Poem
Gastão Cruz
MORNING
That’s how the morning is, a namefor the world, opening one’s eyes like
someone who is speaking
May time or
diurnal death
give to open eyes the nothingness of words
And so the sun will be
the silence in a look or a hand
upon a forehead
that brings the eyelids down
as if the fingers were giving to the head the truth
hidden in that nothingness
and the morning were coming
not like a vast shadow to clothe the body’s
voice
but to cover it with
the light
of the words that are not there
© Translation: 2007, Alexis Levitin
A MANHÃ
A MANHÃ
É assim a manhã, um nomepara o mundo, abrir os olhos como
alguém que fala
Podem o tempo ou a
morte diurna
dar aos olhos abertos o nada das palavras
O sol será então
o silêncio no olhar ou a mão
sobre a testa
que faz descer as pálpebras
como se os dedos dessem à cabeça a verdade
submersa nesse nada
e a manhã viesse
não como sombra vasta vestir a voz
do corpo
mas cobri-la da
luz
das palavras que faltam
© 2002, Gastão Cruz
From: Rua de Portugal
Publisher: Assírio & Alvim, Lisboa
From: Rua de Portugal
Publisher: Assírio & Alvim, Lisboa
Poems
Poems of Gastão Cruz
Close
MORNING
That’s how the morning is, a namefor the world, opening one’s eyes like
someone who is speaking
May time or
diurnal death
give to open eyes the nothingness of words
And so the sun will be
the silence in a look or a hand
upon a forehead
that brings the eyelids down
as if the fingers were giving to the head the truth
hidden in that nothingness
and the morning were coming
not like a vast shadow to clothe the body’s
voice
but to cover it with
the light
of the words that are not there
© 2007, Alexis Levitin
From: Rua de Portugal
From: Rua de Portugal
MORNING
That’s how the morning is, a namefor the world, opening one’s eyes like
someone who is speaking
May time or
diurnal death
give to open eyes the nothingness of words
And so the sun will be
the silence in a look or a hand
upon a forehead
that brings the eyelids down
as if the fingers were giving to the head the truth
hidden in that nothingness
and the morning were coming
not like a vast shadow to clothe the body’s
voice
but to cover it with
the light
of the words that are not there
© 2007, Alexis Levitin
Sponsors
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère