A day in the sea, far away from home a little island is in the horizon.

Land to discover. Place with a small number of habitants but who is waiting for new visitors every day.

Breathe the clean air in the beach, see the blue sky over you head, walk slowly to the lighthouse, and there, take a book in the library and enjoy the moment of calm near the sea.

A beautiful sunset when the day is over is the best gift for the traveler, Alba Island is now in you for ever.

_____________________________________________

A procura dun lugar refuxio onde soñar, desconectar… albiscamos unha illa branca e refulxente como a aurora. É a nosa Illa Alba, hai outras illas, algunha do mesmo nome, todas elas custodian segredos e artellan historias.

Lugar encantado que agarda despois de longa travesía. Percorremos ducias de millas imaxinarias antes de chegar, as rachas de forte vento fixéronnos varar na praia. As ondas seguían chegando a area, moldeando os nosos corpos para fundilos e convertelos nun elemento máis.

Bancos de néboa cubrían a superficie. O faro presidía dende o cumio a escea proxectando a súa brilante luz. A súa presenza espertou en nós a curiosidade e a necesidade de calor. Camiñamos cara a construción milenaria que guiaba os nosos pasos para ofrecernos o que imos compartir.

Aquí facemos mención de algúns dos libros que alí foron deixando os seus habitantes, de variada procedencia. Tamén o escrito polas persoas que moraron ou pasaron pola illa para logo seguir outro rumbo. Se chega algunha botella ou pomba con mensaxe nós arquivámolo na biblioteca da Illa dos Sentimentos, Alba.

Translate

sábado, 18 de maio de 2019

41. Os vellos mercados/Old markets



Os vellos mercados teñen desaparecido, engulidos por un afán renovador que tan só busca eliminar o pasado en aras do beneficio económico a curto prazo. Pero tamén se destrúen as lembranzas dun pobo, a súa cultura e costumes. Os vellos mercados, como este de Agolada en Pontevedra que milagrosamente foi salvado, eran lugares de encontro para a poboación, non so espazos onde mercar e vender produtos. Eran nodos de interconexión das realidades individuales das poboacións cuxos habitantes acudían a eles, como un xeito de internet antiga onde a tradición oral crecía e se difundían as tradicións e a cultura. Legado perdido para sempre e irremplazable.
The old markets have disappeared, they have devoured by an innovator zeal which only is searching  destruction of past in the interest of fast wealth, but also memories of specific people, traditions and customs are being destroyed too. Old markets, as the present one in Agolada (Pontevedra, Spain), which have survived miraculously were locations where people met, not only spaces where people bought or sold things. They were connection nodes of nearby towns like an ancient internet where oral tradition grew and customs  and culture were spread. They are a lost and irreplaceable legacy.




















domingo, 28 de abril de 2019

40. Poem for a fisherman


Someone who only Knows inside places
is over the cliffs and sees the immensity of sea surfaces,
and while he contemplates all this waving rage in every hit
thinks naively, I can domain it.

But Neptune from his throne
wants remain standalone
and looking in the eye to a new pretender
says defiant, after rise his trident higher:

If you love your home
and return to a fireplace every day,
then don't do it.

If you appreciate the vision of every sunshine
but not the sound of the storm,
then don't do it.

If you are searching fast wealth
instead a life of pain,
then don't do it.

But if you are ready to sacrifice
and sail following an uncertain destiny,
then do it.