Philosopher's Stone

“They don’t know that ‘the dream’

Is a constant of life

As concrete and defined as every other thing

Like this gray stone where I seat and rest

Like this smooth river in its sober restlessness

Like these pine trees that wiggle in gold and green

Like these birds that shout in a blue drunkenness

(…)

They don’t know, they don’t even dream of it

Each time a man dreams the world leaps forward

Like a colorful ball

Between the hands of a child.”

Forgive me my poor translation of both the beginning and the end of this poem called “The Philosophers Stone”.
This was written by Rómulo de Carvalho, also known by its poetic pseudonym António Gedeão. Known in the Portuguese speaking world that is.
This Man was born in 1906 and died in 1997.
During is life he was a great Man, a poet, a pedagogue, an historian and a museologist.
This particular poem was transposed to music thus becoming one of the songs that inspired so many of us into going a little farther in one way or another.
I had the privilege to hear this man talking. In his old age, at a seminar he had been invited to present.
His speech marked me in a strange way. Everything about that man would send you the same message: go for it, do it for your own sake.
Although my dreams changed a bit since those days, I’ve kept chasing them.
He wasn’t one to tell everybody to become a scientist, but he was the man who told everybody to follow their hearts and their dreams.
I am trying to keep at it.
My thanks to him.