My Soul Has A Hat

A beautiful poem by Mario de Andrade (San Paolo 1893-1945)

Poet, novelist, essayist and musicologist.

One of the founders of Brazilian modernism.

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MY SOUL HAS A HAT

I counted my years

& realized that I have

Less time to live by,

Than I have lived so far.

I feel like a child who won a pack of candies: at first he ate them with pleasure

But when he realized that there was little left, he began to taste them intensely.

I have no time for endless meetings

where the statutes, rules, procedures & internal regulations are discussed,

knowing that nothing will be done.

I no longer have the patience

To stand absurd people who,

despite their chronological age,

have not grown up.

My time is too short:

I want the essence,

my spirit is in a hurry.

I do not have much candy

In the package anymore.

I want to live next to humans,

very realistic people who know

How to laugh at their mistakes,

Who are not inflated by their own triumphs

& who take responsibility for their actions.

In this way, human dignity is defended

and we live in truth and honesty.

It is the essentials that make life useful.

I want to surround myself with people

who know how to touch the hearts of those whom hard strokes of life

have learned to grow with sweet touches of the soul.

Yes, I’m in a hurry.

I’m in a hurry to live with the intensity that only maturity can give.

I do not intend to waste any of the remaining desserts.

I am sure they will be exquisite,

much more than those eaten so far.

My goal is to reach the end satisfied

and at peace with my loved ones and my conscience.

We have two lives

& the second begins when you realize you only one

Keep thinking of this poem

INVICTUS

Out of the night that covers me,

      Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

      For my unconquerable soul.

 

In the fell clutch of circumstance

      I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

      My head is bloody, but unbowed.

 

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

      Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

      Finds and shall find me unafraid.

 

It matters not how strait the gate,

      How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate,

      I am the captain of my soul.

BY WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY