Oblique rain

A friend from Portugal has sent us this photo of a group of «indignados» from the Praça do Rossio in Lisbon. Suddenly a late spring rain forced them to find shelter under the large canvas banner they were displaying. Since they were not so many, all could be accommodated. The rain did not get them off the square, neither cooled it the fervor of the manifestation. As a counterpart of this image of toughness, our friend also sends us the following grafito, more fitting to the proverbial Portuguese fatalism.

“I think, but I do not exist”

Ilumina-se a igreja por dentro da chuva deste dia,
E cada vela que se acende é mais chuva a bater na vidraça…

Alegra-me ouvir a chuva porque ela é o templo estar aceso,
E as vidraças da igreja vistas de fora são o som da chuva ouvido por dentro…

O esplendor do altar-mor é o eu não poder quase ver os montes
Através da chuva que é ouro tão solene na toalha do altar…
Soa o canto do coro, latino e vento a sacudir-me a vidraça
E sente-se chiar a água no fato de haver coro…

A missa é um automóvel que passa
Através dos fiéis que se ajoelham em hoje ser um dia triste…
Súbito vento sacode em esplendor maior
A festa da catedral e o ruído da chuva absorve tudo
Até só se ouvir a voz do padre água perder-se ao longe
Com o som de rodas de automóvel…

E apagam-se as luzes da igreja
Na chuva que cessa…

The church is illuminated from within the rain of this day,
And each candle that is lit is more rain beating on the window pane…

I am joyous to hear the rain because it is the temple being lit,
And the glass panes of the church seen from outside are the sound of the rain heard from inside…

The splendour of the high altar is my not being able to almost see the hills
Through the rain that is the oh so solemn gold on the altar cloth…

The singing of the choir sounds forth, latin and wind shaking the pane at me
And one can feel the water pitter-pattering in the fact that there is a choir…

The mass is a car that passes
Through the congregation kneeling in today being a sad day…
A sudden wind buffets in greater splendour
The festival of the cathedral and the noise of the rain absorbs everything
Until all that can be heard is the voice of the padre water disappearing in the distance
With the sound of car wheels…

And the lights of the church are doused
In the rain that stops…

Fernando Pessoa, Chuva oblíqua (Oblique rain) (2nd strophe)