Não mude de assunto, o medo te pegou.
Se descalço as pedras mordem os teus
pés, de pé, pisas as agulhas da vida e a
tua vida sangra.
Não chore os tombos que imaginas ter
caído.
Esqueça os braços que fingem te
amparar.
Melhor, esqueça tudo!
Deixe o "tudo" esquecido onde ele
costuma repousar.
O que choras não melhora a tua vida.
Os motivos pelos quais vertes as tuas
lágrimas não se importam contigo.
Os palpites são vãs, não sabem o que
dizem, não mudam a situação.
Vire o tropeço do avesso e ele não
balbuciará sequer um terço.
Em meio aos "senãos", tempestades
desabam sobre a certeza e esta,
transpirando dúvidas, treme.
O medo, quando com medo,
envergonhado, diz estar tremendo de
frio.
O susto, causador da tua agonia, se só,
se furta a ficar no escuro, as cismas o
aflige ele tem medo do tropeço.
O Observador- Brasília, Janeiro de 2014
&
Scream if the scare is big!
Don't change the subject, fear has caught you.
If barefoot, the stones bite your
feet, standing, you tread on the needles of life and your
your life bleeds.
Don't cry the falls you imagine having taken.
Forget the arms that pretend to support you.
Better, forget everything!
Leave the "everything" forgotten where it
usually rests.
What you cry about doesn't improve your life.
The reasons why you shed your
tears don't care about you.
The guesses are in vain, they don't know what
they say, they don't change the situation.
Turn the stumble inside out and it won't
he won't even stammer a pray.
Amid the "buts," storms
fall upon certainty and this,
sweating doubts, it trembles.
Fear, when in fear,
embarrassed, says he is trembling from
cold.
The fright, the cause of your agony, if only,
avoids staying in the dark, the brooding thoughts
it afflicts him, he is afraid of stumbling.
Don't change the subject, fear has caught you.
If barefoot, the stones bite your
feet, standing, you tread on the needles of life and your
your life bleeds.
Don't cry the falls you imagine having taken.
Forget the arms that pretend to support you.
Better, forget everything!
Leave the "everything" forgotten where it
usually rests.
What you cry about doesn't improve your life.
The reasons why you shed your
tears don't care about you.
The guesses are in vain, they don't know what
they say, they don't change the situation.
Turn the stumble inside out and it won't
he won't even stammer a pray.
Amid the "buts," storms
fall upon certainty and this,
sweating doubts, it trembles.
Fear, when in fear,
embarrassed, says he is trembling from
cold.
The fright, the cause of your agony, if only,
avoids staying in the dark, the brooding thoughts
it afflicts him, he is afraid of stumbling.
&





