Aron Wiesenfeld - Transfer, 2026

 

      "A woman and a young girl stand in the grass, illuminated by a bright, sharp beam of light that appears to come from the left (as if they are standing in the headlights of a stationary car). This creates a cinematic tension. Their expressions are serene yet averted, evoking a sense of anticipation or uncertainty.

       Beside them stands a black dog, gazing alertly into the distance. In art, a dog often symbolizes loyalty or protection, but here, its dark silhouette also contributes to the enigmatic and somewhat ominous nature of the scene.

      The landscape is shrouded in deep blue twilight or mist. On the horizon, an industrial facility or factory is visible, complete with lights and a smokestack.

      This contrast between the vulnerable human figures near the tree and the distant, cold industry highlights themes of isolation and the transition between nature and urbanization. The title The title suggests a moment of transition or passage. The bags they are carrying and their position by the roadside indicate that they are on a journey, waiting for a moment of departure or change. Wiesenfeld deliberately avoids presenting a definitive narrative, thereby inviting the viewer to fill in the details and the emotional resonance of this "silent film scene" for themselves." 

                   in, Facebook

dir. Ryutaro Nakagawa - Summer Blooms, 2017

        Kasumi, a calligraphy teacher and aspiring writer, has been grieving the loss of her fiancé for three years. Unable to move forward, she finds her routine disrupted by the arrival of a package containing a box of chocolates and a cryptic note. Her journey through grief becomes a search for meaning in the everyday, exploring how the past shapes – and sometimes hinders – the present.

José Jiménez Lozano - Homero

 

Se aí viesse Homero

ao teu jardim, o que farias tu?

Onde é que guardas o mel, as tâmaras,

o leite, um pedaço de porco?

Achas que ele te falaria das Plêiades,

ou que poderias dar-lhe os teus poemas a ler?

Oh, pai Homero, senta-te e escuta!

Diz-me se Ulisses, se Penélope,

se a lua vermelha de Setembro,

se o vento ou orvalho, se as vides

ou a espuma do mar,

se a rima ou a lua, se a morte

estão bem postas em meus versos,

apenas isso.

Tradução de A.M.

Original:

Si ahora llegase Homero

a tu jardín ¿qué harías?

¿Dónde guardas los dátiles, la miel,

la leche o un trozo de puerco?

¿Crees que hablaría contigo de las Pléyades

y podrías darle a leer tus poemas?

¡Oh, padre Homero, siéntate y escucha!

Dime si Ulyses, si Penélope, si la luna roja

de setiembre, si la escarcha o el viento

cierzo, si las vides o la marina espuma,

si la rima o la luna, si la muerte

están bien situadas en mis versos,

sólo esto.  

      O poema convoca a figura do poeta grego como símbolo da memória, da tradição e da permanência da palavra. Homero representa a capacidade de transformar experiências humanas em narrativa, preservando histórias, emoções e valores através dos séculos. A sua presença sugere uma reflexão sobre a origem da poesia e o poder da linguagem para vencer o esquecimento. 

Eanáir - The Old Man From Over The Sea

There was an old man came over the sea

Aye, but I'll not have him

There was an old man came over the sea

Came snivelling, snuffling, over on me

With his long grey beard, with his long grey beard

A‐shivering and shaking.

My mother she told me to bid him come in

Aye, but I'll not have him

My mother she told me to bid him come in

And he giggled and dribbled all over his chin

With his long grey beard, with his long grey beard

A‐shivering and shaking.

My mother she told me to give him a stool

Aye, but I'll not have him

My mother she told me to give him a stool

Well, I gave him a stool, and he sat like a fool

With his long grey beard, with his long grey beard

A‐shivering and shaking.

My mother she told me to give him some cake

Aye, but I'll not have him

My mother she told me to give him some cake

And the silly old fool wriggled just like a snake

With his long grey beard, with his long grey beard

A‐shivering and shaking.

My mother she told me to pass him the sugar

Aye, but I'll not have him

My mother she told me to pass him the sugar

And he shrivelled and shovelled it down like a bugger

With his long grey beard, with his long grey beard

A‐shivering and shaking.

