The lighthouse invites the storm
The lighthouse invites the storm and lights it.
Driven by the tempest that tall freighter heels
Under the crag where the fiery seabird wheels,
And lightning of spume over rock ignites it.
Oh, birds of the darkness of winter whose flights it
Importunes with frost, when ice congeals
On wings bonded for flight by zero's seals
What good spirit ondulates you still like kites that
Children are guardians of in cold blue? -
And what indeed ourselfs, Chang, in these pursuit
Planes, strung to a nucleus within range
Of our polygonous enemy,
And what shall we, what shall we not, tolerate
Today from chaos, what? - by the unshot albatross and
Icarus' circus plunge?
Malcolm Lowry, in "As cantinas e outros poemas do álcool e do mar", selecção e tradução de José Agostinho Baptista, Ed. Assírio e Alvim
«On n'écrit pas parce qu'on a quelque chose à dire
mais parce qu'on a envie de dire quelque chose.»
(E. M. Cioran)
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