Poem
Fiama Hasse Pais Brandão
On Things
Not all things mark time for uswith tenacity, in their halos.
Many hide or do not give back
the thought by which we sought them.
O imagined thing, reflection in water,
O tank containing the history of time,
hour by hour in the four seasons.
You have Winter, Summer and Spring
to show, and perfect, motionless Autumn.
The plum tree and the windstay bush
give you not only images of the Image
but also their fallen petals,
so that the archetype overlies the image.
And not only from the plant kingdom,
O ancient tank, do figures visit your mirror;
fishes, birds and insects pass
in the whole time where you preserve
the signs of the past and present.
So many things have passed, and yet I forget
that we pass, that only this water
enclosed in its circle and flowing
has a mobile and immobile force
that pulls me from age to age.
Steadily gushing, it leaves by the channel
at ground level, spreading over the fields.
And time is spent like water,
which never holds the same mirror
for the images that come and go.
Das coisas
Das coisas
Nem todas as coisas marcam para nóso tempo com tenacidade, nos seus halos.
Muitas ocultam ou não nos devolvem
o pensamento com que as havíamos querido.
Ó coisa imaginada, reflexo na água,
ó tanque que conténs a história do tempo,
hora a hora nas quatro estações.
Tens o Inverno, o Verão, a Primavera
e sobretudo o Outono perfeito, tão imóvel.
E o miósporo e a ameixoeira
não só te dão as imagens da Imagem
como te lançam as pétalas soltas
para que o arquétipo tombe sobre a imagem.
E não apenas do reino vegetal as figuras
visitam o teu espelho, ó tanque antigo,
como os peixes, as aves e os insectos
passam, no inteiro tempo em que tu guardas
os sinais do passado e do presente.
Tanta coisa passou sem me lembrar
que passamos, só esta água
parada no seu círculo e a escorrer
tem uma força móvel e imóvel
que me puxa de idade para idade.
Continuamente jorra, e sai pela caleira
rasa ao chão, espalhada nos terrenos.
E o tempo vai-se gastando como a água
que nunca tem em si o mesmo espelho
para as imagens vindas e perdidas.
© 1994, Fiama Hasse Pais Brandão
From: Cantos do Canto
Publisher: Relógio D’Água,
From: Cantos do Canto
Publisher: Relógio D’Água,
Poems
Poems of Fiama Hasse Pais Brandão
Close
On Things
Not all things mark time for uswith tenacity, in their halos.
Many hide or do not give back
the thought by which we sought them.
O imagined thing, reflection in water,
O tank containing the history of time,
hour by hour in the four seasons.
You have Winter, Summer and Spring
to show, and perfect, motionless Autumn.
The plum tree and the windstay bush
give you not only images of the Image
but also their fallen petals,
so that the archetype overlies the image.
And not only from the plant kingdom,
O ancient tank, do figures visit your mirror;
fishes, birds and insects pass
in the whole time where you preserve
the signs of the past and present.
So many things have passed, and yet I forget
that we pass, that only this water
enclosed in its circle and flowing
has a mobile and immobile force
that pulls me from age to age.
Steadily gushing, it leaves by the channel
at ground level, spreading over the fields.
And time is spent like water,
which never holds the same mirror
for the images that come and go.
From: Cantos do Canto
On Things
Not all things mark time for uswith tenacity, in their halos.
Many hide or do not give back
the thought by which we sought them.
O imagined thing, reflection in water,
O tank containing the history of time,
hour by hour in the four seasons.
You have Winter, Summer and Spring
to show, and perfect, motionless Autumn.
The plum tree and the windstay bush
give you not only images of the Image
but also their fallen petals,
so that the archetype overlies the image.
And not only from the plant kingdom,
O ancient tank, do figures visit your mirror;
fishes, birds and insects pass
in the whole time where you preserve
the signs of the past and present.
So many things have passed, and yet I forget
that we pass, that only this water
enclosed in its circle and flowing
has a mobile and immobile force
that pulls me from age to age.
Steadily gushing, it leaves by the channel
at ground level, spreading over the fields.
And time is spent like water,
which never holds the same mirror
for the images that come and go.
Sponsors
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère