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Aqui neste pequeno espaƧo, tento conciliar o que produzi e o que tentei fazer neste pequeno escrito. Fiz um relato breve e lacĆ“nico das possibilidades do ser humano em entender a leitura da realidade. Tentei ser fiel a minha história pessoal que traduz aquilo que sou, e que disso nĆ£o posso fugir e o que afinal posso julgar. Mas como vejo o mundo em crise, passo, sem cerimĆ“nia, a transcrever um grande poema de T. S. Eliot: Filho do homem, nĆ£o consegues dizer, nem adivinhar, pois conheces apenas um montĆ£o de imagens quebradas, onde bate o sol, e a Ć”rvore morta nĆ£o dĆ” qualquer abrigo, nem o grilo alĆvio, nem a pedra seca qualquer ruĆdo de Ć”gua. Apenas hĆ” sombra debaixo desta rocha vermelha (anda vem para a sombra desta rocha vermelha), e vou mostrar-te uma coisa ao mesmo tempo diferente da tua sombra quando ao amanhecer te segue e da tua sombra quando ao entardecer te enfrenta; vou mostrar-te o medo num punhado de poeira.
Here, in this short extract, I try to conciliate what I have produced with what I have tried to do in this short written. I did a brief and laconic report of the possibilities of the human being to understand the lection of reality. I tried to be faithful to my personal story which reflects who I am, and from that faithfulness I can not escape and, after all, is what I am able to judge. However, because I see the world in crisis, I come to, without ceremony, transcribe a great poem from T.S. Eliot : ā Son of man, You cannot say, or guess, for you know only A heap of broken images, where the sun beats, And the dead trees gives no shelter, the cricket no relief, And the dry stone no sound of water. Only There is shadow under this red rock, ( Come in under the shadow of this red rock), And I will show you something different from either Your shadow at morning striding behind you Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you ; I will show you fear in a handful of dust.ā
Here, in this short extract, I try to conciliate what I have produced with what I have tried to do in this short written. I did a brief and laconic report of the possibilities of the human being to understand the lection of reality. I tried to be faithful to my personal story which reflects who I am, and from that faithfulness I can not escape and, after all, is what I am able to judge. However, because I see the world in crisis, I come to, without ceremony, transcribe a great poem from T.S. Eliot : ā Son of man, You cannot say, or guess, for you know only A heap of broken images, where the sun beats, And the dead trees gives no shelter, the cricket no relief, And the dry stone no sound of water. Only There is shadow under this red rock, ( Come in under the shadow of this red rock), And I will show you something different from either Your shadow at morning striding behind you Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you ; I will show you fear in a handful of dust.ā
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Direito constitucional Direito do ambiente Direitos fundamentais Portugal Brasil Teses de mestrado - 2015
