Poem
Ruy Belo
MY WAY OF SAYING FAREWELL
There’s ocean there’s womanand both of them reach me in amiable bays
opening up for example in the churchyard of sunday afternoons
I hear them call but not just any old way
they call in a particular manner
perhaps as a petition or a presence or a suffering
The fact is that basically
and despite all the words in all the pages of dictionaries
I really only have since the world’s first morning
two words at my disposal
to name just two things
whatever two I choose
I’m not sure which I like more
whether ocean or woman
I know I like ocean I know I like woman
and when I say ocean when I say woman
I don’t say ocean or woman just to say it
When I say ocean when I say woman
there’s a certain tone in my voice a certain taste in my mouth
which seem to me to clearly show that ocean and woman
as I say ocean as I say woman
pronounced ocean pronounced woman
are not just words used for speaking
but are perhaps a way of liking
and the awareness of liking
and a pleasure in saying so
a liking of the fact of liking
Woman-ocean is after all
close to womb-emotion
if we forget the letters
and obey the sense of sound
There are waves in the ocean
the ocean breaks in waves that spread in the woman’s long hair
and she makes it wave better now and then
in the month of september when the tide is highest
Probably the best part of woman namely her gaze
is for me the woman’s ocean
and the woman I meet only once in life
crossing her path for just a moment wherever it may be
perhaps many miles from the ocean
but a woman I can’t ever forget
no matter how awash I am in sorrows or worries
is the woman whatever woman
I call the woman from the ocean
In that late september when I depart
from a city whatever city
when I can feel that someone is dying
that something lingers forever in the days
and I sincerely fear I might sink
into some eyes or into water
into a little or a lot of water
an ocean wave a tear or a glassy gaze
I’ll say loudly or softly however I’m able
with wide-open mouth or already choking
the words ocean or woman
slowly and ever slower almost in slow motion
woman ocean
then almost as just a vague notion
ocean woman
I don’t know but maybe it will be
more than anything else
my way of saying farewell
© Translation: 2005, Richard Zenith
Uma Forma de Me Despedir
Uma Forma de Me Despedir
Há o mar há a mulherquer um quer o outro me chegam em acessíveis baías
abertas talvez no adro amplo das tardes dos domingos
Oiço chamar mas não de uma forma qualquer
chamar mas de uma certa maneira
talvez um apelo ou uma presença ou um sofrimento
Ora eu que no fundo
apesar das muitas palavras vindas nas muitas páginas dos dicionários
bem vistas as coisas disponho somente de duas palavras
desde a primeira manhã do mundo
para nomear só duas coisas
apenas preciso de as atribuir
Não sei se gosto mais do mar
se gosto mais da mulher
Sei que gosto do mar sei que gosto da mulher
e quando digo o mar a mulher
não digo mar ou mulher só por dizer
Ao dizer o mar a mulher
há penso eu um certo tom na minha voz sinto um certo travo na boca
que mostram que mais que palavras usadas para falar
dizer como eu digo a mulher o mar
mar mulher assim ditos
são uma maneira talvez de gostar
e a consciência de que se gosta
e um prazer em o dizer
um gosto afinal em gostar
Enfim o mar a mulher
pode num dos casos ser a/mar a mulher
mera forma talvez de uniformizar o artigo
definido do singular
Há ondas no mar
o mar rebenta em ondas espraiadas nos compridos cabelos da mulher
que ela faz ondular melhor de tarde em tarde
no mês de setembro nas marés vivas
O melhor da mulher talvez o olhar
é para mim o mar da mulher
e à mulher que um só dia encontro na vida
de passagem um simples momento num sítio qualquer
talvez a muitos quilómetros do mar
mas mulher que não mais consigo esquecer
mesmo imerso na dor ou submerso em cuidados
a essa mulher qualquer
eu chamo mulher do mar
Nos fins de setembro quando eu partir
de uma cidade seja ela qual for
quando eu pressentir que alguém morre
que alguma coisa fica para sempre nos dias
e ou nuns olhos ou numa água
num pouco de água ou em muita água
onda do mar lágrima ou brilho do olhar
eu recear seriamente vir-me a submergir
direi alto ou baixo conforme puder
com a boca toda ou já a custar-me a engolir
as palavras mar ou mulher
com certo vagar e cada vez mais devagar
mulher mar
depois quase já só a pensar
o mar a mulher
Não sei mas será
talvez mais que outra coisa qualquer
uma forma de me despedir
© 1976, Ruy Belo
From: Todos os Poemas
Publisher: Assírio & Alvim, Lisbon
From: Todos os Poemas
Publisher: Assírio & Alvim, Lisbon
Poems
Poems of Ruy Belo
