Archives for June 2011

Challenges / Desafios

Nostalgia

O Jogo de xadrez


Illustration by Ken Crane

O jovem disse ao abade do mosteiro:

– Bem que eu gostaria de ser um monge, mas tudo que meu pai me ensinou foi jogar xadrez. Sei que qualquer jogo é um pecado.

– Pode ser um pecado, mas também pode ser uma diversí£o – foi a resposta.
O abade pediu um tabuleiro de xadrez, chamou um monge, e mandou-o jogar com o rapaz.

Mas antes da partida comeí§ar, acrescentou:

– Embora precisemos de diversí£o, ní£o podemos permitir que todo mundo fique jogando xadrez. Entí£o, teremos apenas o melhor dos jogadores aqui; se nosso monge perder, ele sairá do mosteiro, e abrirá uma vaga para vocíª.

O abade falava sério. O rapaz sentiu que jogava por sua vida, e suou frio; o tabuleiro tornou-se o centro do mundo.

O monge comeí§ou a perder.
O rapaz atacou, mas entí£o viu o olhar de santidade do outro; a partir deste momento, comeí§ou a jogar errado de propósito.

Afinal de contas preferia perder, porque o monge podia ser mais útil ao mundo.

De repente, o abade jogou o tabuleiro no chí£o.

– Vocíª aprendeu muito mais do que lhe ensinaram – disse. – Concentrou-se o suficiente para vencer, foi capaz de lutar pelo que desejava.
“Em seguida, teve compaixí£o, e disposií§í£o para sacrificar-se em nome de uma nobre causa.

” Seja bem-vindo ao mosteiro, porque sabe equilibrar a disciplina com a misericórdia.”
 
 
 

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La partida de ajedrez


Illustration by Ken Crane

Dijo el joven al sacerdote: “Me gustarí­a entrar en el monasterio, pero nada de lo que he aprendido es importante. Todo lo que mi padre me enseñó es a jugar al ajedrez, algo que no sirve para alcanzar la iluminación.”

El sacerdote pidió que le trajeran un tablero, llamó a un monje y le ordenó que jugara con el muchacho, añadiendo: “el que pierda, morirá.”

El joven se dio cuenta de que estaba luchando por su vida, y el tablero se convirtió en el centro del mundo.
Sin embargo, como conocí­a todas las estrategias, enseguida vio que el monje iba a perder. Se preparaba para el golpe final, cuando observó la miraba de santidad de su adversario.
Comenzó a cometer errores a propósito; preferí­a morir, pues el monje podrí­a ser más útil a la humanidad.

De repente, el sacerdote tiró el tablero al suelo.

“Has aprendido más de lo que te enseñaron,” dijo. “Sabes que el camino de la luz no está hecho sólo de concentración, sino también de compasión. Te acepto como mi discí­pulo.”

Aleph (the contest) – Final call

We have now 10 days left! The deadline for presenting the video is July 1, 2011.
Read the rules here:
ALEPH, THE VIDEO CONTEST

Remember: you don’t need to buy or read the book – that it is published only in six countries so far (being # 1 in all of them! )
Important: ALEPH by Flavio Waiterman is not in the competition
but you can use as an example.

Below you find some interesting entries.
Looking forward to hearing from you
Paulo

ALEPH by Raif Kurt


ALEPH by M&M

ALEPH by Fiuna & Shauky

Gabriela Romaria by herself

Like I did with Celinne Costa, Barbara Zedler, Eleonora Iso, this week I give the floor to Gabriela Romaria

Talking about ANGELS in my show “IMAGINARY TALKS” with PAULO COELHO. A TV CHANEL for FUN and for MY FRIENDS! ***
Subtitles in Romanian language! ***

I encourage you to find creative ways to use my texts (walls, sand, stone, anything creative), and I will also promote them here. In this case, please send your photos to [email protected]

Fear of failure


 

Online Bookstore HERE
Kindle (four languages) HERE

10 SEG LEITURA: Confucio e o bíªbado

Quando ia para o lago, Confúcio sempre passava por determinada casa e parava para conversar sobre o jardim da varanda, que era o orgulho do proprietário.

í€s vezes, o homem estava bíªbado, mas Confúcio fingia ní£o prestar atení§í£o ao fato e continuava a falar do jardim.

Num dia em que o homem estava muito embriagado, um discí­pulo disse:

“Ele ní£o escuta porque sua alma está cheia de álcool”.

Confúcio respondeu:
“Uma pessoa só consegue se desenvolver, sabendo que tem um lado bom. Mesmo nos momentos de fraqueza, é preciso chamar a atení§í£o para este lado.

