I KNOW IT'S NOT SO

About Patricia Evans' poetry

"Although I have spent time with Patrícia Evans on three separate occasions, I feel I know Patrícia Evans only through her poetry. She hides nothing, she surrenders everything. It is some of the most powerful poetry I have ever read. And I have read only English translations of her poems, so those who read her in her native Portuguese will experience her even more intimately. They should prepare themselves for imagery, anger, compassion, despair, humor, insight, knowledge of her self and the deepest love for those she loves, especially dad."

Robert E. Sheridan


Mr. Sheridan had been an editor for the New York Times for 32 years. He is also a poet, and a father.


Mr. Sheridan's blog:
http://www.coffeedrome.com/


PATRÍCIA EVANS

Twitter: @TiciaEvans - Email: TiciaEvans@gmail.com

17 de mai. de 2009

PROMETÊNIX / PROMETHOENIX


PROMETÊNIX
(© Patrícia Evans)

Eu me renovo a cada dia,
em cada unha,
em cada cílio ou cabelo,
em cada sonho pueril, que eu supunha
e era mero pesadelo.

Eu me transformo a cada dor,
a cada punhalada do destino,
a cada horror
em constatar não ter vivido,
mesmo que por breve instante,
alguma chama flamejante,
que fizesse despertar a libido.

Eu me morro a cada perda
e me converto na eucaristia,
para que Deus me conceda
ressurreição ao terceiro dia.

E mesmo que sangre um pouco
e que haja choro em cada meu velório,
não há de haver outro morto,
e eis que esse é meu espólio,
que tenha vivido tão ardentemente!


.

PROMETHOENIX
(© Patrícia Evans)

I renovate at each day
at each nail
each eyelash, each hair
at each silly feeling I thought it was a dream
and which was just a nightmare.

I change at each pain
at each stab from destiny
at each horror
for realizing I hadn't live,
yet for a brief moment,
some flaming blaze
that could have awoke my libido

I allow my death at each loss
and I convert myself through the holy communion
so God can concede me
ressurrection at the third day

And yet that it bleeds a little
and that there's crying at each funeral of mine
There will never be another dead
(and see that it is my spoil)
that have lived so ardently!
.
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