A alma é um cenário.
Por vezes, ela é como uma manhã brilhante e fresca,
inundada de alegria.
Por vezes ela é como um pôr do sol...
triste e nostálgico.

-Rubem Alves-

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sexta-feira, 16 de maio de 2008

"Again Winter"

Again Winter. Again Winterwind: Against-wind.
Again to the grave in his windingsheet
the body of love so that it lives through to the spring

The twig not yet ready
again from the tree of hope
it broke off it broke

the broken twig sweeps
rootless and useless and sightless through lanes and drains in the
Again in the wind
split the seams of pictures so cheap
flutter in tatters the songs in a hurry
fly away nocturnal birds so holy:
Jacob misses his hour.

Again against the wind
bent and blind words drag themselves
words without hosts
wander into their winter.

Curly from clouds
drops drowsiness
softly wintering on weary lashes
and snowing up the withered mouth
so that when the bridal time is nearing
again it greens in the wind of spring

Hans Werner Cohn
Translated by Frederick G Cohn

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