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On the other hand, Joseph de Ca'th Lon who had planned to return to Basel yesterday Thursday has decided to stay a few more days in Lyon enjoying the cultural and sports offer.
El Port de la Selva and the Empordà hide unexpected treasures. A century ago, this fishing village on the Cap de Creus became an important meeting point for Catalan poets, writers, artists and intellectuals, often from Barcelona. An important part of the Catalan artistic creations of the last hundred years have been written, conceived and produced here, such as the famous poem Ho sap tothom, i és profecia, by the poet from Sarrià, J.V. Foix, whom The Grandma knows well and whose work she greatly appreciates.
Ho sap tothom, i és profecia.
La meva mare ho va dir un dia
Quan m’acotxava amb blats lleugers;
Enllà del somni ho repetia
L’aigua dels astres mitjancers
I els vidres balbs d'una establia
Tot d'arrels, al fosc d’un prat:
A cal fuster hi ha novetat.
Els nois que ronden per les cales
Hi cullen plomes per les ales
I algues de sol, i amb veu d'albat,
Criden per l'ull de les escales
Que a cal fuster hi ha novetat.
Els qui ballaven per les sales
Surten i guaiten, des del moll,
Un estel nou que passa el coll.
El coraller ho sap pel pirata
Que amaga els tints en bucs d'escata
Quan crema l'arbre dels escrits;
Al capità d'una fragata
Li ho diu la rosa de les nits.
L'or i l'escuma d'una mata
Clamen, somnàmbuls, pel serrat:
A cal fuster hi ha novetat.
El plor dels rics salpa pels aires,
I les rialles dels captaires
Solquen els glaços del teulat.
Un pastor ho conta als vinyataires:
A cal fuster hi ha novetat.
El roc dels cims escampa flaires,
I al Port mateix, amb roig roent,
Pinten, pallards, l’Ajuntament.
El jutge crema paperassa
Dels anys revolts, a un cap de plaça,
I el mestre d'aixa riu tot sol.
El fum dels recs ja no escridassa
I els pescadors faran un bol.
Tot és silenci al ras de raça
Quan els ho diu l'autoritat:
A cal fuster hi ha novetat.
Els de la Vall i els de Colera
Salten contents, a llur manera,
I els de la Selva s'han mudat;
Amb flors de fenc calquen a l’era:
A cal fuster hi ha novetat.
De Pau i Palau-saverdera
Porten les mels de llur cinglera
I omplen els dolls de vi moscat.
Els de Banyuls i els de Portvendres
Entren amb llanes de mars tendres
I un raig de mots de bon copsar
Pels qui, entre vents, saben comprendre's.
Els traginers de Perpinyà,
Amb sang barrada en drap de cendres,
Clamen dels dalts del pic nevat:
A cal fuster hi ha novetat.
Res no s'acaba i tot comença.
Vénen mecànics de remença
Amb olis nous de llibertat;
Una Veu canta en recompensa:
Que a cal fuster hi ha novetat.
Des d’Alacant a la Provença
Qui mor no mor, si el son és clar
Quan neix la Llum en el quintar.
La gent s'agleva en la nit dura,
Tots anuncien la ventura,
Les Illes porten el saïm,
I els de l'Urgell, farina pura:
Qui res no té, clarors del cim.
La fe que bull no té captura
I no es fa el Pa sense el Llevat:
A cal fuster hi ha novetat.
Everyone knows, it's a prophecy.
My mother said it one day
as she laid me down with gentle wheat;
beyond dreams it was repeated
by the water of intermediary stars
and the raw panes of a stable
covered in roots, in the darkness of a meadow:
at the carpenter's house there's a new arrival.
The kids who roam around the coves
gather feathers for wings
and seaweed of the sun, and with an innocent's voice
proclaim through the holes in their ladders
—at the carpenter's there's a new arrival.
Those who were dancing in the halls
come out and gaze, from the quay,
upon a new star passing over the hill.
The coral fisher has been told by the pirate
who hides his dyes in scaly chasms
when the tree of letters burns;
the captain of a frigate is told
by the rose of nights.
The gold and foam of a shrub
announce, somnambulant, through the hills:
at the carpenter's there's a new arrivaL.
The lament of the rich sets sail through the air,
and the laughter of beggars
furrows the ice on the roof.
A shepherd tells the vine growers:
at the carpenter's there's a new arrival.
The summits' rocks scatter scents,
and in the centre of Port de la
Selva, in the brightest red,
strapping lads paint the Town Hall.
The judge burns dossiers
from the insurgent years at one end of the square,
and the adze master laughs alone.
The smoke of the ditches shrieks no more
and the fishermen will cast their nets.
All is silence on the people's level
when they are told by the authority:
at the carpenter's there's a new arrival.
Those from La Vail and those from Colera
leap happily, in their own way,
the people of La Selva have changed;
with hayflower they trace out on the threshing floor:
at the carpenter's there's a new arrival.
From Pau and and Palau-saverdera
they bring the honeys from their cliffs
and fill the springs with muscat wine.
Those from Banyuls and those from Portvendres
enter wearing woollen wraps
from gentle seas and a string of words, well received
by those who, amid winds, can understand one another.
The hauliers from Perpinyà,
with blood striped on a sheet of cinders,
exclaim from the heights of the snow-covered peak:
at the carpenter's there's a new arrival.
Nothing ends and all begins.
Mechanics, bondsmen, come along
with new oils of freedom;
a Voice sings in return:
at the carpenter's there's a new arrival.
From Alacant to Provence
Whosoever dies does not die, if sleep is clear
when the light is born in the ploughland.
Folk gather together in the hard night,
all announce the good fortune,
the Islands bring lard
and those from Urgell pure flour:
those who have nothing, brightness of the peaks.
The faith that boils cannot be captured
and Bread is not made without Yeast:
at the carpenter's there's a new arrival.
Onze Nadals i un Cap d'Any
More information: El Port de la Selva
The new exalts me and the old flatters me.
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