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-

Seja bem-vindo. Hoje é
Deixe seu comentário, será muito bem-vindo, os poetas agradecem.

domingo, 26 de junho de 2011

The Snow Man

One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;

And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter

Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,

Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place

For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.

Wallace Stevens
(October 2, 1879 – August 2, 1955) was a major American Modernist poet. He was born in Reading, Pennsylvania, educated at Harvard and then New York Law School, and spent most of his life working as a lawyer for the Hartford insurance company in Connecticut.

His best-known poems include "Anecdote of the Jar", "Disillusionment of Ten O'Clock", "The Emperor of Ice-Cream", "The Idea of Order at Key West", "Sunday Morning", "The Snow Man", and "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird", all of which appear in his Collected Poems for which he won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1955.

Um comentário:

Anônimo disse...

I take pleasure in, lead to I discovered just what I used to be taking
a look for. You've ended my 4 day long hunt! God Bless you man. Have a nice day. Bye

my blog post :: compressing swf