Sanuma in English

In English
Sanuma, Flor do Sonho
In a realm where bees loaded with nectar take their repose upon flowers everywhere, there never lived so pretty and fragrant a flower as Sanuma, who was known as Flor do Sonho, which means Flower of Dreams. She was beautiful and gracious like a great tree who opens her dense mantle of delicate leaves and offers her shelter and delicious fruit to all. An Indian whose beauty made other women seem vulgar, shaming the vanity of them all.
Despite her prayers, Sanuma had never met a man who interested her, for they were all disgraceful, useless and vain, swollen with pride and hard on the eyes. One day, tired of her solitude, Sanuma told her father: “Great Master and Father Ianoama, Chief of the Lineage of Ianomami, I know I must show you obedience, but I desire to meet my destiny. I will depart and not return until I find my companion.
Her father did not object. He thought of the great station of her birth and also the prolonged period of peace and confraternity with the neighboring tribes. Finding no obstacles, Ianoama permitted his daughter’s departure. He selected an entourage to accompany her: a guide, a hunter, a visionary who had the ability to communicate in all languages of humans, plants and animals, to send messages through dreams and Xama Shypaia, a shaman of great renown in all of the Amazon jungle.
Imbued with her desire and longing, Sanuma searched the greater part of the various tribes and villages to find someone to quench her thirst for love. She resolved to explore beyond the limits of her realm and into the mountains swollen with the most dense jungles known. She entered the millennial jungle where roots were long and every tree curved under the weight of their abundant blossoms, which oscillated delicately in the air of the Gods.
There she met the Bara Tribe, who withdrew to the heart of the jungle after Chief Kina lost his vision and came to lead his tribe by sense of smell. When she saw the warrior and hunter Ninam, son of Kina, they gazed into each other’s eyes, one to the other, each desiring to look for eternity; Sanuma immediately perceived in the eyes of Ninam that her search had ended.
One week together was more than sufficient for Sanuma to hold the most absolute conviction that Ninam was the answer to all her questions, the destiny of all her travels. In turn, Ninam at once recognized in Sanuma a path to paradise tread only by Gods. There could never be, while on the face of the Earth, any separation between them.
Sanuma returned to tell her father of her decision to take Ninam as her companion and her intention to live in the heart of the jungle. Ianoama at first only despaired to think of the separation from his only daughter, but found peace because he knew that courage that is nourished by the heart is unbeatable. He called on Shypaia the Shaman who had accompanied Sanuma’s quest, and demanded information about Ninam.
“Ianoama,” said Shypaia, “He was born in the heart of the jungle where he has lived ever since. His father’s name is Kina, Chief of the Bara Tribe. He is kind hearted and loyal. Beautiful like the moon, he possessed the energy and vigor of the sun. He is generous like Gaia, and has the courage of a jaguar cub, and at once as patient as Time. He possessed only one defect and none other: In exactly one year, Ninam shall die.”
The chief met with his daughter and revealed to her the words of Shypaia and suggested that she change her mind.
“Don’t marry into misery daughter.”
Sanuma countered, “There is no other choice my father. Whether his life is short or long, I will take Ninam as my heart’s companion.”
Faced with his daughter’s determination, Ianoama fell quiet and owing to the small time remaining in the life of his future son-in-law, he quickly set aside preparations for the following morning. He would accompany his daughter on her return to the heart of the jungle in order to partake of the festivities to join the couple in marriage. Chief Kina was first to notice the return of Sanuma, her voice joyful and soft like the song of a bird at daybreak, a thread in the wind, until audible to Kina. How will a girl so sweet be able to live in a jungle so dense?
“Ninam my son, explain to your old father. How will you support her to live in the jungle?”
“My wise father, she knows as well as I, how joy and sorrow follow their course where ever we are. Don’t shame me my father. Don’t destroy the girl’s hopes.”
The impetus of passion disturbs the mind and only Time manages to release our hearts. Love is more difficult to catch than a hummingbird. Thereof Kina and Ianoama both knew and without delay completed the ceremony of the union of their children. When best is joined to best, happiness cannot be avoided. Replete with love and gracious days when joy was always near, the remaining year of Ninam’s life passed as quickly as a falling star. Who better knows the idleness of Time than a victim of Love?
Sanuma kept her secret to herself and only rested to count the days that flowed like sand through the fingers. Until alone she would finally rest.
The day before Death’s approach, Sanuma did not fall asleep; she passed the night alert to observe her husband until he awoke.
She made him coffee in the morning. She presented abiu, fruit bread, honey of Jatai, macaranduba ripe, graviola sweet like the morning breeze, sunflower seeds toasted in the sun, and cashews roasted over firewood of Ipe. Sanuma couldn’t eat anything; her thoughts continued to wander as if in a room where a tablet on the door read, “TODAY IS THE DAY.”
When the sun was one hand high, Ninam decided to go on a hunt. At Sanuma’s insistence, she accompanied him and tried to change his plans. Instead of the hunt, Ninam agreed to catch some fish at the waterfall together with her.
