Respostas ao tópico: Gabriela Mistral

Mendigo.

Los Sonetos de La Muerte - I

Del nicho helado en que los hombres te pusieron,
te bajaré a la tierra humilde y soleada.
Que he de dormirme en ella los hombres no supieron,
y que hemos de soñar sobre la misma almohada.

Te acostaré en la tierra soleada con una
dulcedumbre de madre para el hijo dormido,
y la tierra ha de hacerse suavidades de cuna
al recibir tu cuerpo de niño dolorido,

Luego iré espolvoreando tierra y polvo de rosas,
y en la azulada y leve polvoreda de luna,
los despojos livianos irán quedando presos.

Me alejaré cantando mis venganzas hermosas,
¡porque a ese hondor recóndito la mano de ninguna
bajará a disputarme tu puñado de huesos!

Gabriela Mistral

22:08 - 16/08/2007 Apagar

Mendigo.

Los Sonetos de La Muerte - II

Este largo cansancio se hará mayor un día,
y el alma dirá al cuerpo que no quiere seguir
arrastrando su masa por la rosada vía,
por donde van los hombres, contentos de vivir...

Sentirás que a tu lado caban briosamente,
que otra dormida llega a la quieta ciudad.
Esperaré que me hayan cubierto totalmente...
¡y después hablaremos por una eternidad!

Sólo entonces sabrás el por qué no madura
para las hondas huesas tu carne todavía,
tuviste que bajar, sin fatiga, a dormir.

Se hará luz en la zona de los sinos, oscura:
sabrás que en nuestra alianza signo de astros había
y, roto el pacto enorme, tenías que morir...

Gabriela Mistral

22:08 - 16/08/2007 Apagar

Mendigo.

Los Sonetos de La Muerte - V

Yo elejí entre los otros, soberbios i gloriosos,
este destino, aqueste oficio de ternura,
un poco Temerario, acaso tenebroso.
de ser un jaramago sobre su sepultura.

Los hombres pasan, pasan, esprimiendo en la boca
una canción alegre i siempre renovada
que ahora es lasciva, y mañana la loca,
i más tarde la mística. Yo elejí esta invariada.

Canción con la que arrullo un muerto que fue ajeno
en toda realidad, i en todo ensueño, mío;
que gustó de otra boca, descansó en otro seno.

Pero que en esta hora definitiva i larga.
Sólo el del labio humilde, del jaramago
que le hace el dormir dulce sobre la tierra amarga.

Gabriela Mistral

22:09 - 16/08/2007 Apagar

Maya , a crédula

Estou apaixonada por Gabriela Mistral... Obrigada!

19:03 - 13/09/2007 Apagar

Mendigo.

Eu não Sinto a Solidão

É a noite desamparo
das montanhas ao oceano.
Porém eu, a que te ama,
eu não sinto a solidão.
É todo o céu desamparo,
mergulha a lua nas ondas.
Porém eu, a que te embala,
eu não sinto a solidão.
É o mundo desamparo,
triste a carne em abandono
Porém eu, a que te embala,
eu não sinto a solidão.

14:34 - 22/09/2007 Apagar

Mendigo.

Ceras Eternas



Ah! nunca mais conhecerá tua boca
a vergonha do beijo que espumava
concupiscência como espessa lava!
Voltam a ser duas pétalas nascentes
impregnadas de novo mel, os lábios
que sonhei inocentes.
Ah! nunca mais conhecerão teus braços
o mundo horrível que em meus dias pôs
escuro horror: o nó de um outro abraço.
Pelo sossego puro
sob a terra ficaram estendidos
já, Deus meu! Seguros.
Agora cegas, nunca mais tuas pupilas
terão um rosto impudente e rubro
de lascívia, nos seus espelhos refletidos!
Benditas ceras fortes,
ceras geladas, ceras eternais
e duras, da morte!
Bendito toque sábio
com que selaram olhos, com que amarraram braços,
com que juntaram lábios!
Benditas ceras!
já não brasa de beijos luxuriosos
que vos quebrem, desgastem ou derretam!

