Algo a dizer...

Estou em viagem, vendo muita coisa e com vontade de escrever. Mas também, precisando de mais tempo para ir assimilando o que vejo e realmente ter algo a dizer. E como a estrada não é um lugar muito propício para preparar novas traduções, estou meio "com as mãos vazias" e não sei bem o quê postar hoje. Assim, só me ocorre publicar este poema - o escrevi anos atrás, após outras viagens...

Gypsy II.

there were days i would step out
from my cove, into the sunshine
of some midday, to pick red
berries and feel the company
of doves and slippery fishes.
my hands were two open gourds,
swishing cool water for the little ones,
gathering the grains of sand through the green
hours, finding in them some shining stone or
some dark stone brighter than the others.

now solitude has slipped
from the summer. others have
settled the furthest shores,
and so we recede, past the blue
hotel and the rocks with their angry
black letters. my children
cling hungrily to me. in the
distance, the craggy outline
of the city looms. the soles of my feet
thicken, not stumbling now
on the long-rooted vines
or the twisted brush of the beach.
gulls stalk close to me, take bread crumbs
from the shiny leather of my palms.
when the wind comes, it is cold and low
and loved. we are alone, waiting for night.