Canções

by Mario Quintana

Lançado em 1946, "Canções" é o segundo livro de Mário Quintana.

Genres: Poetry, Ebooks

176 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1986

About the author

I was born in Alegrete, on the 30th of July 1906. I believe that was the first thing that happened to me. And now they have asked me to speak of myself. Well! I always thought that every confession that wasn’t altered by art is indecent. My life is in my poems, my poems are myself, never have I written a comma that wasn’t a confession. Ah! but what they want are details, rawness, gossip...Here we go! I am 78 years old, but without age. Of ages, there are only two: either you are alive or dead. In the latter case, it is too old, because what was promised to us was eternity. I was born in the rigor of the winter, temperature: 1 degree °C; and still I was premature, which would leave me kind of complexed because I used to think I wasn’t ready. One day I discovered that someone as complete as Winston Churchill was born premature - the same thing happened to Sir Issac Newton! Excusez du peu... I prefer to cite the opinion of others about me. They say I am modest. On the contrary, I am so proud that I think I never reached the height of my writing. Because poetry is insatisfaction, an affliction of self-elevation. A satisfied poet doesn’t satisfy. They say I am timid. Nothing of the sort! I am very quiet, introspective. I don’t know why they subject the introverts to treatment. Only for not being as annoying at the rest?

It is exactly for detesting annoyingness, the lengthiness, that I love synthesis. Another element of poetry is the search for the form (not of the form), the dosage of words. Perhaps what contributes to my safety is the fact that I have been a practitioner of pharmacy for five years. Note that the same happened with Carlos Drummond de Andrade, Alberto de Oliveira, Erico Verissimo - they well know (or knew) what a loving fight with words means.

Reviews

[Flávio · Rating 4 out of 5]

Quintana faz bem à alma.

[Natalia Diniz · Rating 5 out of 5]

Parece simples, mas é difícil, mas é para ser simples. Assim como a vida. A gente que complica. Que eu saiba andar pelo corredor escuro sem me preocupar tanto com o cotovelo. Que eu sente em cima da minha mala e aprenda a me deixar levar pois a alvorada vem. E que de vez em quando eu aja mais como um cágado querendo só um pouquinho de sol.