sexta-feira, 2 de dezembro de 2016

Momento de Reverência à Astronomia


Olá!
Caros Leitores,
Hoje, dia 02 de dezembro, é considerado o Dia Nacional da Astronomia.
Nosso Momento de Reverência à Astronomia
por Janine Milward
em poema de Sarah Williams
The Old Astronomer to His Pupil

Reach me down my Tycho Brahe, I would know him when we meet,
When I share my later science, sitting humbly at his feet;
He may know the law of all things, yet be ignorant of how
We are working to completion, working on from then to now.
Pray remember that I leave you all my theory complete,
Lacking only certain data for your adding, as is meet,
And remember men will scorn it, 'tis original and true,
And the obliquy of newness may fall bitterly on you.
But, my pupil, as my pupil you have learned the worth of scorn,
You have laughed with me at pity, we have enjoyed to be forlorn,
What for us are all distractions of men's fellowship and smiles;
What for us the Goddess Pleasure with her meretricious smiles.
You may tell that German College that their honor comes too late,
But they must not waste repentance on the grizzly savant's fate.
Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;
I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.
..........
(from _Best Loved Poems of the American People_, Hazel Felleman, ed. 
Garden City Publishing Co., Garden City NY: 1936, pp. 613-614)

(The last line was used as an epitaph for an Astronomer-couple
buried at Alleghany Observatory) 

............................................

CONHEÇA O POEMA POR INTEIRO,
acessando
https://archive.org/stream/twilighthoursleg00willrich#page/71/mode/1up
................................................


“Reach me down my Tycho Brahe, I would know him when we meet”
A poeta Sarah Williams nestes versos bem descreveu o sentimento do velho astrônomo em seu leito de morte, deixando seu conhecimento como herança para seu discípulo...
Ele pede ao seu discípulo para lhe trazer o retrato pintado de Tycho Brahe, o grande mestre astrônomo anterior a Kepler, a Galileu... para reconhecê-lo quando se encontrarem... E o velho astrônomo tem certeza de que – apesar de Tycho Brahe saber a lei sobre todas as coisas, ainda assim não sabe o que o velho astrônomo já acumulou de conhecimentos, dando continuidade ao trabalho da astronomia desde aquele tempo mais antigo até aquele momento... trabalho esse que, humildemente, o velho astrônomo anseia por compartilhar com o antigo mestre... Essa é a primeira estrofe.
A segunda estrofe começa com o velho astrônomo deixando como herança ao seu discípulo sua teoria já completa, ao mesmo tempo que fazendo seu herdeiro saber que a esta teoria ele deverá acrescentar mais e mais informações. E o avisa: os homens zombarão dêle – apesar de sua teoria se provar original e verdadeira. E sentencia: a ignorância em relação ao novo conhecimento cairá como fel sobre o discípulo.
Na terceira estrofe e nos dois primeiros versos da quarta estrofe, o velho astrônomo devaneia sobre as zombarias e o não-reconhecimento que o discípulo teve oportunidade de vivenciar junto ao seu mestre e sobre o bom-humor e temperança com que ambos tiveram que enfrentar tais vicissitudes... Também assinala que qualquer honraria agora chegaria tarde demais...

Os dois últimos versos da última estrofe são de uma beleza ímpar:
“Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;
I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.”
Assim, o velho astrônomo termina sua vida dizendo (traduzindo livremente) :
Apesar de minha alma permanecer na escuridão, ela ascenderá plenamente iluminada,
Meu amor pelas estrelas tem sido grande demais para que eu tema a (escuridão da) noite
.... ou ... para que eu tema a morte.”
.............................................................................

NÃO PERCA O VÍDEO!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SymqFL1mdV4
The Old Astronomer Poem Reading
Publicado em 31 de jan de 2016
Reading of the full poem The Old Astronomer to His Pupil by Sarah Williams.
Read by Mary-Jean Harris, dedicated in memory of Thomas E. Harris.
.....................................................

Sarah Williams (December 1837[a] –April 25, 1868) was an English poet and novelist, most famous as the author of the poem "The Old Astronomer". She published short works and one collection of poetry during her lifetime under the pseudonyms Sadie and S.A.D.I., the former of which she considered her name rather than a nom de plume.[1] Her posthumously published second poetry collection and novel appeared under her given name.

Biography

Williams was born in December 1837[a] in Marylebone, London, to Welsh father Robert Williams (c. 1807–1868) and English mother Louisa Ware (c. 1811–1886).[2][3] She was very close to her father and considered her "bardic" interests to come from him.[4] As a young child unable to pronounce 'Sarah', she inadvertently gave herself the nickname 'Sadie'.[1] An only child, she was educated first by her doting parents and later governesses.[4]
Although Williams was only half Welsh by birth and never lived outside London, she incorporated Welsh phrases and themes in her poems and Sadie was considered a Welsh poet.[5]
Robert Williams died in January 1868 of a sudden illness. Already suffering from cancer and devastated by the loss of her father, Sarah's condition deteriorated.[4] After three additional months of hiding the cancer from her friend and mother, she agreed to surgery despite knowing it might kill her. She died in Kentish Town, London during surgery on April 25, 1868.[3][6]
Her second book of poetry, Twilight Hours: A Legacy of Verse, was published in late 1868. The collection included "The Old Astronomer" (also known as "The Old Astronomer to His Pupil", as it was titled in a 1936 U.S. reprint), now the most famous of her poems. The second half of the fourth stanza is widely quoted:
Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;
I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.[7]
Ian Rankin titled his Inspector Rebus novel Set in Darkness after the lines and quoted them in the introduction. In an interview, Rankin linked the quote to the rise of a restored Scottish Parliament and the redemption of the Inspector in the novel.[8] The poem is written from the perspective of an aged astronomer on his deathbed bidding his student to continue his humble research. The lines have been chosen by a number of professional and amateur astronomers as their epitaphs.[3][9]

Com um abraço estrelado,
Janine Milward