My mother she told me to take him to bed

Aye, but I'll not have him

My mother she told me to take him to bed

And the daft old devil nigh stood on his head

With his long grey beard, with his long grey beard

A‐shivering and shaking.

My mother told me to show him what to do

Aye, but I'll not have him

My mother told me to show him what to do

But the silly old cod couldn’t learn how to screw

With his long grey beard, with his long grey beard

A‐shivering and shaking.

My mother she told me to bid him farewell

Aye, but I'll not have him

My mother she told me to bid him farewell

Well, I bid him farewell and I wished him in Hell

With his long grey beard, with his long grey beard

A‐shivering and shaking.

There was an old man came over the sea

Aye, but I'll not have him

There was an old man came over the sea

Came snivelling, snuffling, over on me

With his long grey beard, with his long grey beard

A‐shivering and shaking.

      The song evokes themes of memory, distance, and the enduring marks left by migration. Its title suggests a figure shaped by journeys, separation, and experiences carried across generations. The song’s atmosphere feels reflective, inviting listeners to consider belonging, identity, and the passage of time. The old man becomes a symbol of history, resilience, and the emotional weight of distant shores.

Gunnar Widforss, Swedish-American painter (1879-1934) - Catalina Island, 1921

      Gunnar Widforss’s Catalina Island (1921) captures the dramatic beauty of the Californian coast through luminous colours and meticulous detail. Rugged cliffs descend towards the deep blue Pacific, while vegetation softens the rocky landscape. Widforss’s precise brushwork and atmospheric sensitivity create a harmonious balance between geological grandeur and natural serenity. Sunlight illuminates the terrain, suggesting the clarity of the island’s Mediterranean-like climate.

José Jiménez Lozano - Árvore seca / Arbol seco

 

Dez anos esperou que a seca árvore

florisse de novo. Dez anos

de machada afiada e trémula,

mas a árvore

mostrava só os braços nus,

o poleiro da pega e dos corvos.

Cortou-a por fim, e de repente,

viu-lhe o coração verde, a borbotar de seiva;

um ano mais, e floria.

  Tradução de A.M.

  Original:

Diez años esperó que el árbol seco

floreciera de nuevo. Diez años

con el hacha aguzada y temblorosa,

pero el árbol

sólo exhibía sus desnudos brazos,

la percha de la urraca y de los cuervos.

Cortóle al fin, y, de repente,

vio su corazón verde, borbotón de savia;

un año más, y hubiera florecido.

      O poema convida à reflexão sobre a passagem do tempo, a fragilidade da existência e a memória. A árvore, desprovida de vida aparente, pode simbolizar a solidão, a perda e o silêncio, mas também a resistência perante a adversidade. A sua presença na paisagem sugere uma beleza austera, distante do esplendor natural. A linguagem contida e meditativa valoriza o pormenor e transforma a imagem da árvore numa metáfora da condição humana, entre a permanência, a finitude e a esperança.

Ensemble Parlamento - Je vivroie liement (Guillaume de Machaut)

Je vivroie liement douce creature

Se vous saviés vraiement

Qu'en vous fust parfaitement ma cure

Dame de meintieng joli plaisant, nette et pure

Souvent me fait dire 'ai mi'

Li maus que j'endure

Pur vous servir loyaument et soié seure

Que je ne puis nullement

Vivre einsi se longuement me dure

Car vous m'estes sans mercy et sans pité dure

et s'avés le cuer de mi

Mis en tel ardure

Qu'il morra certeinnement de mort trop obscure

Se pour son aligement

Merci n'est procheinnement meure

      Merci beaucoup! Guillaume de Machaut, chanoine de la Cathédrale de Reims, mort en 1377, qui composa l'un des sommets de l'Ars Nova, la Messe Nostre Dame, une merveille.

Jan Brueghel der Ältere: Großer Fischmarkt (Great Fishmarket), 1603

      This painting presents a lively marketplace filled with bustling activity, merchants, customers, and an abundance of fish. The painting demonstrates Brueghel’s remarkable attention to detail, capturing the textures, colours, and movements of everyday commercial life. Figures gather around market stalls, creating a dynamic sense of community and trade. Architectural elements and distant scenery provide depth, while the carefully arranged composition balances numerous individual scenes. Through its rich visual narrative, the work offers an engaging portrayal of seventeenth-century Flemish society, combining realism, observation, and artistic refinement.

