#footer { width:660px; clear:both; margin:0 auto; } #footer hr { display:none; } #footer p { margin:0; padding-top:15px; font:78%/1.6em "Trebuchet MS",Trebuchet,Verdana,Sans-serif; text-transform:uppercase; letter-spacing:.1em; }

quinta-feira, setembro 30, 2004

Alicerçando Poesia #10 - Peter Hammil

I will arise;
in the depths, I will open my eyes;
as my breath almost fails me, survive.

Wait – there’s something unclear
there’s something I fear now drawing close.
Could it be you?
Whose is that voice?
Is it now time to make a choice?
Ah – that irrational pain!
This ridiculous brain now bursts with joy.
Could it me be? Could it be now?
Should I begin to take my vows?

I will return;
as I live, as I breath, as I burn
I swear I will come through
with my hands stretching out in the dark,
with my eye pressed up tight to the glass,
wondering if it’s all been true.


My friends, I never really thought you’d go,
but, then, we know that’s the way it happens here.
Now time is like cat’s cradle in my hands:
we gather up the strands much too slowly.

The refugees are gone... they take their separate paths,
deliberate the past: figures in an ash shroud.
Susie, I guess you’re on your way to be a star,
but I don’t know where you are; the only time I seem
to see you is on the TV.
It’s so easy just to slip away.

In, Chameleon In The Shadow oOf The Night