“Entí£o, eu converso sobre a beleza de seu trabalho como jardineiro e, em algum canto de sua alma, ele me escuta.
“Assim consigo evitar que a culpa destrua sua vontade de seguir o caminho”
 
 
 

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Six countries, six # 1 !

Today, ALEPH was published in its sixth country, Serbia.
Thanks Serbia to join Brasil, Portugal, Turkey, Hungary, and Bulgaria ( CHECK ALL THE LISTS HERE ) , in keeping the tradition: directly to # 1 !



(source: Korisna Knjiga)

ALEPH updated publication dates > CLICK HERE
ALEPH video (USA) > CLICK HERE
ALEPH video contest > CLICK HERE

Eleonora Iso by herself


CLICK IN THE THUMBNAIL TO ENLARGE
____________________________________

Like I did with Celinne Costa (who painted her body with a quote from a book of mine), and Barbara Zedler, with a painting using one of my quotes in Twitter, this week Eleonora Iso has the space here.

Written in the bottle: “We find love by loving, and not by talking about it”
Idea: eleonora liso
Photo and editing : gianni salvi and vita de santis.

I encourage you to find creative ways to use my texts (walls, sand, stone, anything creative), and I will also promote them here. In this case, please send your photos to [email protected]

Nunca mais/ Never more


The Brazilian military right wing dictatorship lasted from 1964 to 1984. Today, as we see in the Arab Spring, many people died and I myself was arrested three times (and tortured in one of the arrests), but in the end freedom prevailed.
Don’t lose your hope!
Below are the lyrics in English I found on the web

Father, move this chalice away from me (“cálice” sounds the same as “cale-se” which means “be quiet, shut up”)

Father, move this chalice away from me
Father, move this chalice away from me
Of red wine of blood

How to drink of this bitter beverage
Swallow the pain, swallow the toil
Even silent the night, there’s the chest
Silence in the city is not heard
What’s worth to me to be the son of the saint
It’d be better to be the son of the other
Other reality less dead
So many lies, so much brute strength

How difficult it is to wake up silent
If in the dead of the night I’m screwed
I want to cast an inhuman scream
Which is a way to be heard
All this silence baffles me
Baffled, I remain attentive
In the bleachers to at any moment
See emerge the monster of the lagoon

Very fat, the pig no longer walks
Very used, the knife no longer cuts
How hard it is, father, to open the door
This word trapped in my throat
This homeric inebriation in the world
What good it is to have good will
Even silent the chest, there’s the head
Of the drunken downtown

Maybe the world’s not small
Neither is life a consumated fact
I want to invent my own sin
I want to die of my own poison
I want to completely lose your head
My head lose your judgement
I want to smell the smoke of diesel oil
Get drunk until someone
forgets me

Portuguese → English translation by isaprospero

ALEPH (the contest)

Be welcome to participate. Read the rules here: ALEPH, THE VIDEO CONTEST
The deadline for presenting the video is July 1, 2011. The winners will be announced on July 25, 2011.
Remember: you don’t need to buy or read the book – that it is published only in five countries so far
Important: ALEPH by Flavio Waiterman is not in the competition
but you can use as an example.

Below you find some interesting entries.
Looking forward to hearing from you
Paulo

(ALEPH updated publication dates > CLICK HERE)



ALEPH by Richard Kirov & Luba MIladinova

ALEPH by Fussel


ALEPH by Kantar,Turgut and Erkus

ALEPH by Lalou

Character of the week:Elizabeth Browning

Sonnet 14 from Sonnets from the Portuguese

If thou must love me, let it be for nought
Except for love’s sake only. Do not say
“I love her for her smile””her look””her way
Of speaking gently,””for a trick of thought

That falls in well with mine, and certes brought
A sense of pleasant ease on such a day”””
For these things in themselves, Belovèd, may
Be changed, or change for thee,””and love, so wrought,

May be unwrought so. Neither love me for
Thine own dear pity’s wiping my cheeks dry,””
A creature might forget to weep, who bore

Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!
But love me for love’s sake, that evermore
Thou may’st love on, through love’s eternity.


Sonnet 43 from Sonnets from the Portuguese

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

I love thee to the level of everyday’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints,””I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!””and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

___________________
Elizabeth Barrett Browning (6 March 1806 – 29 June 1861) was one of the most prominent poets of the Victorian era.

Your epitaph / Seu epitáfio

Once someone asked me:
“What do you want to be your epitaph?” [ text on your tombstone]
I answered:” I will be cremated, but if I ever had an epitaph, it would be:
‘ Paulo Coelho died while he was alive.” “

The person said “Why this epitaph? Everybody dies when he or she is alive.”
I said, “No, this is not true. If the same pattern is repeated over and over again, you are not alive anymore. To die alive is to take risks. To pay your price.”

