FERNANDO M. S. SILVA, Ph.D.

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Prof. Dr. FERNANDO M. SOARES SILVA, Ph.D.

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University Professor & Executive Administrator---Multilingual Writer---Poet---Author---Community and Social Leader

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Doctor of Philosophy (Ph. D) in Education--Philosophical, Social & Cultural Foundations--Portuguese Studies

University of California, Berkeley, California. 1968

Additional (4) advanced academic degrees encompass the areas of

Philosophy---Education, Psychology, Curriculum and Instruction---Classical and

Modern Romance Languages---Theology and Philosophy.

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SPECIAL HONORS:

Has been the recipient of several special academic and social honors. Among these:

Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation Fellowship and Publication Awards.

President: The Council of Portuguese-American Communities of Northern California

Vice-President: The Council of Portuguese-American Communities of the U.S.A.

Awarded, in 1989, the Order of Prince Henry, the Navigator, ( lnfante D. Henrique ),

with the rank of Comendador, by the President of Portugal, Dr. Mário Soares,

for outstanding career achievements and leadership in the promotion of international understanding and social-cultural affirmation of Portuguese-American communities.

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FERNANDO M. SOARES SILVA's SELECTED POEMS—copyrighted

THE DANCE OF THE SEASONS

Mother Nature, please tell me:

Can the budding and flowery Spring

ever dance with the cold, somber Winter?

Can the early, sunny and warm Summer

ever kiss the defoliating Autumn?

Listen to me, oh you, inquiring heart:

The Seasons gyrate with each other,

embraced, in a never-ending dance,

ever hand-in-hand, and heart to heart,

as the world is propelled in the skies,

perpetually turning around and around

in the infinite vastness of the Universe...

The Sun of hot and relaxing Summers

and gentle, dreamy and romantic Springs,

is the same, the very same, that, tenderly,

osculates the falling leaves of Autumn

and gladdens the cold hearts of gelid Winter

with its Sunshine, bearer of good tidings...

How different is the cool morning dew

of the energetic mornings of Spring,

and of the lazy dawns of Summer season,

from the heavy and often castigating rain

falling down from above, the high heavens ?

Both are an ardent kiss of love from me...

The furious, inclement and uncontrollable winds

that, in Winter, Autumn and in other seasons,

seem to tear apart the innermost peace and quiet

of humans and other creatures in this vast world,

even they turn to mild, suave, and comforting breezes

to refresh and reinvigorate tired bodies an souls...

Even though distinct, one from another,

every one of the Seasons is interrelated

as each and all notes of a great symphony,

as the uninterrupted march of Nature

in Dawn, Day, Evening and Night,

just as a heart in love and love in a heart

evolve into a dance of ethereal beauty...

Come, sweetheart, dance as all Seasons do.

One Nature, One Heart, One Soul...

Let the rose petals of Spring and Summer

pirouette for ever with Autumn and Winter

as they carpet and grace the many pathways,

perhaps short, perhaps long, but never impossible

of that dream of Happiness longing in your heart...

DO YOU REMEMBER ?...

(Previously published with the title

"Blown Away Memories" )

Do you remember those words

whispered sweetly and often,

in the midst of our torrid moments

of a passion that seemed ever radiant,

all-defiant, enormous, uncontrollable,

oblivious of the turbulent world

that roared, unknowingly, about us?

Do you remember those embraces

that caressed you in my avid arms,

and chained your chest tightly to my heart

pulsating furiously, yet sweetly,

as we played wondrous rhapsodies

of a love that seemed so fulfilling,

so quenching the thirst that consumed us?

Do you remember those ardent kisses

that I poured over your glowing face

as we looked serenely at each other’s eyes,

as I stroked you with never stopping fingers,

reflecting the vesuvian emotions of my soul,

the profound depth of my feelings for you,

for what, to me, was the ultimate love ?

I believed it when you said you loved me,

and in return I gave you my whole heart,

with all its dimensions and the intensity

that vibrated from a soul all trusting,

allowing no other distractions or detours,

just happy to have you enshrined in my mind

as my queen, the treasure of my being

Do you still remember those sweet hours,

unforgettable moments of ineffable happiness,

as we now stare at far, far away horizons,

no longer together, but driven apart

by somber skies and the distances in our souls,

and by those gelid winds that, ever increasingly,

have blown away golden dreams and sweet memories ?...

SOUL SEARCHING

Once upon a time, now very distant,

far, far away,

when I was naïve and so very young,

still with little golden curls flowing down

so freely and loosely,

over my serene and unwrinkled forehead,

when I would let my wild imagination

fly daringly high

and build great, huge, magnificent castles

in the resplendent dream factory

of my restless, so effervescent mind,

there was a question,

a most persistent interrogation

that as a shadowy ghost haunted me

as I sought to decipher "WHAT am I ?"

As the years rolled by, some slowly,

some vertiginously,

and many dreams became fulfilled quests

ever so gleaming under the blue sky,

just like diamonds

shining on the haughty warrior's helmet

that I had thought then to be wearing,

so quixotically,

the old question turned philosophical

as I, matured, became introspective

and searched feverishly for the real meaning

of my own self,

of my being and essence in this world

where confusion and madness rein supreme,

and I began to ask: "WHO am I?"

