Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Fiama Hasse Pais Brandão

Song of the Franciscan Canticles

The Franciscan song has already sung
the brotherhood between me and chaos,
for its singing of ordered harmony
preceded my song in which Nature
is the child of disorder and diversity.
I worshiped the God of lambs and fields,
of flower-lined paths, of the teeming sea,
and where there were signs of accord
and the presence of the four seasons
ruled by the melodious spheres,
I saw the echoes of the various radiations.
My ear hears in the Universe
the galaxies’ broken phrases.
The whispers from thickets of wild
roses used to rise up to Him,
while on the earth’s paths
his way sang in Everything.
Here I sing the loss of the spirit
of St. Francis praising the full day
and the gain of daily uncertainty
and the anguish that soothes us
as if we didn’t even deserve to keep
the Letter according to the spirit.

And the wagtails sing and nest
along the trodden roads of old
where once they saw the troubadour
travel and sing in Time
although it seemed like Space.
I imitate the verses in praise of place,
for I know that space is unknown
and time has the measure of life.
It was in time that the three kingdoms
of living Nature reached me,
and the stone sings its stony sound
when it cracks and rolls and shatters.

Canto dos Cânticos Franciscanos

Canto dos Cânticos Franciscanos

O franciscano canto já cantou
a irmandade entre mim e o caos,
pois cantando a ordenada harmonia
antecedeu meu canto em que a Natureza
é filha da desordem e do diverso.
Adorei o Deus dos cordeiros e campos,
dos carreiros floridos, do mar farto,
e onde estavam os traços da concórdia
e o haver das quatro estações,
regidas pelas esferas melodiosas,
eu vi os ecos das várias radiações.
O meu ouvido escuta no Universo
as frases entrecortadas das galáxias.
Outrora até Ele vinham os sussurros
dos silvedos das rosas singelas,
enquanto pelas veredas da terra
cantava o seu caminho pelo Todo.
Eu canto aqui a perda do espírito
de Francisco no louvor do dia pleno
e o ganho da incerteza diária
e da angústia que nos aquieta
como se nem tivéssemos merecido
conservar a Letra segundo o espírito

E as arvéolas cantam e nidificam
nos antigos percorridos caminhos
quando viram passar o trovador
a andar e a cantar no Tempo
embora parecesse o Espaço.
Imito os versos que louvam o lugar,
porque sei que o espaço é ignoto
e o tempo tem a medida da vida.
Foi no tempo que chegaram até mim
os três reinos da Natureza viva,
e a pedra canta o seu som de pedra
quando estala e rola e quebra.
Close

Song of the Franciscan Canticles

The Franciscan song has already sung
the brotherhood between me and chaos,
for its singing of ordered harmony
preceded my song in which Nature
is the child of disorder and diversity.
I worshiped the God of lambs and fields,
of flower-lined paths, of the teeming sea,
and where there were signs of accord
and the presence of the four seasons
ruled by the melodious spheres,
I saw the echoes of the various radiations.
My ear hears in the Universe
the galaxies’ broken phrases.
The whispers from thickets of wild
roses used to rise up to Him,
while on the earth’s paths
his way sang in Everything.
Here I sing the loss of the spirit
of St. Francis praising the full day
and the gain of daily uncertainty
and the anguish that soothes us
as if we didn’t even deserve to keep
the Letter according to the spirit.

And the wagtails sing and nest
along the trodden roads of old
where once they saw the troubadour
travel and sing in Time
although it seemed like Space.
I imitate the verses in praise of place,
for I know that space is unknown
and time has the measure of life.
It was in time that the three kingdoms
of living Nature reached me,
and the stone sings its stony sound
when it cracks and rolls and shatters.

Song of the Franciscan Canticles

The Franciscan song has already sung
the brotherhood between me and chaos,
for its singing of ordered harmony
preceded my song in which Nature
is the child of disorder and diversity.
I worshiped the God of lambs and fields,
of flower-lined paths, of the teeming sea,
and where there were signs of accord
and the presence of the four seasons
ruled by the melodious spheres,
I saw the echoes of the various radiations.
My ear hears in the Universe
the galaxies’ broken phrases.
The whispers from thickets of wild
roses used to rise up to Him,
while on the earth’s paths
his way sang in Everything.
Here I sing the loss of the spirit
of St. Francis praising the full day
and the gain of daily uncertainty
and the anguish that soothes us
as if we didn’t even deserve to keep
the Letter according to the spirit.

And the wagtails sing and nest
along the trodden roads of old
where once they saw the troubadour
travel and sing in Time
although it seemed like Space.
I imitate the verses in praise of place,
for I know that space is unknown
and time has the measure of life.
It was in time that the three kingdoms
of living Nature reached me,
and the stone sings its stony sound
when it cracks and rolls and shatters.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère