domingo, 21 de julho de 2013

At death’s door

The graveyard shift starts
Through the gates, the undertaker
watches the body upon the grave

There is no wreath, no will, no heir
Intestate, grave-digger?
Even if the body was not there!
There is no cenotaph

But the corpse,
mausoleum's orts,
claims to lie down elsewhere

Gloomy night, almost dawn
bereavement starts tonight
Deceased corpse cries

No repose, exanimate
Worn-out body, no replace
Requiem post suicide

Bidding farewell
The mug, full of sorrow,
is loaded with blood as well

The skeptical man,
once again,
utters a shout to the corpse.
But the worms,
spread over the skull,
have its own words to say:
Memento mori, undertaker.
Your grave we already have.
Life, death, time
It all passes by.
You’d better save your last breath.”

Arriscando um poema em Inglês (pela primeira vez!) nesse fim de semana quente de inverno, em julho de 2013.

2 comentários:

  1. Até em inglês vc mantêm o estilo. Perfeito!

  2. Marvellousíssimo texto! Super segunda-fase-do-romantismo-que-a-Maysa-tanto-ama auhauauahauhah Congratulations com muito confete!


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