Suddenly my Thoughts halt...


Suddenly my Thoughts halt...
— As if suddenly reined in
In the Mad Rush... in which, carried...
— It Goes in Search... of Peace... of Oblivion.

— Stops Surprised... Scrutinizing... Attentive
As stops... a Maddened Horse
Before an Abyss... torn open before its feet...
— It Stops... and Stays and Lingers for a Moment...

It comes along in the Mad Rush.
Stops... and Stays... and Lingers for a Moment...

Plunges into the Night, Dark and Cold,
A Gaze of Steel, the Night explores...

— But the Spur of pain scores its flank...
— And It Leaps... and Goes On... beneath the Spur!


by Angelo Lima, Portuguese Poet hospitalised in the psychiatric ward.

Comentários

Enviar um comentário

Mensagens populares deste blogue

Saraiva

A branquez em tudo É o sol que pela água extravasa. Reflete-se em si e em tudo, E em nada. São pérolas, são pérolas a cair, Milhares que pela rua empedrada se desfazem como água, Assim chove, chuva branca. Salpicos de fragmentos, de pérolas, de pingos, Escorrem pelo dorso dobrado de quem passa. Pelas ruas, avenidas, pelos carros que correm, Pelas pessoas que se movem. Foge tudo em languidos movimentos, Abafados pela trajetória dos fragmentos, Nem se apercebem da beleza branca, Que ao seu redor clama.
Ler mais

The sound of static / O som da estática

Imagem
Murmuring a murmur in the murmuring sea. The sound softly whispers soothing me. Tears tearing through the roars wave Undulating broken by his shadow edge.   I whisper the murmur of a lullaby's refrain, That tears through time and makes it stay. The horizon smudges in a blur of orange Is dusk? Is dawn? Something calls me...   I brush a caress on the membrane of the air, It dances through the world, without haste or fear. It pulls the water, pushes the foam, I sway fixed to the music's tone.   I meditate and feel without certainty, Something intimate within existence. The deaf mute sound of the thing-in-itself, Vibrates with life the Pi static. ______________________________________ (Pt original version) Murmuro murmurando no murmúrio do mar. O som sussurra suave para me aclamar. Range rasgando o rugido da onda Ondeando quebrada pelas orlas da sombra.   Sussurro o murmúrio de uma canção de embalar, Que rasga o tempo e o faz prolongar. Esborrata o horizonte borra ...
Ler mais

The Obscure Side

Imagem
  Tock... Echo... Tock... Echo... Repeatedly, the hard wooden sole echoed through the deserted, dimly lit street. The cold, dry night prolonged and stretched into the emptiness the echo of his footsteps. Where was he? Where was he walking? It mattered little. He always ended up in the same place—to nowhere. His purpose, only one: to lose himself. As he walked, his thoughts lost themselves in a single feeling, falling into the void, swallowed up. Not to see, not to hear, to walk. Without noticing, little by little, the worn intensity of the lights was gradually withdrawn. The streetlamps went out, slowly. Walls and houses lost their substance. He continued on, blind, deaf. Tap... Vvv... Tap... Vvv... A new echo resounded... Tap... Vvv... Tap... Vvv... This one settled within him, like gentle caresses upon one who sleeps. It awakened him slightly, stemming the flow of thoughts that ran straight toward alienation. He raised his head and looked. Behind h...
Ler mais