Fathers Poets Column
Father Poet - Encounters
Part I
Today I will tell you, my friends, I had an encounter some time ago, not too far, with two English friends. I was passing through the land of Dickens ...
England Winter of 1816
It's raining outside. London is darker than usual.
I walk on the wet streets and I see little passing carriages. Few dared to go out under this storm. I have not much to look at. My eyes cannot see 5 meters ahead on the street.
I catch one of the few coaches that pass by. The driver seems to grunt when I get in soaked.
I proceed to Hampstead Heath. I specify to him that I want to stop in front of Spaniard's Inn (Pub or the Spaniards, do not ask me why). I stop . I enter. The door creaks as if I was about to bring it down. The conversation in the tavern stops for a moment. They look at me. Examine my figure. I go to last table where two men are sitting sullen under the heat of a table lit with candles. I stand before them. The elder smiles and hits the first one.
Byron: You came!
Father Poet: Of course I did. I would not miss my friends.
Keats: Why did you take so long? We already drunk more than we should without you (Keats, always introverted).
Father Poet: Come on , Keats, do not exaggerate. We have plenty of time, after all we are immortal.
Laughter.
Keats:
The three are gone and I only wanted wings;
Madness! What is love? Who knows where it lives?
As to ambition – it’s negligible because it came from a small heart, the one-hour fever;
The Poetry! – it does not give one sole joy, -
At least for me , - during the day immersed in his schism; at night in the opium of his immense boredom
I wish I could have an era free of agony,
Without ever knowing the changing of moons
Nor never hear the painful voice of common sense!
(Keats ‘’Selected Letters of Jonh Keats'')
Father Poet: Good, very good, but what about you, Byron?
Byron: Aham.
I did not Love the world, neither did it love me–
Good enemies, let us go without rancor.
I did not find them, but I they exist,
Words that are things, I saw the color
Of Hoe and I even supposed
Virtues without perjury or falsehood;
In the weepings of the others I see pain
In two or three, and I think, truly,
That good may exist as well as happiness.
(Byron ‘’Child Harold Excerpts'')
Applause.
Keats: and you, poet, don’t you have anything to offer us?
Pai Poeta: Of course I do. I humbly ask to create among so honorable poets (I smile).
Laughter.
Father Poet:
Friendship is what is left to me, because the rest went away;
A so smooth feeling in the agora of my life
The blood flowing thru my veins,
Tastes tears
Love is gone, it was taken away
Be the book of life opened,
Be the pages turned.
(Father Poet ‘'Encounters”)
End of Part I
The Spaniard's Inn in London – Yes, my friends, it does exist.
Part 2
Applause. Applause from renowned poets, but more than that, my friends. I fell myself part of something.
Father Poet: You are too modest to praise me.
Byron: Here we go, Keats.... Laughter
Keats: If you have already suffered, even with the rain, it is part of our brotherhood. We are men who feel, who vibrate and shatter
Byron: In exchange for a veiled immortality you give everything that has most sacred to you: love, pride, money, passion, dream.
At this point Keats laughs. His head leans back. I look at Byron who returns the scrutinizing gaze.
Keats: Gentlemen, I propose a toast for so generous words!
Silence.
Keats: Are you really letting a man drink alone?
Father Poet: A toast!
Byron: Yes! A toast!
Keats: Let us drink to the night, to beautiful women, to travel and most importantly, to friends. Thanks friend, for coming
He places his arm on my shoulder.
Keats: We have had tough years before you arrive. No place for words or beauty. Without music.
Byron looks at the floor: Canyons and sorrow, Canyons and sorrow.
Father Poet: But I do Believe that everything will be better from now on.
Keats / Byron: How can you be so sure??!
Father Poet: Friendship and Love Will always prevail, my friend.
I get up. I leave coins on the table. I open the door. I leave the tavern. It is now full, I am no longer notice in the place. The rain is still strong and I put my hood. For a moment I stop and feel that two incredulous eyes are still on me, as if trying to understand why I am so optimistic. If I told you now my dear reader, you would never find out where I have been and what I have learned. Or rather, you would do not believe
I think you Will have to travel with me... I smile and get into the rain.
End
