
segunda-feira, 26 de outubro de 2009
Um poema inédito, em inglês, escrito po Lino de Miranda, em Manaus/AM-Brasil, 16/11/1974. (Acervo pessoal)
No, my friend, I am no more the poet.
When I was, you think nothing, but I was the poet, o my friend.
Now, it is me that nothing you were, my boy,
that nothing half-alive.
But, you know? there is a stranger in my mind,
and I have, just as not mine, the poet I am no more,
a memorial poet, a mechanical one, a stranger, o my God! not me! not me!
But no, my God, no: it is not me no more that poet.
Even, my friend, I don't know who or all myself
is in me some other thing than memory.
L. M. XVI-XI-MCMLXXIV Ex.Am.Man.Br.
No, my friend, I am no more the poet.
When I was, you think nothing, but I was the poet, o my friend.
Now, it is me that nothing you were, my boy,
that nothing half-alive.
But, you know? there is a stranger in my mind,
and I have, just as not mine, the poet I am no more,
a memorial poet, a mechanical one, a stranger, o my God! not me! not me!
But no, my God, no: it is not me no more that poet.
Even, my friend, I don't know who or all myself
is in me some other thing than memory.
L. M. XVI-XI-MCMLXXIV Ex.Am.Man.Br.
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