29.1.07
Poemas favoritos XXXV
Favorite poems XXXV
Os Castellos
Fernando Pessoa
A Europa jaz, posta nos cotovellos:
De Oriente a Occidente jaz, fitando,
E toldam-lhe romanticos cabellos
Olhos gregos, lembrando.
O cotovello esquerdo é recuado;
O direito é em angulo disposto.
Aquelle diz Italia onde é pousado;
Este diz Inglaterra onde, afastado,
A mão sustenta, em que se appoia o rosto.
Fita, com olhar sphyngico e fatal,
O Occidente, futuro do passado.
O rosto com que fita é Portugal.
***
Premonition of WinterHugh Maxton
We have come to love this coastline. Clearly
the cobbles here are looser than in town
and the dust is crystalline. We nearly
think another world begins or, grown
casual, imagine seas and channels
separate us from the work-a-day mass.
But these rocks are the more ancient hells,
the acid coves and strands of powdered glass.
In Antrim sheep were bled dry by a beast
not known to man but intimate with glands
and arteries. A whale skidded at least
twelve yards ashore against the rush of land.
In the town they talk of peace and justice
but have never known the sea turn to ice.