Sophia de Mello Breyner Andresen - Eis-me

 

Eis-me

Tendo-me despido de todos os meus mantos

Tendo-me separado de adivinhos mágicos e deuses

Para ficar sozinha ante o silêncio

Ante o silêncio e o esplendor da tua face

Mas tu és de todos os ausentes o ausente

Nem o teu ombro me apoia nem a tua mão me toca

O meu coração desce as escadas do tempo em que não moras

E o teu encontro

São planícies e planícies de silêncio

Escura é a noite

Escura e transparente

Mas o teu rosto está para além do tempo opaco

E eu não habito os jardins do teu silêncio

Porque tu és de todos os ausentes o ausente

  in, "Livro Sexto"

      A voz do poema apresenta-se numa atitude de disponibilidade, presença e procura de verdade. O título, breve e afirmativo, traduz uma declaração de existência e entrega perante o mundo. A poesia surge como forma de encontro, revelando a tensão entre a fragilidade humana e o desejo de plenitude, justiça e harmonia com o universo.

Emily Bronte - My Comforter

 

Well hast thou spoken, and yet, not taught

A feeling strange or new;

Thou hast but roused a latent thought,

A cloud-closed beam of sunshine, brought

To gleam in open view.

Deep down, concealed within my soul,

That light lies hid from men;

Yet, glows unquenched - though shadows roll,

Its gentle ray cannot control,

About the sullen den.

Was I not vexed, in these gloomy ways

To walk alone so long?

Around me, wretches uttering praise,

Or howling o'er their hopeless days,

And each with Frenzy's tongue; -

A brotherhood of misery,

Their smiles as sad as sighs;

Whose madness daily maddened me,

Distorting into agony

The bliss before my eyes!

So stood I, in Heaven's glorious sun,

And in the glare of Hell;

My spirit drank a mingled tone,

Of seraph's song, and demon's moan;

What my soul bore, my soul alone

Within itself may tell!

Like a soft air, above a sea,

Tossed by the tempest's stir;

A thaw-wind, melting quietly

The snow-drift, on some wintry lea;

No: what sweet thing resembles thee,

My thoughtful Comforter?

And yet a little longer speak,

Calm this resentful mood;

And while the savage heart grows meek,

For other token do not seek,

But let the tear upon my cheek

Evince my gratitude!

      Emily Brontë’s 1844 poem "My Comforter" explores isolation, the agony of human society, and the inner sanctuary of the creative imagination acting as a guiding voice. The speaker feels deeply isolated from ordinary people, describing humanity as a "brotherhood of misery" whose noisy faith and daily despair drive her into a state of mental torment. The AI melody is silent and hidden in beauty.

Hélène Schjerfbeck (Finnish 1862–1946) - The Convalescent, 1888

      The painting portrays a young girl recovering from illness, seated quietly in a sunlit interior. Her delicate figure, pale complexion and thoughtful expression convey vulnerability, while the blooming plant beside her suggests renewal and hope. Natural light enters through the window, illuminating the room and creating a peaceful atmosphere. Schjerfbeck combines realistic observation with subtle emotional depth, capturing the fragile transition between sickness and health.

Belén Reyes - E o que é que acontece / Y qué sucede

 

E o que é que acontece

se de repente um dia

te dás conta que é tudo mentira,

e não sabes se fazer de louca

de puta

ou suicida,

ou arrancar a alma

sentar-te

e já

meio apalermada,

ver como a vida acontece

Você aí que faria?

  Tradução de A.M.

  Original:

Y qué sucede

si de pronto un día

te das cuenta de que todo es mentira,

y no sabes si meterte a loca

a puta

o a suicida,

o arrancarte el alma

y sentarte en una silla

y ya

medio gilipollas,

ver cómo pasa la vida

¿Usted qué haría?