14:35 - 22/09/2007 Apagar

Mendigo.

The Hope Of My Heart

"Delicta juventutis et ignorantius ejus, quoesumus ne memineris, Domine."



I left, to earth, a little maiden fair,
With locks of gold, and eyes that shamed the light;
I prayed that God might have her in His care
And sight.

Earth's love was false; her voice, a siren's song;
(Sweet mother-earth was but a lying name)
The path she showed was but the path of wrong
And shame.

"Cast her not out!" I cry. God's kind words come --
"Her future is with Me, as was her past;
It shall be My good will to bring her home
At last."

John McCrae

12:10 - 05/06/2009 Apagar

Mendigo.

Comfort

SPEAK low to me, my Saviour, low and sweet
From out the hallelujahs, sweet and low
Lest I should fear and fall, and miss Thee so
Who art not missed by any that entreat.
Speak to mo as to Mary at thy feet !
And if no precious gums my hands bestow,
Let my tears drop like amber while I go
In reach of thy divinest voice complete
In humanest affection -- thus, in sooth,
To lose the sense of losing. As a child,
Whose song-bird seeks the wood for evermore
Is sung to in its stead by mother's mouth
Till, sinking on her breast, love-reconciled,
He sleeps the faster that he wept before.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

12:10 - 05/06/2009 Apagar

Mendigo.

April Love

We have walked in Love's land a little way,
We have learnt his lesson a little while,
And shall we not part at the end of day,
With a sigh, a smile?

A little while in the shine of the sun,
We were twined together, joined lips forgot
How the shadows fall when day is done,
And when Love is not.

We have made no vows - there will none be broke,
Our love was free as the wind on the hill,
There was no word said we need wish unspoke,
We have wrought no ill.

So shall we not part at the end of day,
Who have loved and lingered a little while,
Join lips for the last time, go our way,
With a sigh, a smile.

Ernest Christopher Dowson

12:11 - 05/06/2009 Apagar

Mendigo.

Alone, Looking for Blossoms Along the River

The sorrow of riverside blossoms inexplicable,
And nowhere to complain -- I've gone half crazy.
I look up our southern neighbor. But my friend in wine
Gone ten days drinking. I find only an empty bed.

A thick frenzy of blossoms shrouding the riverside,
I stroll, listing dangerously, in full fear of spring.
Poems, wine -- even this profusely driven, I endure.
Arrangements for this old, white-haired man can wait.

A deep river, two or three houses in bamboo quiet,
And such goings on: red blossoms glaring with white!
Among spring's vociferous glories, I too have my place:
With a lovely wine, bidding life's affairs bon voyage.

12:12 - 05/06/2009 Apagar

Mendigo.

Continuando...

A deep river, two or three houses in bamboo quiet,
And such goings on: red blossoms glaring with white!
Among spring's vociferous glories, I too have my place:
With a lovely wine, bidding life's affairs bon voyage.

Looking east to Shao, its smoke filled with blossoms,
I admire that stately Po-hua wineshop even more.
To empty golden wine cups, calling such beautiful
Dancing girls to embroidered mats -- who could bear it?

12:13 - 05/06/2009 Apagar

Mendigo.

Continuando...

East of the river, before Abbot Huang's grave,
Spring is a frail splendor among gentle breezes.
In this crush of peach blossoms opening ownerless,
Shall I treasure light reds, or treasure them dark?

At Madame Huang's house, blossoms fill the paths:
Thousands, tens of thousands haul the branches down.
And butterflies linger playfully -- an unbroken
Dance floating to songs orioles sing at their ease.

I don't so love blossoms I want to die. I'm afraid,
Once they are gone, of old age still more impetuous.
And they scatter gladly, by the branchful. Let's talk
Things over, little buds ---open delicately, sparingly.

Tu Fu

12:13 - 05/06/2009 Apagar