Constraint me with your love
Átrio dos Gentios
Removing a po the secular dust
"because there is no truth in him. When he speaketh a lie, he speaketh of his own: for
he is a liar, and the father of it."

                                                                                          Joh 8, 44
Eufrasio’s key

If you have questions about the existence of God, the purpose of life and things like these, the
following statement maybe useful ...

Let’s imagine that you are Eufrásio, nice name, huh? Some time ago, I, in a bad temper, threw
Eufrásio in a town called, Eurásio… Eufrasio in the world of Eurasio, terrible, isn’t it?

Well, Eufrásio found everything strange but two months later he realized that it was worse than
imagined. He realized that the whole town was a liar. He was sure of this when trying to buy a simple
and characteristic fish he liked. Each time and every place he tried to buy that fish by the name he
knew, he received another type of fish. He realized that to the same fish, several names were given.

This was stressful for Eufrásio, who decided to leave the city. As at this point he did not believe
anyone he took the main road and went ahead,  feeling confident that he  would get  somewhere out of
town. Upon reaching the limit, he found direction plates, but all paths just would bring him back to the
city center. He tried North, South and East. To the west, he saw clearly a plate that said “Leave
Eurasio." Feeling confident, he followed this and came upon a cliff where the garbage of the city was
deposited, all he had to do was just to follow the odor trail. There was nothing on the opposite edge of
the garbage field, except fences and slopes.

After this sad event, Eufrásio spent time trying to understand that city, the first thing he realized was
that there were two types of people in town, some were like him, liked to ask questions, and the
others, never asked anything about that strange city and its tendency to falsity.

Eufrásio realized that the ones who used to ask questions were better that the others, they looked
more confident in their statements, so, he tried to be among them. Therefore, when he tried to ask
them about the city exit, their statements were wrong and unpleasant. At best, they responded with
questions, leave? What for. Where to? Why? And things like these.

Then, he realized that among the questioners, there was another group, even smaller, he called them
“the Ethical ones”, because they looked like so. These people used to wonder about the city and its
posture, they were kind and hardworking. A little bit of  Eufrásio’s loneliness disappeared

Since they were interested and reflexive people, they usually had good character and were pious.
Since Eufrásio got their confidence, he started asking him many questions. And, of course, to the best
ones, he asked, “How can someone leave this city”, but they did not know the answer.

One day, one of them, told him a secret, that he knew the city exit, but that he had to keep that secret,
after  leaving and returning, this, in private, he told him how he could leave there, but he said that this
could not be told to anyone else.

Eufrásio kept in mind every single detail which would take him to the dreamed exit from that insane

At a certain day and time, he got on the road, but no road was the right way, it was worse, not even the
narrow passages or the alleys could take him any further from where he had left.

If there was something consistent in that place that was the entrenched roads leading everyone and
everything to the same central place, the central monument of the Eurasian hero, who fought bravely
against the disruptive forces (as asserted in the plates) outside the cities.

Soon after this frustrating day, he found the poor "friend" that by noticing him, ran away, before even
hearing any quarrel or regret. He ran away like a rat when it sees the light.

In that square, there was a big statue of a hero, on a bench, he sat very frustrated for one, two, three
and more days… on the fourth day, a gentleman (which name I won’t mention), sat beside him.

There was no reason to talk; Eufrásio did not want to talk to anybody else from that city.

He shouted a cry of anger then that sir felt touched. Between "What’s wrong my friend?”  and  "How
can I be useful?," came a slight thread of trust, based mainly on his despair and distress, then that
gentleman told about the evil nature of the city and its spirit of falsehood. He made a brief description
about each type of resident, lined his views on those who do not ask questions, those whom the
gentleman called winded because all they needed was a wind to give them direction. As to the
second ones, the unethical inquirers, he called them the great ones, because they were happy with
their certainties, they had an answer for everything, and then they laughed together.

Finally, the ethical ones, which were called sad or regrettable. The old man was pleased with
Eufrásio’s definiton, choosing his definitions to his own.  The old man breathed and said, boy, you are
lucky for you found someone who finally will tell you the truth. Indiferent, Eufrásio let himself to hear the
“Each of them has become a liar for their own advantage. They are the kind of people that lie to steal
somebody, all the time and, about everything, to go away from reality.

Eufrásio got admired with these and other things which the old man spoke, but kept intrigated, nobody
in that city had ever told him something  true, totally true, every body told him some kind of lie, why
would with this man be different? And what kind of interest motivated that old man?

Evething I’ve heard is consistent, but can I be sure that you don’t have any kind of hidden motivation to
get something from me, too? I’m fed up with you all and this city. The old man assured that he was
different, because what he knew, he knew from a virtuous man, who had told him which was the key to
decipher that place.
The word “decipher” pleased Eufrásio’s ears, just to make him say “that’s enough”
He wouldn’t be cheated again.

“I’m not lying”, said the man, “the difference is that I have a way to prove this to you”. He stared at the
old man.

So, prove it, said him to the one who he had hear. Yes, I can prove it, with a condition… Eufrásio
decided to accept a “yes”, under any circumstance.

“And what is the condition?”  If one day someone haunted with the same questions cross your path,
you must teach him what I taught you and give the same proof, otherwise you will be definetly doomed
to be like everyone else, without any hope of return.

Eufrásio agreed, and then the old man asked him to come back next day, at noon, at the same place,
under that pathetic statue.

Eufrásio, so anxious, arrived first; his hope could be measured with the question which he quit asking
and which he could ask as soon as the old man proved him the truth, the so dreamed question,
“Where is the exit from Eurásio”

The old man arrived with a no small stourage of people. Thirty, fifty or, who knows, a hundred people.
The old man stood up on a bench, looked at Eufrásio with tenderness…both recognized each other,
and in a very proper way, celebrated the agreement.

The old man started a very exalted discuss against lies, the lie of every human being there, their
selfishness, their artful way of lying and cheat themselves and others.

The people were speechless, astonished, the silence was only broken in the first boo, which followed
the second and third after the first action against the old man, others followed, in which the people
seized upon the old man, the young Eufrásio walked away, but without taking his eyes from the terrible

And under the gaze of Eufrásio, the people were leaving and abandoning the lifeless body on the floor

Marcos Mingra

Translated from Portuguese to English by Carlos Cavalcanti
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