Escolar Documentos
Profissional Documentos
Cultura Documentos
Sanni Metelerkamp
Tradução:
Gabriel Naldi
Instituto Mojo de Comunicação Intercultural
Ficha técnica:
Ricardo Giassetti, diretor geral
Bruno Girello, diretor executivo
Thiago Duarte, diretor financeiro
Tatiana Bornato, secretária
Conselho fiscal:
Tatiana Bornato e Thiago Fogaça
Equipe editorial
Ricardo Giassetti, Renato Roschel, Gabriel Naldi, Camille Pezzino, Amanda
Zampieri, Fernando Ribeiro
Conselho consultivo
Abel Reis, Áurea Vieira, Ana Maria Haddad Baptista, Luiz Fuganti, Rodrigo
Faria e Silva
Capa:
Edward Robert Hughes (1912)
Edição, tradução e arte ©Instituto Mojo de Comunicação Intercultural.
Todos os direitos reservados.
Siga: @institutomojo
Visite: www.mojo.org.br
AS ESTRELAS E A ESTRADA DO CÉU
G
ris e infinito, o céu escuro cobria o grande Karoo como uma
marquise de veludo, um misterioso pano de fundo para uma miríade
de estrelas que brilhavam sobre a terra fria.
Os três meninos, apertados contra a janela, apontavam as constelações que
a prima Minnie havia lhes ensinado e perdiam-se em debates sobre o número
e a constituição das estrelas da Via Láctea. Então tio Karel entrou arrastando
os pés.
— Tio, você acha que na Via Láctea há um bilhão de estrelas? — perguntou
Willem.
— Um bilhão são mil milhões — explicou Pietie —, e levaria meses só para
contar até um milhão.
— Ah, senhorzinho, sem dúvida há um bilhão de estrelas lá em cima —
respondeu Karel, astutamente apropriando-se da palavra ouvida pela primeira
vez.
Pareceu meditar um segundo sobre o assunto e acrescentou:
— Talvez até dois bilhões, mas não se sabe ao certo, porque ninguém
nunca conseguiu contar. São muitas estrelas. E pensar que a estrada brilhante
no céu é feita de brasas e cinzas, vejam vocês!
Acomodou-se em seu banquinho, já com sua plateia cativa.
— Sim, senhorzinhos — continuou. — Há muito, muito tempo, quando o
Velho com a luz debaixo dos braços ia dormir, o céu ficava completamente
escuro, mas o povo aprendeu a fazer fogo para iluminar a escuridão. Certa
noite, uma garota se aquecia ao lado de uma fogueira e começou a brincar com
as cinzas. Pegava as cinzas e as jogava para cima, porque achava bonito o
modo como flutuavam no ar. Enquanto elas voavam, a menina colocava
galhos com folhas verdes no fogo e os sacudia. A fogueira lançava faíscas que
iam muito alto, misturando-se com as cinzas prateadas, até que essa mistura se
fixou no ar criando uma estrada brilhante que cortava o céu. Essa estrada está
lá em cima até hoje. Os patrões chamam de Via Láctea, mas o tio chama de
Estrada do Céu. Quando acabou o trabalho, a menina ficou muito feliz! Ela
batia as palmas e dançava, se remexendo igual ao povo do tio quando estão
contentes. E cantava:
“Estrelinhas, tão estreladas
Brilharam até criar uma estrada
Poeira de sol, cinza de brasa,
A noite acaba na alvorada!”
D
arkly-blue and illimitable, the arc of the sky hung over the great
Karroo like a canopy of softest velvet, making a deep, mysterious
background for the myriad stars, which twinkled brightly at a frosty
world.
The three little boys, gathered at the window, pointed out to each other
the constellations with which Cousin Minnie had made them familiar, and
were deep in a discussion as to the nature and number of the stars composing
the Milky Way when Outa shuffled in.
“Outa, do you think there are a billion stars up there in the Milky Way?”
asked Willem.
“A billion, you know,” explained Pietie, “is a thousand million, and it
would take months to count even one million.”
