4.6.09

One Art

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three beloved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

-- Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster.

Elizabeth Bishop

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6 comentários:

  1. elsafer4/6/09 18:28

    saber perder .... momentos que ficam nas memorias, sentidos que partilhamos .... hhhuuumm
    ;)

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  2. claudio reis4/6/09 22:18

    um exemplo, identifico-me em parte;

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  3. Pedro_Berenguer6/6/09 18:05

    A "perda" tornada bonita ao se fazer poema.

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  4. Anónimo6/6/09 21:54

    Uma arte bem encontrada na perda labiríntica das palavras.

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  5. Anónimo9/6/09 11:50

    Lindo...

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  6. Paulo Pereira14/6/09 16:01

    Fez-me lembrar o Marc Almond a cantar "The Art of Falling Apart". E também outro belíssimo poema de W. H. Auden:

    Were all stars to disappear and die
    I should learn to look at an empty sky
    And find its total darkness sublime,
    Though this might take me a little time.

    Abraços

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