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A mostrar mensagens de Junho 27, 2004
Sophia
(1919 - 2004)


Naquele Tempo

Sob o caramachão de glicínia lilaz
As abelhas e eu
Tontas de perfume

Lá no alto as abelhas
Doiradas e pequenas
Não se ocupavam de mim
Iam de flor em flor
E cá em baixo eu
Sentada no banco de azulejos
Entre penumbra e luz
Flor e perfume
Tão ávida como as abelhas


Sophia de Mello Breyner Andresen, Abril de 98
O me! O life!

O Me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring;
Of the endless trains of the faithless - of cities fill’d with the foolish;
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light - of the objects mean - of the struggle ever renew’d;
Of the poor results of all - of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me;
Of the empty and useless years of the rest - with the rest me intertwined;
The question, O me! so sad, recurring - What good amid these, O me, O life?

Answer
That you are here - that life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.



Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass