The Sun

(Para ler devagar, saboreando cada estrofe, cada palavra; assim se deve ler Mary Oliver!)

Have you ever seen

anything

in your life

more wonderful

than the way the Sun,

relaxed and easy

floats towards the horizon

and into the clouds or the hills,

or the rumpled sea,

and is gone —

and how it slides again

out of the blackness,

every morning

on the other side of the world,

like a red flower

streaming upward on its heavenly oils,

say, on a morning in early summer,

at its perfect imperial distance —

and have you ever felt for anything

such wild love —

do you think there is anywhere, in any language,

a word billowing enough

for the pleasure

that fills you,

as the sun

reaches out,

as it warms you

as you stand there,

empty-handed —

or have you too

turned from this world —

or have you too

gone crazy

for power,

for things?

  Mary Oliver

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Créditos

Poema: Mary Oliver (2005), de New and Selected Poems (volume 1). Beacon Press.

Foto: Sun in the fog, por Marcus Ramberg (Flickr).

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