21.1.12


PHILIP LARKIN


Inverno

No campo dois cavalos,
Dois cisnes no rio,
E o vento fustiga
Um baldio onde os cardos
Se juntam como gente;
E de novo os meus pensamentos
São crianças
De rostos inquietos,
Acordam em túmulos
Ocultos e soerguem-se
Sob céus velozes.

O rasto diagonal
Dum cisne na água
É o frio do inverno;
E os cavalos, como paixões
Há muito derrotadas,
Descaem as cabeças
E ai, como me invadem
A mente amortalhada
E resgatam da memória
Os rostos aprisionados —
Aluviões do passado.

Então a charneca inteira
Silva em golpes de vento
E a gente transida
Junta-se como cardos
Num lugar estéril;
E mesmo assim os milagres
Exumam de cada rosto
Fortes sementes sedosas
Que lançam para o estático
Sol de ouro do inverno
Um orgulho sem fim nem sombra.


(in Uma Antologia, tradução de Maria Teresa Caeiro, Fora do Texto, 1989 – Poesia Nosso Tempo / original de The North Ship, 1945)

20.1.12


W. S. MERWIN


The Stranger

After a Guarani legend recorded by Ernesto Morales


One day in the forest there was somebody
who had never been there before
it was somebody like the monkeys but taller
and without a tail and without so much hair
standing up and walking on only two feet
and as he went he heard a voice calling Save me
as the stranger looked he could see a snake
a very big snake with a circle of fire
that was dancing all around it
and the snake was trying to get out
but every way it turned the fire was there
so the stranger bent the trunk of a young tree
and climbed out over the fire until he
could hold a branch down to the snake
and the snake wrapped himself around the branch
and the stranger pulled the snake up out of the fire
and as soon as the snake saw that he was free
he twined himself around the stranger
and started to crush the life out of him
but the stranger shouted No No
I am the one who has just saved your life
and you pay me back by trying to kill me
but the snake said I am keeping the law
it is the law that whoever does good
receives evil in return
and he drew his coils tight around the stranger
but the stranger kept on saying No No
I do not believe that is the law
so the snake said I will show you
I will show you three times and you will see
and he kept his coils tight around the stranger's neck
and all around his arms and body
but he let go of the stranger's legs
Now walk he said to the stranger Keep going
so they started out that way and they came
to a river and the river said to them
I do good to everyone and look what they
do to me I save them from dying of thirst
and all they do is stir up the mud
and fill my water with dead things
the snake said One
the stranger said Let us go on and they did
and they came to a caranda-i palm
there were wounds running with sap on its trunk
and the palm tree was moaning I do good
to everyone and look what they do to me
I give them my fruit and my shade and they cut me
and drink from my body until I die
the snake said Two
the stranger said Let us go on and they did
and came to a place where they heard whimpering
and saw a dog with his paw in a basket
and the dog said I did a good thing
and this is what came of it
I found a jaguar who had been hurt
and I took care of him and he got better
and as soon as he had his strength again
he sprang at me wanting to eat me up
I managed to get away but he tore my paw
I hid in a cave until he was gone
and here in this basket I have
a calabash full of milk for my wound
but now I have pushed it too far down to reach
will you help me he said to the snake
and the snake liked milk better than anything
so he slid off the stranger and into the basket
and when he was inside the dog snapped it shut
and swung it against a tree with all his might
again and again until the snake was dead
and after the snake was dead in there
the dog said to the stranger Friend
I have saved your life
and the stranger took the dog home with him
and treated him the way the stranger would treat a dog

1993


(recebido, em tempos, por email, sem referências à publicação original)

19.1.12


ANTÓNIO RAMOS ROSA


À Morte dum Poeta

Sem ternura
sem pureza
não grito a tua morte apenas violenta
a tua morte apenas violenta ecoa em mim
e já não existo senão escuro e tremo
um pobre corpo atemorizado um coração de vazio
e a vergonha de não ter lágrimas e a ignorância
Estou mais razo do que tu, poeta, a uma mesa de café
mais morto mais falso mais nojento do que tu
e disfarço o silêncio e naturalmente continuo na vida
e rio e fujo e não consigo enterrar-te
não consigo chorar-te
porque o horror violento me desenha o corpo
Tiraste-me a vida e quase te odeio poeta
a minha morte teria sido muito mais insignificante
a minha morte teria sido mais justa
É esta ideia que te não perdoo, esta ideia horrorosa que bebo
esta ideia de que não mereço a tua morte
porque não mereci a tua vida
O que eu odeio é não te ter amado
o que eu odeio é a minha pobre vida e a minha culpa
o que eu odeio é ter ficado
Deixaste-me a responsabilidade tremenda de sobreviver-te
e por isso te amo e por isso descansa, poeta!

11 de Fevereiro de 1952.


(in Árvore – folhas de poesia, Inverno de 1951-52 / número dedicado «à memória de Sebastião da Gama, ao Poeta e ao Amigo que perdemos»)

18.1.12


Talvez nada.

Tão mais incerta é a vida
Quanto a consciência que dela temos.

Levantarmo-nos é ir, a vaga
Sensação de ter ideias,

Sonhos, medo, um futuro.
Talvez o sem fundo de existir

Obrigue a deixar para os outros
O entretém de continuar a sentir

O vazio.