Maturity. that terrible gift
whose giver, giving it, takes away
all the spontaneous joy of receiving
under the icy shade of a headstone–
whose giver, giving it, takes away
all the spontaneous joy of receiving
under the icy shade of a headstone–
maturity sees, despite the blindfold
blocking the window's fresh surprise,
the empty circle that has no end
and that turns the world into a jail.
Maturity knows the exact price
of love, of leisure, of sorceries,
and can do nothing against its own science
or self, its sharpened gaze, sharp sense
of smell, and hand freed of every enchantment
self-destruct in the dream of existence.
Carlos Drummond de Andrade (1902 - 1987) Brazil
Translator not stated
Source: The Wolf Eel
What a wonderful discovery your blog is! For the past four years, I've decided to travel the world through my reading: each new book had to be written by an author from a new country. After 175 authors, I was finding it quite difficult to discover new nationalities, and it was while searching for a poem by Margaret Hendrie that I stumbled upon your site. Thank you for all these poems, thank you for indicating the authors' nationalities, and thank you for the country index!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for your comment. I'm glad you find this poetry collection helpful.
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