Now, several and long decades later,

white and cold snow

has fallen on my humbler, wiser head,

whose forehead no longer unwrinkled

shows deep furrows,

the disquieting puzzling that haunts me

stirring my quivering mind, heart and soul

relentlessly,

as I wander through the narrow paths

of my own existential sunset

still wondering no longer about

WHAT am I, or WHO am I,

but murmuring, in bewilderment,

why, Heavens, oh why, please tell me,

why ? why ?, "WHY am I ?"

UNFINISHED RHAPSODY…

Come near, very close, my darling...

rest your palpitating heart

on my lonely chest...

and hear my soul's sighs

as I tell you a story,

indeed a secret...

bits, great chunks of me,

amidst the haunting sounds

of an unfinished rhapsody...

As you look deeply into my eyes,

what do you see ?

Perhaps the boldness of a winner

who defied lofty waves

as he subjugated furious Neptunes ?

Or do you still perceive

remnants of bitter tears

along with pestering disquiet

deep, deep in my heart ?

Yes, sweetheart, haunting fears

still trouble and shake my heart...

Fears not of you, darling, my sweet,

but trepidations of distracting you

in your quest for real happiness

and dreams everlasting...

Spring and Winter don't dance together,

nor does the Morning Sun kiss Sunset,

the harbinger of time's end.

Yet, I feel impelled, drawn

to embrace you, oh ! so tightly,

and to love you ardently,

as the ever haunting sounds

of an ineffably beautiful music

overwhelm my whole being,

body, mind, heart and soul,

in a quasi Nirvana stupor

by poets called "amor"...

Come very close to me, sweetheart,

come and hear the melodies of love,

a new love vibrant, yet so tender,

perhaps made in the Olympus

where singing angels and butterflies

pirouette, floating high in space,

oblivious of the boundaries of time,

and the world's many sorrows.

in a never ending dream...

BALADA DE SAUDADES

Ouço, ao perto e ao longe,

aquelas vozes

vindas do além e do aquém

de onde nasci,

e onde, ainda menino,

corria atraz de uma bola

de meros trapos,

mas sempre bela e sedutora

com’ as sereias

dos mares bravos, altaneiros,

da minha terra...

Ouço o repicar dos sinos

nas torres altas

das igrejas do rincão natal,

trinando alegres

nos vários dias de festa,

e mui dolentes

dobrando, dobrando plangentes

ao último adeus,

à partida de mais uma alma

rumo ao eterno,

infinito amor do Criador...

Ouço os foguetes e foguetões

estrondeando

e pincelando em piruetas

o firmamento

azul e, por vezes, cinzento,

ao vagaroso,

solene passar das procissões

pelos caminhos

ornados e embandeirados

das povoações

e dos muitos ridentes corações...

Ouço, gravadas na memória,

as gargalhadas

francas, chistosas e traquinas

dos companheiros

da alegria da juventude

ainda incônscia

dos espinhos das lindas rosas,

ilusórias,

cujas pétalas perfumadas

pluricolores

amaciavam as pègadas...

Ouço os comovidos adeuses

dos meus queridos

que entre soluçcos e sorrisos

me abraçavam

balbuciando “boa sorte”

na hora triste

da minha partida p’ra longe,

terras ignotas

em longínquos continentes,

por vastos mares

do rincão natal separados...

Ouço os combóios e aviões

das odisseias

que me levaram, em vertigens,

p’lo mundo fora

por regiões maravilhosas

umas, não todas,

em busca de sonhos dourados,

saber e amor,

afirmação e dignidade,

na amplitude

dos esconsos da Humanidade...

Recordar é, na verdade, viver,

de novo nascer

para, uma vez mais, na vida

sonhar e amar,

pois a Saudade do amor brota

imparável sempre

para quem amores encontrou

algures em vida...

Amores vivos, imorredouros,

indestrutíveis,

que nem os tempos desvanascem...

Viver a Saudade é amar...

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PUBLICATIONS by the Author:

The Philosophic and Educational Thought of Antero de Quental --- (Doctoral Dissertation) (1968)

University of California, Berkeley, California, USA

Antero de Quental, The Existentialist Poet-Philosopher,

His Philosophy and Educational Thought (1970)

Atelier Gráfico Novotipo, Lisboa, Portugal

Conselho das Comunidades Portuguesas---1981,

Os Orgãos Luso-Americanos de Comunicação Social (1981)

Secretaria de Estado das Comunidades Portuguesas, Lisboa, Portugal

Antero de Quental, Evolução da sua Filosofia Existencialista e do seu Pensamento Pedagógico (1986)

Secretaria Regional dos Assuntos Sociais, Açores, Portugal

Perspectivas Histórico-Sociológicas das Comunidades Luso-Californianas (1986)

II Congresso de Comunidades Açorianas, Terceira, Açores, Portugal

Mais de Um Século de Imprensa Portuguesa na Califórnia (1995)

III Congresso de Comunidades Açorianas, Faial, Açores, Portugal

Ecos Lusíadas no Oeste Americano (1996)