Ai, que saudades daqueles dias brancos e frios! Eu era tão pequena e frágil; a chuva lá fora resguardava-me junto ao cálido leito, onde, enroscando-me por entre lençóis e cobertas, à meia-luz, devorava torradas e gibis, ao abrigo das intempéries de um mundo hostil.

De quando em quando, voltava o olhar para a janela, persiana aberta e vidros cerrados, de onde degustava um muro branco, quase brilhante, claro como a chuva e a neve. Sempre chovia e nevava no muro de meus sonhos.

Era mais um daqueles dias preciosos, nos quais, fingindo-me enferma, mantinha-me à distância da escola, palco de sofrimentos indizíveis, dores que o meu coração de criança não podia suportar. Havia dois mundos opostos e inconciliáveis, cujas fronteiras definiam-se a partir da soleira da porta de minha casa. Era preciso não misturá-los: não macular o meu mágico universo familiar com os horrores que conhecera lá fora.

Agarro-me fortemente aos lençóis, sinto o calor e aconchego de minha cama de doente, único canto onde me sinto protegida, livre para sobrevoar os arco-íris de um universo fantástico, livre para tudo querer e para tudo poder ser, levitando entre estrelas e planetas, contemplando, do infinito azul, a pequenez da Terra e seus habitantes. Talvez até chova em algum recanto. Mas aqui, nenhuma chuva cai.

Vera de Azevedo Rodrigues, S/D

Oh! How I miss those white and cold days! I was so small and fragile, the rain outside kept me indoors, warm and covered with sheets and blankets, where, in a semidarkness, I devoured toasts and comic books under the shelter away from the adversities of a hostile world.

From time to time, I would glance the window with the opened blind and closed glasses, from where I used to appreciated a white wall with a diamond’s brightness , clear as the rain and the snow. It used to rain and snow in the wall of my dream!

It was one of those precious days, in which pretending I was ill, I would keep myself away from school, a place of uncountable sufferings, pains that my child?s heart and soul could not tolerate. There were two different and opposed worlds that could never fit together, whose borderline was delineated at my step door. How important and necessary was to maintain these different worlds apart and well distinguished from each other without spoiling my magic and familiar universe with the horrors of outside!

I hold on strongly to my sheets, feeling the heat and comfort of my bed, the only place where I feel secure and safe, and at the same time, I feel free to fly over the rainbow of a fantastic universe, free to wish everything, to do everything and most of all, to really be whatever I want to be. Levitating among stars and planets, just gazing upon from the infinite blue how small the Earth and its habitants are. Maybe it rains in some place else, but here not a drop has fallen?

Vera de Azevedo Rodrigues (translation by Patrícia Couto Abrantes, a great friend and English teacher)

Busted flat in baton rouge, waiting for a train
And i?s feeling nearly as faded as my jeans.
Bobby thumbed a diesel down just before it rained,
It rode us all the way to new orleans.

I pulled my harpoon out of my dirty red bandanna,
I was playing soft while bobby sang the blues.
Windshield wipers slapping time, I was holding bobby?s hand in mine,
We sang every song that driver knew.

Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose,
Nothing don?t mean nothing honey if it ain?t free, now now.
And feeling good was easy, lord, when he sang the blues,
You know feeling good was good enough for me,
Good enough for me and my bobby mcgee.

From the kentucky coal mines to the california sun,
Hey, bobby shared the secrets of my soul.
Through all kinds of weather, through everything that we done,
Hey bobby baby kept me from the cold.

One day up near salinas, lord, I let him slip away,
He?s looking for that home and I hope he finds it,
But I?d trade all of my tomorrows for one single yesterday
To be holding bobby?s body next to mine.

Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose,
Nothing, that?s all that bobby left me, yeah,
But feeling good was easy, lord, when he sang the blues,
Hey, feeling good was good enough for me, hmm hmm,
Good enough for me and my bobby mcgee.

La la la, la la la la, la la la, la la la la
La la la la la bobby mcgee.
La la la la la, la la la la la
La la la la la, bobby mcgee, la.

La la la, la la la la la la,
La la la la la la la la la, hey now bobby now bobby mcgee yeah.
Na na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na na na na na
Hey now bobby now, bobby mcgee, yeah.

Lord, I?m calling my lover, calling my man,
I said I?m calling my lover just the best I can,
C?mon, where is bobby now, where is bobby mcgee, yeah,
Lordy lordy lordy lordy lordy lordy lordy lord
Hey, hey, hey, bobby mcgee, lord!

Yeah! whew!

Lordy lordy lordy lordy lordy lordy lordy lord
Hey, hey, hey, bobby mcgee.

I?d like to do a song of great social and political import.
It goes like this: