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When I have fears that I have to cease
Ana Cristina CESAR
THE LAND
SLEEPING
You want to sleep: get rid of the noise, and
PORTABLE BARBECUE
Autumn Leaves
LOVING SMILE - 57
BEACHCOMBER
Golgona Anghel
PAINTING
THE IMPRECISE MELANCHOLY
CHEERS!
Baking Paper Poem
LOVING SMILE - 56
REACH
Convergence
IN DEFENSE OF NOTHING
THE FIRST LOOK
THE REVOLT OF THE BIRD HUNTERS
UNREAL HOUSE
TWILIGHT
WARNING SIGNAL
At the B and B
SERENADE TO RAIN
Wet pebbles
USELESS POEM WITH MOUNTAIN
YOU SPEND THE NIGHT ON ME
There are dreams...
SKY BURIAL
UNDER THE FIG TREE
NOBODY IS GUILTY
See also...
Group of the Visual Poets (2 photos/day, no invite needed :)
Group of the Visual Poets (2 photos/day, no invite needed :)
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LONELINESS
So many stones are thrown at me,
They no longer scare.
Fine, now, is the snare,
Among high towers a high tower.
I thank its builders: may
They never need a friend.
Here I can see the sun rise earlier
And see the glory of the day's end.
And often into the window of my room
Fly the winds of a northern sea,
A dove eats wheat from my hands…
And the Muse's sunburnt hand
Divinely light and calm
Finishes the unfinished page.
///
SOLIDÃO
Tantas pedras me são atiradas,
Não mais me assustam.
Bem, agora, é a armadilha,
Uma torre alta entre torres altas.
Agradeço aos seus construtores: nunca
Eles precisem duma amiga.
Daqui posso ver o sol nascer mais cedo
E a glória do fim do dia.
E muitas vezes na janela do meu quarto
Sopram os ventos do mar do norte,
Uma pomba come trigo das minhas mãos…
E a mão da Musa queimada pelo sol
Divinamente leve e calma
Acaba a página inacabada.
by Anna AKHAMATOVA (1889-1966), from "WHITE FLOCK", in "SELECTED POEMS", Edited by The Folio Society, London, 2016
(Portuguese translated by Armando TABORDA, 2019)
(photograph by Pavel LUKNITSKY, 1925; edited by Armando TABORDA)
They no longer scare.
Fine, now, is the snare,
Among high towers a high tower.
I thank its builders: may
They never need a friend.
Here I can see the sun rise earlier
And see the glory of the day's end.
And often into the window of my room
Fly the winds of a northern sea,
A dove eats wheat from my hands…
And the Muse's sunburnt hand
Divinely light and calm
Finishes the unfinished page.
///
SOLIDÃO
Tantas pedras me são atiradas,
Não mais me assustam.
Bem, agora, é a armadilha,
Uma torre alta entre torres altas.
Agradeço aos seus construtores: nunca
Eles precisem duma amiga.
Daqui posso ver o sol nascer mais cedo
E a glória do fim do dia.
E muitas vezes na janela do meu quarto
Sopram os ventos do mar do norte,
Uma pomba come trigo das minhas mãos…
E a mão da Musa queimada pelo sol
Divinamente leve e calma
Acaba a página inacabada.
by Anna AKHAMATOVA (1889-1966), from "WHITE FLOCK", in "SELECTED POEMS", Edited by The Folio Society, London, 2016
(Portuguese translated by Armando TABORDA, 2019)
(photograph by Pavel LUKNITSKY, 1925; edited by Armando TABORDA)
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