Of the Skepticism to the Ordinary 1 Let us see how much the man can when early he arises yourself, the reason leaves in house for which the life, the least for the moment, justifies the woman whom if it loves and the son just. When he returns, receives from usual silence the acknowledgment from sleep. It sits down the table to be able more: the perpetual miracle of that one exactly I cry. Pale it is the instant where already more if it cannot hear and to see I still risk one to feel. one more time is refused has lain to imagine it the scene, for whose reason still it is wanted to live. Let us see the power of the fancy 2. The barren look for on the blank paper. the message that if it not more writes before the eyes already happens of a persistence of the hands, that, static, announce the hallucination of the schopenhauriano verb: Intua the woman in-itself, and wants only in-itself of the son.
Only real perception of that the man can enjoy without pain 3. Perhaps as that of intuition it was only the spirit of the common man made use to perfazer itself, in the photograph of 4 the proper face if denies there and if it rejects and if lies to messianic way of affirmation of that where already more 5 is not believed. Still more that long ago, doravante, wants, this man, in the cradle the simple mantle of that false certainty that heats it 6; more will love your son, who, coming from the sin 7 and of 8 the aflita will, is purer and beautiful that cursed ataraxia 9 divine 10 with that if perfaz the seventh day of this exactly silence for on the forms of the perception fugaz.
Identical spectacle. People of the zone north working in the south zone; of the south zone working in the zone north; some hurried the step to arrive more early in house; others that they came of house were hurried to assume its ranks of nocturnal work. The theater was the same, changed the figurantes. In the end of the year the bells emitted sharpened sounds, more audible more, gladder. The explanation of this repicar different made to understand me that the time was divided in years and that the years had end, although the life followed its rhythm regularly; the caudalosas waters of the Great River slid with the same slowness; the days amanheciam and grew dark invariably. Everything this seemed a natural disobedience to the convencionalismos. But repicar of the bells was different.
Until we danced to the rhythm of the strokes of a bell. Things of child! Also it had changes in the dynamics of my family. My father was more thoughtful, hurried itself to deliver the orders of coarse doors that produced under a great hose where to noitinha and to the dawn some birds entoavam cantos strident. My mother turned nights in the old machine sewing to give account of the orders: dresses of chita, that the young women took a walk in the Party of Christmas, grasped in arms ones of the others with encangados crabs. Short time them my parents to take care of to the commitments of year end. Time used to advantage well by us, the children. To jump of the abrupt declivities in hot waters of the river; to hunt nests of passarinhos; to set traps and munds and several other traquinagens Candy recklessness! After all, it was Native! Next to the party my mother opened an immense trunk with kept clothes has years for reaproveitamento. The minimum was bought.