Poem
Mário Cesariny de Vasconcelos
The ship of mirrors
The ship of mirrorsdoesn’t sail, it gallops
Its sea is a forest
serving as level plane
At dusk its flanks
mirror the sun and moon
That’s why time loves
to lie down with it
Shipowners don’t like
its clear and bright route
(To someone in motion
it looks stationary)
When it reaches the city
no wharf gives it shelter
Its bilge brings nothing
it departs with nothing
Voices and heavy air
are all it transports
And a species of door
in its mirrored mast
Its ten thousand captains
all have the same face
The same dark belt
the same rank and office
When one man revolts
there are ten thousand mutineers
(The way objects are reflected
in the eyes of a fly)
And when one of them ascends
and his body climbs the masts
and he scans the ocean depths
The whole ship gallops
(like the stars in space)
From the world’s beginning
to the world’s end
© Translation: 2005, Richard Zenith
The ship of mirrors
O navio de espelhos
não navega, cavalga
Seu mar é a floresta
que lhe serve de nível
Ao crepúsculo espelha
sol e lua nos flancos
(Por isso o tempo gosta
de deitar-se com ele)
Os armadores não amam
a sua rota clara
(Vista do movimento
dir-se-ia que pára)
Quando chega à cidade
nenhum cais o abriga
(O seu porão traz nada
nada leva à partida)
Vozes e ar pesado
é tudo o que transporta
(E no mastro espelhado
uma espécie de porta)
Seus dez mil capitães
têm o mesmo rosto
(A mesma cinta escura
o mesmo grau e posto)
Quando um se revolta
há dez mil insurrectos
(Como os olhos da mosca
reflectem os objectos)
E quando um deles ala
o corpo sobre os mastros
e escruta o mar do fundo
Toda a nave cavalga
(como no espaço os astros)
Do princípio do mundo
até ao fim do mundo
não navega, cavalga
Seu mar é a floresta
que lhe serve de nível
Ao crepúsculo espelha
sol e lua nos flancos
(Por isso o tempo gosta
de deitar-se com ele)
Os armadores não amam
a sua rota clara
(Vista do movimento
dir-se-ia que pára)
Quando chega à cidade
nenhum cais o abriga
(O seu porão traz nada
nada leva à partida)
Vozes e ar pesado
é tudo o que transporta
(E no mastro espelhado
uma espécie de porta)
Seus dez mil capitães
têm o mesmo rosto
(A mesma cinta escura
o mesmo grau e posto)
Quando um se revolta
há dez mil insurrectos
(Como os olhos da mosca
reflectem os objectos)
E quando um deles ala
o corpo sobre os mastros
e escruta o mar do fundo
Toda a nave cavalga
(como no espaço os astros)
Do princípio do mundo
até ao fim do mundo
© 1965, Mário Cesariny
From: A Cidade Queimada
Publisher: Assírio & Alvim, Lisbon
From: A Cidade Queimada
Publisher: Assírio & Alvim, Lisbon
Poems
Poems of Mário Cesariny de Vasconcelos
Close
The ship of mirrors
The ship of mirrorsdoesn’t sail, it gallops
Its sea is a forest
serving as level plane
At dusk its flanks
mirror the sun and moon
That’s why time loves
to lie down with it
Shipowners don’t like
its clear and bright route
(To someone in motion
it looks stationary)
When it reaches the city
no wharf gives it shelter
Its bilge brings nothing
it departs with nothing
Voices and heavy air
are all it transports
And a species of door
in its mirrored mast
Its ten thousand captains
all have the same face
The same dark belt
the same rank and office
When one man revolts
there are ten thousand mutineers
(The way objects are reflected
in the eyes of a fly)
And when one of them ascends
and his body climbs the masts
and he scans the ocean depths
The whole ship gallops
(like the stars in space)
From the world’s beginning
to the world’s end
© 2005, Richard Zenith
From: A Cidade Queimada
From: A Cidade Queimada
The ship of mirrors
The ship of mirrorsdoesn’t sail, it gallops
Its sea is a forest
serving as level plane
At dusk its flanks
mirror the sun and moon
That’s why time loves
to lie down with it
Shipowners don’t like
its clear and bright route
(To someone in motion
it looks stationary)
When it reaches the city
no wharf gives it shelter
Its bilge brings nothing
it departs with nothing
Voices and heavy air
are all it transports
And a species of door
in its mirrored mast
Its ten thousand captains
all have the same face
The same dark belt
the same rank and office
When one man revolts
there are ten thousand mutineers
(The way objects are reflected
in the eyes of a fly)
And when one of them ascends
and his body climbs the masts
and he scans the ocean depths
The whole ship gallops
(like the stars in space)
From the world’s beginning
to the world’s end
© 2005, Richard Zenith
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