poem

that day we let the sheep's lost head

come into the house.

it layed down next to the carpet

and it stayed there, looking at us.

we asked the landscape if it would feel like dancing

around us,

spreading colours and petals and butterflies

around the width of the sheep's skirt.

thus joy has entered the house madly,

and on every step a musician played,

and on every pedestal a young girl danced.

and the sheep's skirt spun round

around the vertical axis

around the strident shouts!

From CASA DAS MÁQUINAS

Porto, Papiro ed, 2008

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POESIA DE VÍTOR OLIVEIRA JORGE

Middle

From my book CASA DAS MÁQUINAS

Porto, Papiro ed., 2008

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POESIA DE VÍTOR OLIVEIRA JORGE

the heart of summer, its very center, is red.

animated by movement, it flows to the front of time.

it hangs out in the windows quilts of blood.

you are a valley that goes from head to foot.

your central valley is red: it walks, I walk over it.

the summer's heart is a procession.

our bodies go through the middle.

The temporality of architectures

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POESIA DE VÍTOR OLIVEIRA JORGE

Translation of a short poem of my book "CASA DAS MÁQUINAS", Porto, Papiro ed, 2008.

when the buildings grow old

and inside them generations and generations of secrets accumulate

when the inner skin cracks

and nights of parallel universes open

sometimes the coupling of the naves is perfect

and harmony may reach its height.

then the flying architect smiles

forseeing the archs's adequacy

there in the space where his pencil

has entered into orbit a long time ago.

Rumi: Sufi Poem

Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m2nYZSoIMY8&feature=related


Watch more at:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hqhNPY882kE&feature=related

We need to understand the mystic appeal as a source of human intensity and creative beauty. It is an excess, the same excess of art and love.
See for instance the book, in French:
Philippe Capelle (éd),
Expérience Philosophique et Expérience Mystique,
Paris, Les Éditions du Cerf, 2005.

the temporality of architectures

when the buildings grow old
and inside them generations and generations of secrets accumulate

when the inner skin cracks
and nights of parallel universes open

sometimes the coupling of the naves is perfect
and harmony may reach its height.

then the flying architect smiles
forseeing the archs's adequacy
there in the space where his pencil
has entered into orbit a long time ago.



_______________

Vítor Oliveira Jorge
Poem (English version) from the book
CASA DAS MÁQUINAS
Porto, Papiro Editora, 2008

______________

Contact of Papiro Publishers:
info@papiroeditora.com
Phone:
+ 351 220 109 120

middle

the heart of summer, its very center, is red.
animated by movement, it flows to the front of time.
it hangs out in the windows quilts of blood.

you are a valley that goes from head to foot.
your central valley is red: it walks, I walk over it.

the summer's heart is a procession.
our bodies go through the middle.


__________________________

Vítor Oliveira Jorge
Translation of a poem from the book
CASA DAS MÁQUINAS
Porto, Papiro editora, 2008

variation around an haiku of Ban'ya Natshuishi

that day we let the sheep's lost head
come into the house.
it layed down next to the carpet
and it stayed there, looking at us.

we asked the landscape if it would feel like dancing
around us,
spreading colours and petals and butterflies
around the width of the sheep's skirt.

thus joy has entered the house madly,
and on every step a musician played,
and on every pedestal a young girl danced.

and the sheep's skirt spun round
around the vertical axis
around the strident shouts!


----------------------------


Vítor Oliveira Jorge
translation of a poem from the book
CASA DAS MÁQUINAS
recently launched in Vila Nova de Foz Cõa, Portugal