Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Alexandre O’Neill

Lament of the Man Who Misses Being Blind

When I was blind I was famed
(what a lucrative game!)
for being able to tell the future.
It’s what everyone claimed . . .

But now that I see perfectly
I use my eyesight to prophesy
and nobody wants to believe me,

since it’s plain,
they say, for all to see!

Lamúria do cego que antes o fosse

Lamúria do cego que antes o fosse

Quando era cego eu previa
(que freguesia!)
o que ia acontecer.
Era o que se dizia . . .

Mas agora, que bem vejo,
só agoiro do que vejo
e já ninguém me quer crer . . .

Porquê,
se todos os podem ver!
Close

Lament of the Man Who Misses Being Blind

When I was blind I was famed
(what a lucrative game!)
for being able to tell the future.
It’s what everyone claimed . . .

But now that I see perfectly
I use my eyesight to prophesy
and nobody wants to believe me,

since it’s plain,
they say, for all to see!

Lament of the Man Who Misses Being Blind

When I was blind I was famed
(what a lucrative game!)
for being able to tell the future.
It’s what everyone claimed . . .

But now that I see perfectly
I use my eyesight to prophesy
and nobody wants to believe me,

since it’s plain,
they say, for all to see!
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