A querida vó Maura

Neta de quem faz pasquim
Poderia eu negar minha vocação
Fui provocada desde cedo assim
E hoje só posso seguir nessa canção

Assim sou filha das estrofes e dos versos
Que veio poemas que aprendi com o coração
E outros tanto, li em livros mais diversos
Mas não eram eles que davam vida onde tinha solidão

Quem me vivifica é o poema dos que vivem
E longe estão daquelas cadeiras
São poetas de primeira e dizem
Coisas mais lindas do que os da academia brasileira

Repito, são os poemas vividos
Que brotam da alma e simplesmente saem
Falam dos amores sonhados e outros tidos
E sempre que balbucio as lagrimas caem

São os poemas de Maura, em forma de pasquim
Enchiam minhas tardes, minha alma e me fazem mais poeta
E foi deles que desejei ser assim
Eu pequena, e a poesia minha grande meta

Tyger Tyger

Very interesting and very nice



The Tyger

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright,
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire in thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, and what art?
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand, and what dread feet?

What the hammer? What the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb, make thee?

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright,
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry? 


Source:[ Tyger Tyger Burning Bright ]
Only using source, very nice poem

Sonnet XXIII

As an unperfect actor on the stage,
Who with his fear is put beside his part,
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,
Whose strength's abundance weakens his own heart;
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
The perfect ceremony of love's rite,
And in mine own love's strength seem to decay,
O'ercharged with burthen of mine own love's might.
O! let my looks be then the eloquence
And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,
Who plead for love, and look for recompense,
More than that tongue that more hath more express'd.
O! learn to read what silent love hath writ:
To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit

William Shakespeare

Continuando ...

Seguindo os ensinamentos do Prof. Keating:

"

O Captain my Captain! our fearful trip is done; The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won; The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:

But O heart! heart! heart!

O the bleeding drops of red,

Where on the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills; For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding; For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

Here Captain! dear father!

This arm beneath your head;

It is some dream that on the deck,

You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still; My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will; The ship is anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done; From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;

Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!

But I, with mournful tread,

Walk the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

(Walt Whitman)

pretérito do futuro

Recordei-merei do futuro
A porta me abriurá
Pensamento sentourá
Saírei de mim
Me esquecirei em algum lugar amanhã

Lila

Introdução/Introduction/Einleitung

Após rever o filme "A sociedade dos poetas mortos", a seguinte frase me perseguiu:
After I watched the movie "Dead poets society", the introduction sentence striked me and made me wonder:
Nach ich den Film " Der Club der toten Dichter", der Satz hat mich übergelegt:

I went into the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life...to put to rout all that was not life; and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.
~Henry David Thoreau