Sgarbe to Cida; Letter two

Cida, today is Saturday, and it is also an important eve for those who believe in the resurrection of the dead. There is no coincidence in this: that you should have a personal celebration on the day of sacred rest. When I think of you, I have too many advantages, namely the happinesses and desires you kindly provide me. It has been so many years, not counting the times that are outside the clock.

You have, my dear friend, for the most part, such a full awareness that the world is turning the way it should, and that one must go on from here, that you turn that awareness into something that serves me at least twice (first, a fragment for spiritual progress; then, I remember you, to give an example, every time I get tangled in a text — a practical aspect of the originality of your routines — you come to me, and I almost hear you with natural ears, in the gentleness of your advice: “follow the subject, Vinícius”). Vinicius de Moraes. “O dia da criação” (The day of creation). Rio de Janeiro, 1946:

[Two stanzas of Moraes’s poem are quoted in the Portuguese version; they are not reproduced here. They say that today is Saturday and tomorrow is Sunday, that life comes in waves like the sea, and that, just in case, one asks God to deliver us from all evil.]