sexta-feira, 10 de outubro de 2008

O inexorável ser

Para Charles Trocate

A folha é verde
como você é negro
e eu sou branca.

Suas asas
lhe revoam pelo céu.
Minhas raízes
me agarram às pedras.

Sou orquídea de pedra e
você é besouro de chapada.

O penhasco é íngreme.

Um comentário:

Anônimo disse...

Tragedy:the Goat Song

Beyond control, the fall of rain
Begins as play
And ends as pain.

Beyond control,
The play of pain,
Begins as names
And ends as rain.

Beyond control,
The play of Pan
Begins as ram
And ends as Man.

Beyond control, the fall of rain
Begins as play
And ends as pain.

Beyond control, the fall of man,
Is given,
To rise again
In play and Pan and pain and rain
That he might say,
"Ecce Homo!".

For for all there is a life that must be lived
And part is play and part is pain
But of all the greatest joy
Is to forgive

And be again.