A velhice abraça o meu corpo que sob
o peso da
Idade tropeça e cai, cai morto.
Morto, o meu corpo encontra o repouso que a
Vida
lhe negou.
Morto o meu corpo abraça a paz com a qual
Tanto
sonhou.
Maduro o meu corpo cai!
Ele cai
seco, murcho como as folhas
Ressequidas, dispensadas pelo tempo e
Abandonadas pela vida.
Velho o meu corpo sofre a desventura de viver
A experiência de deixar de ser vida.
Ele vive o tormento de repensar o que entende
Ser a alegria, e enquanto admira os últimos
Raios do sol repousar sobre os montes suplica:
- Não vá embora, fique um pouco mais,
espere-me!
Tendo por pano de fundos os pássaros
Cantando, nas galhas secas das árvores, o
Resto de vida.
Da minha vida.
A vida me envelhece, enruga-me, e ao perceber
Que o meu corpo já não consegue
Acompanha-la, abandona-o.
O meu corpo cai!
O meu corpo cai como as pétalas secas
Sopradas
pelo vento.
No chão, a vida enterra o que resta do meu
Corpo.
Enterra-o quando este, já velho, não consegue
Mais suporta-la sobre os seu ombros.
A velhice, velha, é a linha de
chegada do
Destino.
A velhice é o ponto máximo onde o destino
Me permite chegar.
O destino é a sorte
dos que tem a sorte de
Envelhecer.
A velhice é lógica, mas também é ilógica
Quando nos entrega à morte.
A velhice é o destino que me prometeu a vida
Quando
nasci.
Ela é o principio de uma vida que, muitas
Vezes, desejei que não tivesse fim.
A velhice zomba dos sonhos que vivi, e dos
Sonhos que deixei para viver quando maduro.
Velho, sinto a velhice espremendo o meu
Corpo fazendo-o
doer.
A velhice, hoje, nega-me os prazeres que
Outrora me faziam feliz.
A velhice insiste em obrigar o meu corpo
caminhar de vagar, quando a vida tem mais
Pressa, e sem paciência, a ela o abandona no
Meio do caminho e o meu corpo sozinho não
Consegue acompanha-la e morre.
O Observador - Brasília, março de 2013
*
Old
Old age embraces my body, that under the weight of
Age stumbles and falls, falls dead.
Dead, my body finds the rest that
Life has denied to it.
Dead, my body embraces the peace with which
It so longed for.
Mature, my body falls!
It falls dry, withered like the
Dried leaves, discarded by time and
Abandoned by life.
Old, my body suffers the misfortune of to living
The experience of ceasing to live.
It lives the torment of rethinking what it understands
To be joy, and while admiring the last
Rays of the sun resting on the mountains, it pleads:
- Don't go away, stay a little longer,
Wait for me!
With the birds singing in the background, in the
Old age embraces my body, that under the weight of
Age stumbles and falls, falls dead.
Dead, my body finds the rest that
Life has denied to it.
Dead, my body embraces the peace with which
It so longed for.
Mature, my body falls!
It falls dry, withered like the
Dried leaves, discarded by time and
Abandoned by life.
Old, my body suffers the misfortune of to living
The experience of ceasing to live.
It lives the torment of rethinking what it understands
To be joy, and while admiring the last
Rays of the sun resting on the mountains, it pleads:
- Don't go away, stay a little longer,
Wait for me!
With the birds singing in the background, in the
Dry branches of the trees,
The rest of life.
Of my life.
Life ages me, wrinkles me, and upon realizing
That my body can no longer
Keep up with it, life abandons my body.
My body falls!
My body falls like the dry petals
Blown by the wind.
On the ground, life buries what remains of my
Body.
It buries my body when it, already old, can no longer
Bear life on its shoulders.
Old age, old, is the finish line of the
Destiny.
Old age is the highest point where destiny
Allows me to reach.
Destiny is the luck of those who are lucky enough to
Grow old.
Old age is logical, but it is also is illogical
When it delivers us to death.
Old age is the destiny that life promised me
When I was born.
It is the beginning of a life that, many
Times, I wished would never end.
Old age mocks the dreams I lived, and the
Dreams I left to live when mature.
Old, I feel the old age squeezing my
Body, making it ache.
The old age, today, denies me the pleasures that
Once made me happy.
Old age insists on forcing my body
To walk slowly, when life is in more of a
Hurry, and without patience, abandons it in the
Middle of the road, and my body alone
Cannot keep up with it and dies.
*
Of my life.
Life ages me, wrinkles me, and upon realizing
That my body can no longer
Keep up with it, life abandons my body.
My body falls!
My body falls like the dry petals
Blown by the wind.
On the ground, life buries what remains of my
Body.
It buries my body when it, already old, can no longer
Bear life on its shoulders.
Old age, old, is the finish line of the
Destiny.
Old age is the highest point where destiny
Allows me to reach.
Destiny is the luck of those who are lucky enough to
Grow old.
Old age is logical, but it is also is illogical
When it delivers us to death.
Old age is the destiny that life promised me
When I was born.
It is the beginning of a life that, many
Times, I wished would never end.
Old age mocks the dreams I lived, and the
Dreams I left to live when mature.
Old, I feel the old age squeezing my
Body, making it ache.
The old age, today, denies me the pleasures that
Once made me happy.
Old age insists on forcing my body
To walk slowly, when life is in more of a
Hurry, and without patience, abandons it in the
Middle of the road, and my body alone
Cannot keep up with it and dies.
*
