mardi 24 mars 2009

Sonnet

Whether we write or speak or do but look
We are ever unapparent. What we are
Cannot be transfused into word or book.
Our soul from us is infinitely far.
However much we give our thoughts the will
To be our soul and gesture it abroad,
Our hearts are incommunicable still.
In what we show ourselves we are ignored.
The abyss from soul to soul cannot be bridged
By any skill of thought or trick of seeming.
Unto our very selves we are abridged
When we would utter to our thought our being.
We are our dreams of ourselves, souls by gleams,
And each to each other dreams of other’s dreams.

Fernando PESSOA, Poemas ingleses

Seja falar, escrever, olhar sequer,
Sempre inaparentes somos. Nosso ente
Não pode, verbo ou livro, em si conter.
A alma nos fica longe infindamente.
Pensamentos que dermos ou quisermos
Ser alma nossa em gestos revelada
Coração cerrado fica o que tivermos,
De nós mesmos é sempre ignorada.
Abismos de alma a alma intransponíveis
Por bem pensar ou manha de o parecer.
Ao mais fundo de nós irredutíveis
Quando ao pensar o ser queremos dizer.
Sonhos de nós, as almas lucilantes,
E duns pra outros sonhos doutros antes.

Traduction de José Blanc de Portugal.

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