Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Florbela Espanca

EXALTATION

To live!... To drink the wind and sun!...
To lift up to the sky our throbbing
Hearts! God made our arms for grasping!
And gave us mouths of blood for kissing!

The always red-glowing flame on high!...
The always straying wings that soar
Still higher, ready to uproot the stars!...
Glory!... Fame!... The pride of creating!...

Life’s honey and life’s bitterness
Dwell in the lake of my eyes like violets
And in my ecstatic, pagan kisses!...

The heart of carnations fills my mouth!
O bohemians, tramps and poets,
How truly, Brothers, I’m your Sister!

Exaltação

Exaltação

Viver!... Beber o vento e o sol!... Erguer
Ao céu os corações a palpitar!
Deus fez os nossos braços pra prender,
E a boca fez-se sangue pra beijar!

A chama, sempre rubra, ao alto, a arder!...
Asas sempre perdidas a pairar,
Mais alto para as estrelas desprender!...
A glória!... A fama!... O orgulho de criar!...

Da vida tenho o mel e tenho os travos
No lago dos meus olhos de violetas,
Nos meus beijos extáticos, pagãos!...

Trago na boca o coração dos cravos!
Boêmios, vagabundos, e poetas:
— Como eu sou vossa Irmã, ó meus Irmãos!...
Close

EXALTATION

To live!... To drink the wind and sun!...
To lift up to the sky our throbbing
Hearts! God made our arms for grasping!
And gave us mouths of blood for kissing!

The always red-glowing flame on high!...
The always straying wings that soar
Still higher, ready to uproot the stars!...
Glory!... Fame!... The pride of creating!...

Life’s honey and life’s bitterness
Dwell in the lake of my eyes like violets
And in my ecstatic, pagan kisses!...

The heart of carnations fills my mouth!
O bohemians, tramps and poets,
How truly, Brothers, I’m your Sister!

EXALTATION

To live!... To drink the wind and sun!...
To lift up to the sky our throbbing
Hearts! God made our arms for grasping!
And gave us mouths of blood for kissing!

The always red-glowing flame on high!...
The always straying wings that soar
Still higher, ready to uproot the stars!...
Glory!... Fame!... The pride of creating!...

Life’s honey and life’s bitterness
Dwell in the lake of my eyes like violets
And in my ecstatic, pagan kisses!...

The heart of carnations fills my mouth!
O bohemians, tramps and poets,
How truly, Brothers, I’m your Sister!
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Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
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