"O Captain! My Captain!"

Penso que boa parte das pessoas que viveu a sua juventude nos finais dos anos 80 começo dos 90 teve, a alguma altura, o filme "O Clube dos Poetas Mortos" (Dead Poets Society) como seu filme de referência.

Todos nós desejámos ter (ou tivemos...) um professor assim tão bem representado por um actor que morreu há poucas horas.

E eu sim, tive a sorte de ter um professor "como o do filme" talvez ainda mais ousado, um homem que nos deixou há vários anos, mas que penso que deixou na maior parte dos seus alunos a sua marca, a marca de nunca deixarmos de sermos livres, nunca deixarmos que aprisionem o nosso espírito, as nossas ideias, mas sobretudo a nossa imaginação...

Recordo então o actor, mas sobretudo o Professor num poema que tornou (ainda mais...) único este filme

Carpe Diem. Seize the day boys. Make your lives extraordinary

O Captain! My Captain!

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;

The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won;

The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,

While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:

But O heart! heart! heart!

O the bleeding drops of red,

Where on the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;

Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;

For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;

For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

Here Captain! dear father!

This arm beneath your head;

It is some dream that on the deck,

You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;

My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;

The ship is anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;

From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;

Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!

But I, with mournful tread,

Walk the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

Walt Whitman