The dense steep trails between the hills revealed views through the soft, bright sun that penetrated the deep jungle. After they crossed two hills of considerable scale, before them emerged the waterfalls of Jeribucacu, a magic river, a bond of love between two oceans. But that is another story and now we are telling the drama of Sanuma, Flor do Sonho, and of her brave encounter with Yama, Sir Death. He whom one should flee and avoid at all peril.
We return to Jeribucacu and its rapids, the biggest waterfall of the millennial jungle. With its warm water and ores of gilded hue, it was an ostensible invitation to dive in.
They jumped, they swam, and played. Eternity never held such a time on the planet as that moment between the two. Ah, Eternity. She keeps her roots away from the reaches of men. Yama, meanwhile, attended to the happiness of the couple. A happiness that could make orchids bloom in the desert. Unaware of the spectators, full of sweetness, Sanuma observed all the nuances of Ninam’s spirit.
When he got out of the water, Ninam felt a chill. He dried his body with a cloth extracted from the Pe de Marcela., and felt a headache. He lay down at Sanuma’s bosom. The light disturbed and burned his eyes. Perceiving this, Sanuma shaded him with her face and this shade permitted Ninam his last vision: the intense light of Sanuma’s eyes.
At the close of his eyes, his face twisted and blanched for a moment. Shortly, the color returned to his face and with his head on Sanuma, Ninam serenely went to sleep. Sanuma with a sad, rhythmic voice murmured homage of love and agony to the Indian who stole her soul and quiet.
From inside the jungle a tall, strong man observed Sanuma with fixed, dark eyes. Suddenly Sanuma noticed his brilliant spark like the reflection of sun on a lake in a scintillating painting, like jewels and pearls covering his body. Yama emerged from the jungle like the moon over the sea, majestic and clothed all in white. He cast upon Ninam a look of great patience and grace and this calmed Sanuma.
“Much lived and seldom seen is He,” said Yama, “the Eternal planter of flowers and thorns in our path, the God of Love.” With his arrows with tips in bloom, tracing the most mighty arc of the world. Though they may have been made from sugar cane and a cord no thicker than the thread of a spider’s web, these arrows carry the venom of the magic enchantment of love. Yama’s words surprised and charmed Sanuma agreeably. Fearing no one, Sanuma declared her surprise:
“I always imagined you were a woman!”
“No my dear!” Women convey Life because they carry more knowledge of Curatives to pass on. Men take it away. We must be allowed some masculine traits derived from inherited, ancestral violence, often recalled in sporting tournaments, survival hunts, and countless wars. Men always bring forth Death, in as much as women flourish Life.
“Sir Death, I am Sanuma.”
Yama smiled and responded tenderly.
“I know you both, Flor do Sonho, from a long time ago. I remember past lives, but you do not. But now the arrow has lanced my tutelage. Ninam’s days are complete and I came to seek him. Yama placed a hand on Ninam’s chest over the heart and plucked his soul, a being not bigger than his hand, that Yama fastened with his lasso. When Ninam’s soul had been captured, his body respired no more. Yama returned toward the jungle, but Sanuma followed, walking at his side.
“Go, Flor Do Sonho, and prepare the funeral.”
I’ve heard a saying that you were the first man to die who found the path of life that could not be caught again.
“It’s true,” said Yama, “But go back now Flor do Sonho. You cannot follow me there now. You are free of any commitment or bond with Ninam.”
“Everyone that is born must one day follow your Sir. Allow me to accompany you just a little more as a friend.”
Yama stopped and turned slowly to look at Sanuma. Her golden body emitted the scent of an orchid in the mists of spring. He recalled the couple infinitely happy just a few hours before at the waterfall.
“You are right Flor do Sonho, you do not fear me. I accept – as a friend, and in exchange, accept a gift from me, that I humbly offer. But I cannot bring back Ninam’s life.”
“The friendship is consummated after only eleven footsteps together.” Said Sanuma, “That Kina be rid of his blindness.”
“It’s already gone. Now go back for you are tired.”
“Not even a little. I was with Ninam to the last minute. Grant me permission to walk with you a little more.”
“I grant it. I always take away. But it is good to be able to give. It is not difficult to give. When life ends and all needs are met one understands that to give is not difficult.”
They walked toward the North. They cam to the edge of a spring and Yama gave a drink to Sanuma right from his hand. He offered Sanuma visions of other lives. Past or future, she hand only to choose. Gently Sanuma refused the offer.
“During life, Sanuma, there is pain, but no more in death. That which is met with difficulty is worthy to receive. I have seen it all. And, I conclude that this water is no more pure than your heart. You fight for what you desire, decide, choose your way and don’t give in. You do not desire to be anyone else. You have a lot that I’ve never seen before. You can make another request Sanuma, anything, except the life of Ninam.”
“That my father Ianoma lives long in Jatoba and has one hundred sons.”
“He will,” assured Yama, “But ask me something else, something for you. Anything but the life of Ninam.”
Sanuma responded. “That I also have one hundred sons with my husband.”
Yama stopped before an Itabirapitanga Milenar and had to contemplate it. Sanuma did not know what impressed Yama more, her words or the gigantic tree with the huge red trunk.
“Flor do Sonho, without thinking, answer me. And tell the truth. How will you have sons with Ninam if he is dead? But you did not think of that. . .”
