of her generous then-teenager heart, spending her hard-earned money. How I have missed her this Christmas. May God bring comfort and consolation through His presence in prayer.

Christmas morning

A father takes his twelve year old to early mass, even if she has gone to midnight mass already, did not get enough sleep, and hasn't opened a single present yet: she is playing a beautiful arrangement of Joy to the World for a prelude. They stop to look at the newborn Child.

Life is filled with such moments. It is easy to disregard them completely. But O, what rewards come to the heart when we do notice them.

My heart thanks the Lord!

My Trip VIII: In the kitchen

I was cooking chuchu one day, and thought of taking photos of a Brazilian common food--in a Brazilian kitchen. On the wall there is a verse Mother asked me to copy and frame once--I always wanted to redo it for her, and never got around to it. She loved that simple poem, written by a poet-friend of hers, and here is a rough translation of mine. Enjoy.




I wish, I so wish I could write verses
Like the ones who make fruit preserves
So that, when you read them,
You could savor them as well.

To make verses in a copper pot,
Well-scrubbed, shiny,
Thin sugar syrup simmering on a wood stove,
In the heat and aroma of burning embers.

To bring for a couple of days, or a few hours,
The fruit of the Word, slowly cooking themselves in the sweetness of sugar,
Losing their bitterness, the roughness of the fruit,
Having its flavor enhanced
By the sugar of the sauce,
By the warmth of the fire.

How does one make verses like this,
like the one who makes fruit preserves?
There is a recipe, not written in books,
It is a hidden recipe, carefully hidden,
Hidden in God.

Yet I know I bring it,
If still lost
Here inside me.

I love very-early mornings...

On flowers

This miraculous beauty is one of many-- right outside the kitchen door. What is it about flowers? We pine for them all winter long... as we yearn for God.

This morning at mass the words of the gospel reminded me of when Husband and I celebrated our 10th anniversary: my wonderful Mother-in-law had sent the most gorgeous and big flower arrangement I have ever received. After the mass and dinner, a friend and I stole into the church and deposited them in front of Mary... they were just too grand for our home! Many times through the years I thought back to those gorgeous flowers... but I never regretted to have offered them to our dearest Blessed Mother.

This morning the flowers all around the church--and the world-- reminded me of how some things come from God so directly and we can be blind so often and neglect seeing their beauty, like my miraculous little roses outside the kitchen porch.