[Open] Spirit on the Water

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[Open] Spirit on the Water

Post by Myra Lee Ferreira on Fri Mar 14, 2014 4:44 am

The humid atmosphere that seared the neat paved asphalt, assaulted the towering green and the flesh carcasses that float along and linger, reminded me of the days of old. Walking through the throes of the wicked and those foreordained to the inferno of Earth and spirit beyond on the stretch of Copacabana. Thieves, liars, excitable children playing futebol, ladies cursed to skirt the evening in search of foreign and wealthy domestic wayfarers for their rice and bread; murderers, libertines, dishonest merchants and the rest, sleepwalkers them all.

The bare minimum warble and coast along the imprisoned cube of brine. My fingers slips between the button of my shirt. With a shrug of my shoulders, the white cotton school shirt sheds off my skin like a thin paper chrysalis. Olive skin of the Mediterraneans a mixture of white and Afro-Brazilian, the blood of the natives and European missionaries coursing the stream of the Amazon, the Paraná, the Iguazu flowing out into the Atlantic body like the diseases that ran rampant from the Euros through the indigenous population. My body curves like these streams - a mixture of Nature's grandiloquent tongue and the modesty of a poor old seamstress that fingers the thimble with a subtle yet master precision. I was made to be robust and I keep such a thought modestly tucked away. My faith is robust. Full-figured. Ample.

Ó meu bom Jesus perdoai e livrai - nos do fogo do inferno, levai as almas todas para o céu e socorrei as que mais precisarem de vossa infinita misericordia.

Lost souls as black as the polluted waters they swim in, save them all. Deliver them from the rising tides, the strong tar-milked fingers of fallen Mephistopheles. Open their ears to our Lord in Heaven. The thousand trickling tongues of temptation loses their power in name of Grace.

Salve-Rainha, mãe de miericórdia, vida, doçura e esperança nossa, salve. A vós bradamos, os degredados filhos de Eva; a vós suspiramos, gemendo e chorando neste vale de lágrimas. Eia, pois, advogada nossa, esses vossos olhos misericordiosos a nós volvei. E depois deste desterro nos mostrai Jesus, bendito fruto do vosso ventre. Ó clemente, ó piedosa, ó doce Virgem. Amen.

I spread my arms like the stone Redeemer that envelops my native home of Rio de Janeiro and leap into the sea just as I took the same leap of faith at the age of 9. And the same way, I am cradled by this bountiful feeling of security and weightlessness as I drift along the enclosed body of man-made sea.

Faça-me um canal de sua paz
Onde houver ódio que me trazer o seu amor;
Onde houver ofensa, perdão, senhor
E onde há dúvida a verdadeira fé em você.

Ó mestre, permitais que eu pode
Tanto ser consolado como consolar
Deve ser entendido como para compreender
Ser amado quanto amar com toda a minha alma.

Faça-me um canal de sua paz
Onde houver desespero na vida que me trazer esperança,
Onde há escuridão luz só
E onde houver tristeza alguma alegria.

Ó mestre, permitais que eu pode
Tanto ser consolado como consolar
Deve ser entendido como para compreender
Ser amado quanto amar com toda a minha alma.

Faça-me um canal de sua paz
É perdoando que se é perdoado
Em dar a todos os homens que recebemos
E em morrendo que se nasce para a vida eterna.
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Myra Lee Ferreira

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