A memória

Não envenenem mais
o peso
das coisas sem idade.

amorosamente repousadas,
levemente esquecidas,
levemente lembradas

- um lago calmo
de águas densas e paradas.


Alberto Soares, in «Arpose»

Ingmar Bergman, Saraband, 2003

Sad Steps

Groping back to bed after a piss
I part thick curtains, and am startled by
The rapid clouds, the moon's cleanliness.

Four o'clock: wedge-shadowed gardens lie
Under a cavernous, a wind-picked sky.
There's something laughable about this,

The way the moon dashes trough clouds that blow
Loosely as cannon-smoke to stand apart
(Stone-coloured light sharpening the roofs below)

High and preposterous and separate -
Lozenge of love! Medallion of art!
O wolves of memory! Immensements! No,

One shivers slightly, looking up there.
The hardness and the brigntness and the plain
Far-reaching singleness of that wide stare

Is a reminder of the strength and pain
Of being young; that it can't come again,
But is for others undiminished somewhere.

Philip Larkin, Sad Steps, in dark matter poems of space,
selecção de Maurice Riordan e Jocelyn Bell Burnell, Ed. Fundação Calouste Gulbenkian, p.65