“Aja, baasje,” said the old man readily, seizing, with native adroitness, the
unknown word and making it his own, “then there will surely be a billion
stars up there. Perhaps,” he added, judicially considering the matter, “two
billion, but no one knows, because no one can ever count them. They are too
many. And to think that that bright road in the sky is made of wood ashes,
after all.”
He settled himself on his stool, and his little audience came to attention.
“Yes, my baasjes,” he went on, “long, long ago, the sky was dark at night
when the Old Man with the bright armpits lay down to sleep, but people
learned in time to make fires to light up the darkness; and one night a girl,
who sat warming herself by a wood fire, played with the ashes. She took the
ashes in her hands and threw them up to see how pretty they were when they
floated in the air. And as they floated away she put green bushes on the fire
and stirred it with a stick. Bright sparks flew out and went high, high, mixing
with the silver ashes, and they all hung in the air and made a bright road
across the sky. And there it is to this day. Baasjes call it the Milky Way, but
Outa calls it the Stars’ Road.
“Ai! but the girl was pleased! She clapped her hands and danced, shaking
herself like Outa’s people do when they are happy, and singing:—
“Then she took some of the roots she had been eating and threw them
into the sky, and there they hung and turned into large stars. The old roots
turned into stars that gave a red light, and the young roots turned into stars
that gave a golden light. There they all hung, winking and twinkling and
singing. Yes, singing, my baasjes, and this is what they sang:—
“Baasjes know, when the stars twinkle up there in the sky they are like
little children nodding their heads and saying, ‘It’s so! It’s so! It’s so!’” At each
repetition Outa nodded and winked, and the children, with antics of approval,
followed suit.
“Baasjes have sometimes seen a star fall?” Three little heads nodded in
concert.
“When a star falls,” said the old man impressively, “it tells us someone has
died. For the star knows when a person’s heart fails and the person dies, and it
falls from the sky to tell those at a distance that someone they know has died 5.
“One star grew and grew till he was much larger than the others. He was
the Great Star, and, singing, he named the other stars. He called each one by
name, till they all had their names, and in this way they knew that he was the
Great Star. No other could have done so. Then when he had finished, they all
sang together and praised the Great Star, who had named them 2.
“Now, when the day is done, they walk across the sky on each side of the
Stars’ Road. It shows them the way. And when Night is over, they turn back
and sail again by the Stars’ Road to call the Daybreak, that goes before the Sun.
The Star that leads the way is a big bright star. He is called the Dawn’s-Heart
Star, and in the dark, dark hour, before the Stars have called the Dawn, he
shines—ach! baasjes, he is beautiful to behold! The wife and the child of the
Dawn’s-Heart Star are pretty, too, but not so big and bright as he. They sail on
in front, and then they wait—wait for the other Stars to turn back and sail
along the Stars’ Road, calling, calling the Dawn, and for the Sun to come up
from under the world, where he has been lying asleep.
“They call and sing, twinkling as they sing:—
“So they sing, baasjes, because they know they are soon going out.
“Then slowly the Dawn comes, rubbing her eyes, smiling, stretching out
bright fingers, chasing the darkness away. The Stars grow faint and the Stars’
Road fades, while the Dawn makes a bright pathway for the Sun. At last he
comes with both arms lifted high, and the brightness, streaming from under
them, makes day for the world, and wakes people to their work and play.
“But the little Stars wait till he sleeps again before they begin their singing.
Summer is the time when they sing best, but even now, if baasjes look out of
the window they will see the Stars, twinkling and singing.”
The children ran to the window and gazed out into the starlit heavens.
The last sight Outa had, as he drained the soopje glass the Baas was just in
time to hand him, was of three little heads bobbing up and down in time to
the immemorial music of the Stars, while little Jan’s excited treble rang out:
“Yes, it’s quite true, Outa. They do say, ‘It’s so! It’s so! It’s so!’”
2 “When the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God
shouted for joy.”—Job xxxviii. 7.
As estrelas e a estrada do céu - bilíngue
As estrelas e a Estrada do Céu