domingo, 3 de fevereiro de 2008

Final de tarde de domingo de carnaval

Há certos dias em que não há nada melhor do que sentar em uma boa poltrona, deixar uma luz fraquinha e tomar chá com torradas, enquanto se lê T.S Elliot.

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.


In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.


And indeed there will be time
To wonder, "Do I dare?" and, "Do I dare?"
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—
[They will say: "How his hair is growing thin!"]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: "But how his arms and legs are thin!"]
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.


Quem quiser ler o poema completo, "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock", clique aqui. Há uma tradução do Ivan Junqueira nesse site.

Um comentário:

Ticous disse...

Eu sou velho, mas você abusa. Chá com torradas, num fim de tarde de domingo de carnaval??? O que veio depois, uma emocionante partida de bingo?!?!?
Você devia estar estirado pelas sarjetas do Rio de Janeiro, bêbado, acabado e animado pra mais uma bebedeira na segunda-feira!