terça-feira, junho 26, 2007


Strange to know nothing, never to be sure
Of what is true or right or real,
But forced to qualify
or so I feel,
Or Well, it does seem so:
Someone must know.

Strange to be ignorant of the way things work:
Their skill at finding what they need,
Their sense of shape, and punctual spread of seed,
And willingness to change;
Yes, it is strange,

Even to wear such knowledge - for our flesh
Surrounds us with its own decisions -
And yet spend all our life on imprecisions,
That when we start to die
Have no idea why.

Philip Larkin, The Whitsun Weddings (1964).

1 comentário:

Kanoff disse...

Em qualquer cidade, vila ou aldeia de Portugal a parte velha é sempre mais bonita do que a nova?