segunda-feira, 25 de novembro de 2019

Alone with the cold

Miranda - The Tempest, by John William Waterhouse (1916)

Alone with the cold,
Alone with the tides of time,
I whisper to the old
Deep past of mine.

It sank in the years
Beyond the edge of mortality,
Taking dreams, tears and fears
And their own reality.

Will it come back to learn
What it hasn't learnt before?
Will it be able to discern
The lost way to the shore?

The waves which bring the future
Are uncertain but they unfold
Unknown changes that can nurture
The old past I still hold.
Hurad Duruvan

domingo, 17 de novembro de 2019

É certa

É certa
A incerteza que me habita,
Tão certa quanto a melancolia
Da despedida
E a lágrima escondida
Que o olhar contém.


It is certain
The uncertainty that dwells in me,
As certain as the melancholy
Of farewell
And the hidden tear
The eyes hold.

Hurad Duruvan

terça-feira, 12 de novembro de 2019

Corres sem alcançar

Corres sem alcançar
O que o alcance tem a dar;
Corres vendo-o partir
E a roubar de ti
Esperança e certeza
De que há beleza
No que é real.


You run without reaching
What reach has to give;
You run watching it leaving
And stealing from you
The hope and certainty
That there's beauty
In reality.

Hurad Duruvan