24.1.07
Poemas favoritos XXXI
Favorite poems XXXI
De Cadernos de João
Aníbal M. Machado
Os que não acumulam
E são os mais ricos
Os que ignoram o espelho
E são os mais belos
Os que não choram e são tristes
Os que não dançam e são alegres
Os que são fortes e nem se lembram
Os que mais parecem irmãos
Das águas, bichos, árvores e pedras...
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The TigerWilliam Blake
Tiger! Tiger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder, and what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? and what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tiger! Tiger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