“No”
“I know. But he does not have more life in him. It’s all over.”
“All the same, Sir, I ask for nothing less. I, who am half dead, do not ask so much of the sky.”
Yama sighed.
“Two things keep men from knowing for certain what they must do, one is desire, which blinds the intelligence and chills courage, the other is fear, which noting danger, prefers inertia to action. Favor is never lost on a man of truth. I am absolutely impartial to all men. I, more than anyone know truth and justice. I know that all past and all future are united in truth. How much value is your life without Ninam?”
“Nothing Sir, without happiness, human life does not merit the name Life.”
“Do you surrender to me half your days on Earth?”
“Yes, they are yours. “
“What does it mean to die, young or old, when you can say with total reason that you have never lived? You cannot speak of life when you have not tasted the pleasures of life.”
Suddenly Yama directed his view profoundly at Sanuma. She felt the weight of his eyes on her body. At last, Yama said:
“It is done. For love is stronger than death; longer than life is the longing of the beloved. I took your days and delivered your husband as he was. Do you want me to tell you the number of these days?”
“No. No one knows better than I the anguish of seeing Time race desperately in your direction.”
“The spirit of Ninam rests with you, Flor do Sonho. It will be for you to take it to return. But before you leave, keep me company for a little and I will teach you the work of the deadly arms of the Gods.”
Sanuma learned many mantras and incantations. Mantras that can pull the soul out of the body and place it exposed and pulsing in the palm of your hand. Yama revealed his true name to Sanuma but advised that she never pronounce it indiscriminately because it could cause unimaginable destruction. If it is revealed all virtue and all that can be put in words would disappear instantly and forever. Next Sanuma discovered everything known to the Shipaya and was entrusted with incorporation of this knowledge in the millennial wisdom of the secrets of the Xamas.
Yama said farewell to Sanuma and continued alone, through the Realm of Death, like a lasso that grasps nothing. It was already dark when Sanuma traveled through a dark, sinister wood where the leaves murmured ferociously in the night wind. Ninam’s corpse was preserved frozen in the starlight. She put her husband’s head on her bosom and warmed his skin with her tender body. Ninam opened his eyes and looked at Sanuma with a joy that contained a look that could quench a deep yearning.
“I passed the day sleeping my Flower. I had a strange dream in which I went away on a narrow path.”
“That happened,” said Sanuma.
“It wasn’t a dream?”
“Ninam I can only speak for myself, but never for you. Let’s talk when we get home.”
Yama who had returned, hidden alone in the forest to see the couple reunite, before leaving them, turned his view to the dense darkness of the forest and said:
“Why do you stare at me Eternity? Do you find I have lost judgment with old age? This couple conveyed all that could be said of the true ecstasy of life. To try to repress this love would be like draining a whirlpool from its stream. Why is there always indecision and doubt in matters of Love?”
From the darkness came Eternity wrapped in his virtually impenetrable disguise. He walked together with Yama. The descended and sat upon a steep riverbank.
It is in the rays of the moon that exist at night that we attend to the true heart of all that exists. Eternity smiled like the river that flowed before them. A pleasant smile brightened his face.
“Men do not present their Paper on Earth to that which does and says,” said Yama, “so much as to that which is. The true warrior is conscious of his harmony with the path. For an intense TO BE is realized in a more extensive TO DO. Without this essence, without this light, man can see all things external and comprehend nothing, just as an illiterate can page the great books of humanity and understand nothing.”
“You don’t have to justify anything to me Yama. I have some motives for Love, she is my old friend of another life and she went with me before a little falling out. The bird that leans soon takes flight. But clarify one thing for me Yama: What in this crazy life is made like the human heart?”
“Life is like hot iron, malleable, ready to be shaped. Choose the mold and Life will kindle the fire. External acts do not have true valor, except for the internal attitudes. To be a benefactor of humanity, it is only necessary to be good.”
Yama brushed away dust in the wind, felt over a falling of large leaves on the grass and advanced a question to Eternity.
“And you, who despise Time, are you not weary to exist?”
“Time is an endless ocean, but where does it meet one island? Life passes and is unstable. Sometimes, Yama, when I hear the wind pass and only for sound does it pass, I find that it is worthwhile to exist. I take the natural egoism of the flowers who are preoccupied only with flowering.”
“Eternity, you who are more experienced than I, and who travels beyond my departure, remove one doubt: Does anyone know the Future?”
“No one knows the Future, Yama. Like you I have patience and hope that He sees to my meeting. The past is uninhabitable, but the light of dusk illumines the reflections of all the centuries; I have for companionship the Present, a unique moment in which people can create and recreate our path to our image and likeness and wear all the colors, taste all the flavors, and gather all the love without preconception or longing. Age that is fleeting in life is called unique and exclusively Present and takes the duration of an instant to pass. Life resides in an instant. Do not lose even an instant, face all you desire quickly, for happiness is as ephemeral as the drying dew off summer. And no one said more.
The din of a soft melody from a brook hovered above the profound silence that fell in every part where before the sounds could reach, and everything fell dark as midnight, quiet and tranquil as when a God sleeps.