© Saul Leiter

Lovely, golden,
Like the moon when it awakes
In the evenings of July...

Her mouth, 
Very small and finely curver,
Was sensitive, somewhat shy,
Like the pomegranate flower;
And her eyes very far,
In some world we do not know,
They were like two valleys
With two bright lakes of crystal down below.
How you dance, love, how you dance!

The veils fall, and all around
The gracefulness
Of her slight and subtle body
They seem like mists made of silk.
She is almost naked,
And the dance goes on, goes on.

António Botto, in Songs | tradução de Fernando Pessoa

2 comentários:

  1. And so, as kinsmen met a night,
    We talked between the rooms,
    Until the moss had reached our lips,
    And covered up our names.
    [Emily Dickinson]


    1. "You wave at the sky with wild lovely eyes..."
      Nick Cave