mais que ave doce eras a águia
mais que ave
foste voo em céu pardacento
e pousavas sobre os ombros das nuvens
para entoares o teu canto
que encantava a fala do vento
espalhando a tua palavra
quantos deuses te libertaram
para que não tivesses máscaras nem a vil duplicidade
para que a tua voz fosse ouvida
entre o dedilhar de uma lira
a razão que te assistia e que não podias calar
acusando quem te quis usar ou atingir
entre a tua força e a tua fragilidade
o teu único medo era estar só
– só a noite o vazio e a muda solidão
medo de não agarrar a vida
que na soma dos anos te fugia
sem que a pudesses agarrar
como agarra a águia mesmo do ar
apanhar a sua presa na pomba a esvoaçar no céu
sem cair em terra ou no mar
eras lira e eras ira
doce no afagar dura com quem te ‘’picava’’
foste bruxa e foste fada pitonisa
amante lua cheia corda de guitarra
a trinar em noite de versos e acordes de piano
num diálogo entre Chopin e Mozart
sobre o teclado os teus dedos
fizeram emudecer as teclas num orgíaco silêncio
e partiste como se fosses o último raio de sol num fim de tarde
e fosses o derradeiro solfejo
que a noite guardou na esperança
de ressuscitares no leito onde adormeceste para a vida
se te levaram da ilha
monja de luto embarcada
que ilha nunca esquecida
as cinzas fruto do teu corpo
– de novo à ilha voltaram
Victor de Lima Meireles
13 de Setembro de 2023
more than a gentle bird you were the eagle
more than a bird
you were flight beneath an ashen sky
and you would alight upon the shoulders of clouds
to summon forth your song
bewitching the very language of the wind
and scattering your word
how many gods set you free
so you would wear no masks nor suffer vile duplicity
so that your voice might be heard
amid the plucking of a lyre
the truth that stood beside you and that you could not silence
indicting those who sought to use or wound you
between your strength and your fragility
your only fear was to be alone
alone the night the void and voiceless solitude
the fear of failing to hold fast to life
which in the gathering of the years slipped from you
before your hands could seize it
as the eagle seizes even from the air
its prey the dove fluttering through the sky
without falling to earth or into the sea
you were lyre and you were ire
tender in the caress fierce with those who “pricked” you
you were witch and fairy prophetess
lover full moon guitar string
trilling through a night of verses and piano chords
in a dialogue between Chopin and Mozart
upon the keyboard your fingers
hushed the keys into an orgiastic silence
and you departed as though you were the final shaft of sunlight at dusk
as though you were the last solfeggio
that night kept cradled in hope
that you would rise again upon the bed
where you fell asleep into life
if you were carried away from the island
a black-robed nun embarked in mourning
what island could ever forget you
the ashes fruit of your body
— returned once more to the island
Translation by Diniz Borges