ARAR
A ilha
Eugénio de Andrade
Tanta palavra para chegar a ti,
tanta palavra,
sem nenhuma alcançar
entre as ruínas
do delírio a ilha,
sempre mudando
de forma, de lugar, estremecida
chama, preguiçosa
vaga fugidia
do mar de Ulisses cor de vinho.
It
Rae Armantrout
The sky grayed and it was possible to name objects.
They didn’t yet call out to me. This happened only
when the sun touched their skins.
Then they would do tricks.
Perhaps a silver
bracelet of raindrops
suspended from a bone
thin twig,
almost a crib mobile.
But now I’ve called it several things.
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