      O poema apresenta uma visão mais intensa e desconcertante do que uma análise inicial sugeriria. A sua reflexão parte da descoberta de que tudo pode ser mentira, conduzindo a uma crise de sentido e a uma atitude de desorientação perante a vida. A linguagem direta, irreverente e provocadora combina desespero, ironia e absurdo. A pergunta final, dirigida ao leitor, transforma a experiência individual numa interrogação universal sobre como reagir à desilusão, à perda de certezas e à dificuldade de encontrar sentido na existência.

Laura Malétas - Finca hostal Paz del Indio

      Esta melodia é uma homenagem a um lugar, Finca La Paz del Indio, situada na Vereda La Paz, em Villagarzón, Putumayo, Colômbia, bem como a todo o povo colombiano. Ela tem um ritmo e uma melodia que nos faz sentir bem.

Extraño su bosque salvage,

Extraño su calorcito, su murmullo, sus caminos,

Quiero volver a perderme dentro, corazón alegre, manchete en la mano,

Quiero recoger tesoros, granadilla, iraca para algun techito,

Correr bajo la lluvia para llegar a casa antes que el río crezca,

Brindar mojaditos con tinto panela, tortita casera, consejos de vida.

Extraño su selva sagrada

Estraño su luz oscura, las alturas del guada

Quiero volver a acunar mis sueños en la hamaca, en la sombra del kiosko

Quiero amanecer con el gallo, su canto bendecirlo como solo horario

Mirar al Dieguito hervir con esmero chontaduros a fuego lento

Abrazar los aromas, sal, miel y paciencia, amigos y presente, regalos de vida.

Cantar esos versitos a La Paz del Indio

su calma, sus colores, secretos de vida.

Ernst Henseler - Familiengebet (Family Prayers), 1909

      It portrays an intimate moment of domestic devotion, capturing a family united in quiet prayer. The painting reflects the importance of religious faith and familial bonds in early twentieth-century life. Henseler’s careful composition emphasises the figures’ concentration, while the subdued interior creates an atmosphere of warmth, humility, and solemnity. Soft lighting and naturalistic details reinforce the scene’s emotional sincerity.

José Luís Peixoto - E o amor transformou-se

 

E o amor transformou-se noutra coisa com o mesmo nome.

Era disto que falavam as mães quando davam conselhos

ás filhas e diziam: o amor vem depois. Era isto o depois.

Uma ternura simples, quase dolorosa, muitos silêncios,

todas as horas do dia e um poema que se dissolve dentro

de mim e que, devagar, sem rosto, desaparece.

      O poema aborda a transformação do amor, que, sem desaparecer completamente, adquire uma natureza diferente e inesperada. A expressão «outra coisa com o mesmo nome» traduz a distância entre o amor idealizado e a realidade vivida. Os conselhos maternos, associados à ideia de que «o amor vem depois», ganham um significado melancólico, revelando a descoberta de uma ternura silenciosa, quase dolorosa. A pintura é de Henri Martin, The Lovers.

Johann Hermann Kretzschmer - The Broken Kite

 

      The Broken Kite painting portrays a tender rural scene in which a child’s disappointment over a broken kite is met with the care and attention of those around him. Through this simple moment, Johann Kretzschmer captures the innocence of childhood and the warmth of family life.

Antonio Hernández - O passado é a marca / El pasado es la constancia

 

O passado é a marca

do nosso assombro,

o vazio de amor que a experiência

nos deixa dentro do peito.

(Só a infância não tem memória

porque nada brilhou antes dela)

Meu passado é o saldo do nítido,

um aroma, um amor, uma lua

sem cuidado,

o velho enigma em que hei-de amanhecer.

  Tradução de A.M.

  Original:

El pasado es la constancia

de nuestro asombro,

el hueco de amor que deja

la experiencia en nuestro pecho.

(Sólo la infancia no tiene memoria

porque nada brilló antes que ella.)

Mi pasado es el saldo de lo nítido:

un aroma, un amor, una luna

sin cautela,

el viejo enigma en que amaneceré.

      No poema, o passado surge como um testemunho persistente da experiência humana, deixando sinais que o tempo não consegue apagar. A memória assume um papel central, ligando o presente a acontecimentos, sentimentos e aprendizagens anteriores. O título sugere que a identidade se constrói através das marcas deixadas pela vida.