The Plagiarist
Trata-se de um arquivo de poesia online que mostra apenas aquilo que em poesia interessa, isto é, as palavras. Não há bonecos, não há desenhos, só uma lista de autores feliz e apetecível, que nos liga aos poemas respectivos, onde fui encontrar este Bukowski raro online (a ‘raridade online’ é um conceito merecedor de atenção):
pull a string, a puppet moves
each man must realize
that it can all disappear very
quickly:
the cat, the woman, the job,
the front tire,
the bed, the walls, the
room; all our necessities
including love,
rest on foundations of sand -
and any given cause,
no matter how unrelated:
the death of a boy in Hong Kong
or a blizzard in Omaha ...
can serve as your undoing.
all your chinaware crashing to the
kitchen floor, your girl will enter
and you'll be standing, drunk,
in the center of it and she'll ask:
my god, what's the matter?
and you'll answer: I don't know,
I don't know ...
E um Anna Akhmatova, já agora :)
I taught myself to live simply
I taught myself to live simply and wisely,
to look at the sky and pray to God,
and to wander long before evening
to tire my superfluous worries.
When the burdocks rustle in the ravine
and the yellow-red rowanberry cluster droops
I compose happy verses
about life's decay, decay and beauty.
I come back. The fluffy cat
licks my palm, purrs so sweetly
and the fire flares bright
on the saw-mill turret by the lake.
Only the cry of a stork landing on the roof
occasionally breaks the silence.
If you knock on my door
I may not even hear.
