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

18 de mar. de 2010

O MONSTRO DO TEU DESERTO / THE MONSTER OF YOUR DESERT


O MONSTRO DO TEU DESERTO
(© Patrícia Evans)

Andas pelo deserto como se fora castigo
e morres de sede em frente ao oásis!
Que monstro é esse que te consome
que te impede de abrires a boca
enquanto teu peito grita meu nome?
Que deserto é esse onde ermas
que oásis esse que não tocas?


Então te matas na estiva
enquanto podes reinar nas docas?
Renegas viver e alimentas o tédio,
agonizas com a culpa, procuras remédio,
mas pra que cura se o monstro é tua cria?
Este filho melhor não tivesses tido!


Que lugar é esse em que teimas te perder
quando nada está perdido?
Que doença é essa que a ti impões?
A que armadilha te devotas?

Teu deserto é teu silêncio que te mata,
teu oásis, minha boca que não provas...

Mata esse monstro que te priva
que não demora a tua sede passa
quando a matares em minha saliva!



THE MONSTER OF YOUR DESERT
(© Patrícia Evans)

You walk through the desert as if it were a punishment
and die thirsty in front of the oasis!
What monster is that which consumes you,
preventing you from opening your mouth...
while your chest shouts my name?
What desert is that in which you wander?
What oasis is that which you keep not touching?

Why do you die in the stowage
If you can reign on the docks?
You refuse to live and feed boredom,
agonize, despair, search for drugs
that could heal the pain the monster brings
but why drugs if it was you creating the monster?
This, son, is better that you had not...

What place is that where you insist on losing yourself in it,
but nothing is lost at all?
What disease is that that you impose on yourself?
What is that trap you are so devoted to?

Your desert is your silence, killing you,
your oasis, my mouth your lips don't touch.

Destroy that monster who deprives life

and it will not take long for you
to quench your thirst on my saliva!

.
.

Um comentário:

Sonja Paskin disse...

algumas partes (claro) me lembram minha mãe e o jeito como as coisas são... como um todo, me lembra pessoas que as vezes eu preferia nunca ter conehcido