Tribute to Eugenio Montale, dedicated to my Italian students.

3. I wonder if that
little saffron
coloured butterfly

4. which came to meet
me everyday at the
Dinard’s square café

5. …and
used to
bring
(so it seemed to me)
news from
you

6. did ever return to that
cold and windy little
square, after I had left?

7. Distance Intime, Dinard, France,
photo by © Pierre Lapointe
- http://pt.db-city.com/Fran%C3%A7a/Bretanha/Ille-et-Vilaine/Dinard

10. © Gipsy34, Vulcain Butterfly
- http://voyages.fond-ecran-
image.com/blog-photo/author/gipsy34/

13. or whether it ignored
deliberately the other bars
because I was exactly at that one
(at ―Cornouaille‖)

14. or whether that little corner
was simply on its
mechanical daily itinerary.
The Red Rose, photography by me (Suy / São Ludovino.

15. In conclusion,
was it a morning
walk or a secret
message?

16. http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/5xx9FW/www.webdesignerdepot.com/2010/03/the-amazing-art-of-disabled-artists © Alice Schonfield, Fleur de la Mer.

17. Maid Servant http://www.cockermouth.org.uk/

19. In Search of Venus, photography by Suy / São Ludovino. Montage
made in the application Fun Photo Box – www.funphotobox.com

20. I waited for the
butterfly to
alight on a vase
of flowers,
Johan Laurentz Jensen, 1800-1856, Danish painter,
Still Life Of Dahlias In A Vase, n.d.

22. ©Louis Bourdon, Dinard, La pointe de la Malouine -
http://www.pbase.com/louis_bourdon/image/68775408

23. I didn't explained her all
the case, only a part of it. © Evgeni Gordiets
- www.evgenigordiets.com

24. I was an amateur
entomologist and I
wished to know if
the butterfly
Entomology - Butterfly, University of
California, Riverside.
http://cnasstudent.ucr.edu/majors/entomology.html

25. would come back again and
how much it would have
longed with all that cold. © Rey Nocum, Yellow butterfly.
http://www.treknature.com/gallery/Asia/Philippines/photo29080.htm

26. Then I became
silent, sweaty and
terrified.
Spring Flower Wallpaper - by © Naghana, Photobucket
http://photobucket.com/images/photography/

27. —Un papillon? Un papillon jaune? —

28. said the graceful
Filli opening her
Greuze eyes wide.
Jean-Baptiste Greuze, A Young Maid.
Background: Searching for the Light,, photography by Suy / São Ludovino.

29. —On that vase?—
Berthe Morisot, 1841-1895, Dahlias.

30. —I can see nothing.
Look better.
Merci Bien, Monsieur.
Pierre-Auguste Renoir, 1841-1919, Vase of Roses and Dahlias, 1883. Johann Georg Meyer von Bremen, 1813-1886, German painter, The Butterfly, 1878.

32. I bowed my head and
when I raised it again I
saw the butterfly wasn't on
the dahlias vase anymore.
http://www.imagesofbrittany.com/dinard.html

33. Background: Jill Price - www.artbattleto.com

34. Em suma, passeio matutino ou mensagem secreta? Para aclarar a
dúvida, na véspera do meu regresso, resolvi deixar um bom
pourboire à criada e, com ele, o meu endereço em Itália. Ela teria de
me escrever um sim ou um não; se a visitante tornara a dar sinal de
vida depois de eu ter partido ou se nunca mais se deixara ver.
Esperei então que a borboletinha poisasse num vaso de flores e,
tirando da algibeira uma nota de cem, um pedacito de papel e um
lápis, chamei a rapariga. A gaguejar, num francês mais indeciso que
o do costume, expliquei-lhe o assunto. Não o assunto todo, mas
uma parte. Eu era um entomologista amador, queria saber se a
borboleta ainda ali tornaria e até quando seria capaz de aguentar
aquele frio. Em seguida calei-me, aterrado e em suores.
─ Un papillon? Un papillon jaune? ─ disse a graciosa Filli,
arregalando um par de olhos à Greuze. ─ Naquele vaso? Mas eu
não vejo lá nada. Ora repare melhor. Merci bien, Monsieur.
Enfiou na algibeira a nota de cem e afastou-se, segurando na mão
um café-filtro. Baixei a cabeça e quando voltei a erguê-la vi que a
borboleta havia desaparecido do vaso das dálias.
A Borboleta de Dinard, Eugenio Montale, Círculo de Leitores, Lisboa, 1975.
Background: Jill Price - www.artbattleto.com

35. Background: photography by Suy / São Ludovino.

36. To answer this question, I decided to leave a good pourboire and my
address in Italy to my maid. She was supposed to write to me
telling whether yes or no the butterfly had come back after my
leaving or if it hadn't returned anymore.
I waited for the butterfly to alight on a vase of flowers, and
picking from my pocket a note of hundred, a sheet of paper and a
pencil, I called for my maid. Talking in a more unsteady French
than usual and stammering, I explained her the case; I didn't
explained her all the case, only a part of it. I was an amateur
entomologist and I wished to know if the butterfly would come
back again and how much it would have longed with all that cold.
Then I became silent, sweaty and terrified. —Un papillon? Un
papillon jaune? — said the graceful Filli opening her Greuze eyes
wide. —On that vase?—I can see nothing. Look better. Merci bien,
Monsieur.
She pocketed the hundred note and went away holding a coffee
filter. I bowed my head and when I raised it again I saw the
butterfly wasn't on the dahlias vase anymore.
Translation by Suy / São Ludovino from a Portuguese
edition: A Borboleta de Dinard, Eugenio Montale,
Background: photography by Suy / São Ludovino. Círculo de Leitores, Lisboa, 1975.

37. Eugenio Montale, 1896-1981

40. Suy © 2011
Background: photography by Suy / São Ludovino.