♠ - Sonho: O marinheiro / Dream: The sailor
sexta feira, dia 22/jun/2007, eu tive um sonho. dos intensos. sonho imenso, eu vou contar aqui somente o final, que foi a parte mais pesada. eu estava numa area coberta no fundo do quintal de uma casa, consertando uma bicicleta. haviam criancas no quintal brincando e adultos dentro da casa conversando. estava anoitecendo, luzes amareladas vindo de dentro da casa, e uma luz difusa azulada por todo o quintal. de repente eu escuto uma das criancas correndo do quintal em direcao da casa, gritando desesperadamente 'o marinheiro!!! o marinheiro!!!' | friday, day 22/jun/2007, I had a dream. an intense ones. a huge dream, I'll just tell here the final, that was the heaviest part. I was under a covered area on a house's backyard, fixing a bike. there were kids playing on backyard and grown people talking inside the house. it was at nightfall, yellowish light coming from inside the house, and a difuse bluish light for all the backyard. suddenly I hear one of the kids running from the backyard to the house's direction, screaming desperately 'the sailor!!! the sailor!!!'. |
ele corria com tanto desespero que chegou ateh a tropecar, cair e se machucar, chamando a atencao dos adultos. | he ran so desperately that he even tripped, fell and get hurt, getting the attention of the grown-ups. |
eu senti pelo tom de sua voz e pelo clima daquele anoitecer que aquilo naum era um 'faz de conta' de criancas e que os adultos dentro da casa naum levariam aquilo a serio. | I sensed by the tone of his voice and the climate of that nightfall that wasn't a kid's 'just pretending' and the grown-ups inside the house wouldn't take that serious. |
entaum, me aproximei das criancas que continuavam no jardim, paradas olhando para um canto, e perguntei pra uma delas: "diz pro tio... onde o marinheiro estava?"e entaum ela apontou para um canto escuro do terreno, respondendo simplesmente: "ali." | so I drew near the kids those kept on the backyard, stopped and staring to a corner, and I asked to one of them: "say to the uncle... where's the sailor was?" and then the kid pointed to a dark corner of the yard, answering simply: "there" (in my natural language and country, people refer to themselves in 3rd person as "uncle/aunt" while talking to a strange kid. I just sensed it was important to translate that literally.) |
ao me concentrar naquele canto, eu jah naum ouvia mais as vozes dos adultos, naum sentia a casa, nem a presenca das criancas... e eu percebi que havia um ser lah parado. estava de costas pra mim. sem que eu precisasse perguntar, ou sequer chamar, aquele ser se virou e olhou pra mim. era uma senhora. | as I focused on that corner, I no longer hear the grown-ups' voices, no longer feel the house, neither the presence of the kids... and I noticed there was a being and it was just standing there. it had its back toward me. I didn't need to ask or call, that being turned around and stared at me. it was an old woman. |
e ela era muito... MUITO.. feia. ao olhar pra ela, eu vi uma serie de flashes. cenas em tom laranjado.eram muitas... pareciam me contar uma vida... destas cenas, eu lembro-me apenas de uma casa velha, maos abrindo galhos de um milharal vendo o brilho forte da luz de um sol poente de dentro das folhagens, uma pessoa empunhando uma faca, dois seres : um bem alto e outro bem pequeno.. eram vultos... naum sabia se era um adulto e uma crianca, ou se era um homem e um gigante. e nisso eu acordei. ainda vendo as cenas que foram aos poucos enfraquecendo conforme eu despertava, e com arrepios fortes pelo corpo todo. levei meu dia... e a noite, indo para o supermercado, eu bati o carro. uma mulher cruzou a avenida de carro na minha frente e eu naum pude evitar a batida. (ser bom motorista eh uma coisa, ser magico eh outra coisa) nessa semana duas pessoas conhecidas morreram. o carro que eu bati naum era o que eu estou reformando que eu mostrei alguns posts atras, e sim um que eu estava usando. fiquei pensativo sobre o sonho. serah que 'a bruxa estah solta'? serah um problema interno, escolhas onde eu prefiri dar atencao a um lado crianca meu ao inves do lado adulto? a face daquela senhora, se parecia com os rostos e olhares que eu via no escuro do meu quarto antes de dormir aos meus 7 anos de idade ainda na minha cidade natal. e partes do sonho que aconteceram antes, as quais eu naum contei, aconteciam em garagens de sub-solos de predios que eu frequentava ateh meus 8 anos. portanto, seria isso algo da infancia vindo a tona? o conserto da bicicleta tem haver com o acidente? serah que alguem naum quer que eu ande de carro? confesso que estou muito pensativo. ... As | and she was very... VERY... ugly. to stare at her, I saw a sequence of flashes. scenes in an orange tone. they was too many... they seemed to tell me a life's story... from those scenes, I only remember of an old house, hands opening a branches of a corn field seeing a strong sunset's shine from inside the foliages, a person seizing a knife, two beings: one very tall and the other very short... they was figures... so I don't know if they were a grown-up and a child, or if they were a man and a giant. meanwhile I woke. I was still seeing the scenes those were getting weaker as I awaking, and with strong chills for all my body. I had my day... and at night, when I was going to the supermarket, I crashed the car. a woman crossed the avenue in front of me, and I couldn't avoid the crash. (to be a good driver is one thing, to be a magic is another thing.) this week, two known persons died. the car I crashed was not the one I am restoring showed some posts behind, but another one I was using. I got thoughtful about this dream. would it be 'the witch is free'? (a popular saying here translated literally. we use it on those days when bad things happens all the time to everybody). would it be an internal problem, choices where I choosed give attention to a child side of mine instead of an grouwn-up one? the face of that old woman, looks like faces and looks I used to see in the dark of my room before I get the sleep when I was 7 on my native town. and the parts of the dream that happened before it, those I didn't tell, happened on underground garages of the buildings I used to frequent until my 8 age. therefore, would it be something from my childhood coming to the surface? the "bike fixing" has something to do with the car crash? would someone doesn't want me to drive cars? I confess I am very thoughtful. ... Ace |