Marin Sorescu
UNDER THE DOOR
The day of today
has been delivered to me as usually
under the door.
I put my glasses on
and begin to read.
Nothing special from what I see...
It says I am going to be a little sad by noon,
no reason specified.
And I shall continue to love light
from where I stopped yesterday.
The external affairs page informs me
about the discussions I am going to have
with the water, the mountains and the air
regarding their absurd request
to enter my blood and my brains.
And then the usual news
about my energy for work,
the walk to buy bread,
about good humor
(but they don't say anything
about the situation inside my liver).
Where is it printed, this life of mine,
that is so full of unbelievable mistakes?
Translated by Loredana Tiron-Pandit
The day of today
has been delivered to me as usually
under the door.
I put my glasses on
and begin to read.
Nothing special from what I see...
It says I am going to be a little sad by noon,
no reason specified.
And I shall continue to love light
from where I stopped yesterday.
The external affairs page informs me
about the discussions I am going to have
with the water, the mountains and the air
regarding their absurd request
to enter my blood and my brains.
And then the usual news
about my energy for work,
the walk to buy bread,
about good humor
(but they don't say anything
about the situation inside my liver).
Where is it printed, this life of mine,
that is so full of unbelievable mistakes?
Translated by Loredana Tiron-Pandit
posted by JMS at 3/21/2006 02:09:00 da tarde
2 Comments:
Não conhecia, gostei muito de ler.
Há uma edição portuguesa, na Quetzal na série dos "Poetas em Mateus", ou lá comno se chama a colecção. Mas são melhores as traduções inglesas, na editora Bloodaxe.
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