On reading an excerpt of a letter by Ramos Rosa, in Jornal de Letras
Farei como o poeta triste
que manchava as manhãs de tinta
porque a tarde, dava-a à leitura.
Tento o verso: não existe,
mesmo que me esforce e minta.
Resta-me a tarde e a literatura
para igualar o triste vate.
Toma lá, Ramos Rosa: Xeque-mate!
I'll do like the sad poet
who would stain the mornings in ink
for he kept the afternoon for reading.
I try the verse: it’s absent
even if I try hard and lie.
I'm left with the afternoon and literature
to emulate the sad bard.
There you have it, Ramos Rosa: Checkmate!
who would stain the mornings in ink
for he kept the afternoon for reading.
I try the verse: it’s absent
even if I try hard and lie.
I'm left with the afternoon and literature
to emulate the sad bard.
There you have it, Ramos Rosa: Checkmate!
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