Tuesday, May 1, 2007

T.S.Eliot

Entre a ideia
E a realidade
Entre o movimento
E o acto,
Cai a Sombra
The Hollow man
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1 comment:

Lady Marion said...

"somewhere i have travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near.

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose.

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

Nothing which we are about to percieve in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing.

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
Nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands.
e.e.cummings

May 10, 2007 at 3:28 PM

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