When Soft Voices Die

Music, when soft voices die,

Vibrates in the memory;

Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.

Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heap’d for the belovèd’s bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

a song with no end

when Whitman wrote, “I sing the body electric”

I know what he
I know what he

to be completely alive every moment
in spite of the inevitable.

we can’t cheat death but we can make it
work so hard
that when it does take

it will have known a victory just as
perfect as

Charles Bukowski

A song with no end

Photo CPF (September 16, 2017). This was the last place, the exact last room where I saw O. for the last time. I don’t know if he liked Bukowski. I hope he did because I seem to be having a Bukowski moment and this poem made me think of him.


De repente do riso fez-se o pranto Silencioso e branco como a bruma E das bocas unidas fez-se a espuma E das mãos espalmadas fez-se o espanto

De repente da calma fez-se o vento Que dos olhos desfez a última chama E da paixão fez-se o pressentimento E do momento imóvel fez-se o drama.

De repente, não mais que de repente Fez-se de triste o que se fez amante E de sozinho o que se fez contente

Fez-se do amigo próximo o distante Fez-se da vida uma aventura errante De repente, não mais que de repente.

Suddenly laughter became sobbing Silent and white like the mist And united mouths became foam And upturned hands became astonished.

Suddenly the calm became the wind That extinguished the last flame in the eye And passion became foreboding And the still moment became drama.

Suddenly, no more than suddenly He who’d become a lover became sad And he who’d become content became lon

The near became the distant friend Life became a vagrant venture Suddenly, no more than suddenly.

Soneto de Separação, Vinícius de Moraes

Translation by Ashley Brown via http://www.antoniomiranda.com.br