Some epitaphs:

“Don’t Try” Charles Bukowski

The best is yet to come.” Frank Sinatra

“I had a lover’s quarrel with the world” Robert Frost

“Free at last. Free at last. Thank God Almighty I’m Free At Last.” Martin Luther King, Jr.

“A tomb now suffices him for whom the world was not enough” Alexander the Great

“Truth to your own spirit” Jim Morrison

SO, HERE IS MY QUESTION
What should be written in your tombstone?
Qual seria o seu epitáfio?

USE COMMENTS BELOW TO ANSWER, ALLOWING PEOPLE WHO ARE NEITHER IN TWITTER NOR IN FACEBOOK TO READ IT

| USE “COMMENTS” ABAIXO PARA RESPONDER, PERMITINDO QUE GENTE QUE NAO ESTí NO TWITTER OU FACEBOOK POSSA LER TAMBEM

20 SEC READING: Zombies

Do you consider yourself wise? ( Stieg Hagen, Denmark)

I don’t know what you mean by wisdom.

Once someone asked me:
“What do you want to be your epitaph?” [ text on your tombstone]
I answered:” I will be cremated, but if I ever had an epitaph, it would be: ‘ Paulo Coelho died while he was alive.” ”

The person said “Why this epitaph? Everybody dies when he or she is alive.”
I said, “No, this is not true.”

If he same pattern is repeated over and over again, you are not alive anymore. To die alive is to take risks. To pay your price.

To do something that sometimes scares you but you should do because you may like or you may not like.

I don’t believe suicide is an option – but we have to die several times in this life, in order to understand it. “To die”, in this sense, is to get rid of the old values, and to move for a place that we don’t know, that we don’t feel secure, but at least that give us joy.

UPDATE: Yesterday I decided to ask my friends in Twitter: “What would be your epitaph?” Please be welcome to read the answers and add yours in my comments, by CLICKING HERE to allow people who are not in Facebook to read it
 
 
 

Online Bookstore HERE
Kindle (four languages) HERE

1 MIN LEITURA: como a trilha foi aberta

Um dia, um bezerro precisou atravessar uma floresta virgem para voltar a seu pasto. Sendo animal irracional, abriu uma trilha tortuosa, cheia de curvas, subindo e descendo colinas.

No dia seguinte, um cí£o usou essa mesma trilha para atravessar a floresta. Depois foi a vez de um carneiro, lí­der de um rebanho, que vendo o espaí§o já aberto, fez seus companheiros seguirem por ali.

Mais tarde, os homens comeí§aram a usar esse caminho: abaixavam-se, desviavam-se de obstáculos, reclamando e praguejando – com toda razí£o.

Mas ní£o faziam nada para criar uma nova alternativa.

Depois de tanto uso, a trilha acabou virando uma estradinha onde os pobres animais se cansavam sob cargas pesadas, sendo obrigados a percorrer em tríªs horas uma distí¢ncia que poderia ser vencida em 30 minutos, caso ní£o seguissem o caminho aberto por um bezerro.

Muitos anos se passaram e a estradinha tornou-se a rua principal de um vilarejo, e posteriormente a avenida principal de uma cidade. Todos reclamavam do trí¢nsito, porque o trajeto era o pior possí­vel.

Enquanto isso, a velha e sábia floresta ria, ao ver que os homens tem a tendíªncia de seguir como cegos o caminho que já está aberto, sem nunca se perguntarem se aquela é a melhor escolha.

(baseado em uma história da India)

 
 
 

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A story in 6 words / Uma história em 6 palavras

Hemingway once wrote a story in just six words (“For sale: baby shoes, never worn.”) and is said to have called it his best work.
WIRED asked several writers to do the same. Here are some examples

With bloody hands, I say good-bye.
– Frank Miller

I’m your future, child. Don’t cry.
– Stephen Baxter

The baby’s blood type? Human, mostly.
– Orson Scott Card

WHY DON’T YOU USE “COMMENTS” HERE A DO THE SAME?
POR QUE NAO USAM OS “COMMENTS” AQUI E CONTAM UMA HISTORIA EM SEIS PALAVRAS?

UPDATE: 35 minutes after the post I had over 350 stories. And as I need to sleep, I must close the comments here. THANK YOU VERY MUCH for participating!

ATUALIZAçíƒO: 35 minutos depois do post eu tinha acima de 350 histórias. E como preciso dormir, vou fechar os comments aqui. MUITO OBRIGADO por terem participado!