Close
MY WAY OF SAYING FAREWELL
There’s ocean there’s womanand both of them reach me in amiable bays
opening up for example in the churchyard of sunday afternoons
I hear them call but not just any old way
they call in a particular manner
perhaps as a petition or a presence or a suffering
The fact is that basically
and despite all the words in all the pages of dictionaries
I really only have since the world’s first morning
two words at my disposal
to name just two things
whatever two I choose
I’m not sure which I like more
whether ocean or woman
I know I like ocean I know I like woman
and when I say ocean when I say woman
I don’t say ocean or woman just to say it
When I say ocean when I say woman
there’s a certain tone in my voice a certain taste in my mouth
which seem to me to clearly show that ocean and woman
as I say ocean as I say woman
pronounced ocean pronounced woman
are not just words used for speaking
but are perhaps a way of liking
and the awareness of liking
and a pleasure in saying so
a liking of the fact of liking
Woman-ocean is after all
close to womb-emotion
if we forget the letters
and obey the sense of sound
There are waves in the ocean
the ocean breaks in waves that spread in the woman’s long hair
and she makes it wave better now and then
in the month of september when the tide is highest
Probably the best part of woman namely her gaze
is for me the woman’s ocean
and the woman I meet only once in life
crossing her path for just a moment wherever it may be
perhaps many miles from the ocean
but a woman I can’t ever forget
no matter how awash I am in sorrows or worries
is the woman whatever woman
I call the woman from the ocean
In that late september when I depart
from a city whatever city
when I can feel that someone is dying
that something lingers forever in the days
and I sincerely fear I might sink
into some eyes or into water
into a little or a lot of water
an ocean wave a tear or a glassy gaze
I’ll say loudly or softly however I’m able
with wide-open mouth or already choking
the words ocean or woman
slowly and ever slower almost in slow motion
woman ocean
then almost as just a vague notion
ocean woman
I don’t know but maybe it will be
more than anything else
my way of saying farewell
© 2005, Richard Zenith
From: Todos os Poemas
From: Todos os Poemas
MY WAY OF SAYING FAREWELL
There’s ocean there’s womanand both of them reach me in amiable bays
opening up for example in the churchyard of sunday afternoons
I hear them call but not just any old way
they call in a particular manner
perhaps as a petition or a presence or a suffering
The fact is that basically
and despite all the words in all the pages of dictionaries
I really only have since the world’s first morning
two words at my disposal
to name just two things
whatever two I choose
I’m not sure which I like more
whether ocean or woman
I know I like ocean I know I like woman
and when I say ocean when I say woman
I don’t say ocean or woman just to say it
When I say ocean when I say woman
there’s a certain tone in my voice a certain taste in my mouth
which seem to me to clearly show that ocean and woman
as I say ocean as I say woman
pronounced ocean pronounced woman
are not just words used for speaking
but are perhaps a way of liking
and the awareness of liking
and a pleasure in saying so
a liking of the fact of liking
Woman-ocean is after all
close to womb-emotion
if we forget the letters
and obey the sense of sound
There are waves in the ocean
the ocean breaks in waves that spread in the woman’s long hair
and she makes it wave better now and then
in the month of september when the tide is highest
Probably the best part of woman namely her gaze
is for me the woman’s ocean
and the woman I meet only once in life
crossing her path for just a moment wherever it may be
perhaps many miles from the ocean
but a woman I can’t ever forget
no matter how awash I am in sorrows or worries
is the woman whatever woman
I call the woman from the ocean
In that late september when I depart
from a city whatever city
when I can feel that someone is dying
that something lingers forever in the days
and I sincerely fear I might sink
into some eyes or into water
into a little or a lot of water
an ocean wave a tear or a glassy gaze
I’ll say loudly or softly however I’m able
with wide-open mouth or already choking
the words ocean or woman
slowly and ever slower almost in slow motion
woman ocean
then almost as just a vague notion
ocean woman
I don’t know but maybe it will be
more than anything else
my way of saying farewell
© 2005, Richard Zenith
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