Móribus antiquis.
Virgilio
سراب (Mirage)
In English, In سهراب سپهري, In فارسي
سراب
سهراب سپهري
آفتاب است و، بيابان چه فراخ!نيست در آن نه گياه و نه درخت.
غير آواي غرابان، ديگر
بسته هر بانگي از اين وادي رخت.
در پس پردهيي از گرد و غبار
نقطهيي لرزد از دور سياه:
چشم اگر پيش رود، ميبيند
آدمي هست كه ميپويد راه.
تنش از خستگي افتاده ز كار.
بر سر و رويش بنشسته غبار.
شده از تشنگياش خشك گلو.
پاي عريانش مجروح ز خار.
هر قدم پيش رود، پاي افق
چشم او بيند دريايي آب.
اندكي راه چو ميپيمايد
ميكند فكر كه ميبيند خواب.
Mirage
Sohrab Sepehri (Irán)
The sun is shining, the plain how wide!But void of herbs and trees, it is barren,
Except crows crowing at every side
Every sound has departed from this plain.
A dark spot trembles from afar, a blot,
Behind a thick veil of dust,
But when you advance and gaze at the spot
You see a man marching in the dust.
Tired from labor his body is in stress,
Besides, his body by dust is surrounded,
From thirst his throat is dry. In that place
His bare feet by thorns are wounded.
As he advances in the waste on and on
He can see a sea of water in the rim,
But when eyeing father in the horizon
It occurs to him that it is a dream.
Se non fosse perché...
In Italiano, In Pablo Neruda
Pablo Neruda (Cile)
Se non fosse perché i tuoi occhi hanno color di luna,di giorno con argilla, con lavoro, con fuoco,
e tieni imprigionata l'agilità dell'aria,
se non fosse perché sei una settimana d'ambra,
se non fosse perché sei il momento giallo
in cui l'autunno sale su pei rampicanti
e anche sei il pane che la luna fragrante
elabora passeggiando la sua farina pel cielo,
oh, adorata, io non t'amerei!
Nel tuo abbraccio io abbraccio ciò ch'esiste,
l'arena, il tempo, l'albero della pioggia,
e tutto vive perché io viva:
senz'andare sì lungi posso veder tutto:
vedo nella tua vita tutto ciò che vive.
The Negro Mother
In English, In Langston Hughes
The Negro Mother
Langston Hughes (USA)
Children, I come back todayTo tell you a story of the long dark way
That I had to climb, that I had to know
In order that the race might live and grow.
Look at my face -- dark as the night --
Yet shining like the sun with love's true light.
I am the dark girl who crossed the red sea
Carrying in my body the seed of the free.
I am the woman who worked in the field
Bringing the cotton and the corn to yield.
I am the one who labored as a slave,
Beaten and mistreated for the work that I gave --
Children sold away from me, I'm husband sold, too.
No safety , no love, no respect was I due.
Three hundred years in the deepest South:
But God put a song and a prayer in my mouth .
God put a dream like steel in my soul.
Now, through my children, I'm reaching the goal.
Now, through my children, young and free,
I realized the blessing deed to me.
I couldn't read then. I couldn't write.
I had nothing, back there in the night.
Sometimes, the valley was filled with tears,
But I kept trudging on through the lonely years.
Sometimes, the road was hot with the sun,
But I had to keep on till my work was done:
I had to keep on! No stopping for me --
I was the seed of the coming Free.
I nourished the dream that nothing could smother
Deep in my breast -- the Negro mother.
I had only hope then , but now through you,
Dark ones of today, my dreams must come true:
All you dark children in the world out there,
Remember my sweat, my pain, my despair.
Remember my years, heavy with sorrow --
And make of those years a torch for tomorrow.
Make of my pass a road to the light
Out of the darkness, the ignorance, the night.
Lift high my banner out of the dust.
Stand like free men supporting my trust.
Believe in the right, let none push you back.
Remember the whip and the slaver's track.
Remember how the strong in struggle and strife
Still bar you the way, and deny you life --
But march ever forward, breaking down bars.
Look ever upward at the sun and the stars.
Oh, my dark children, may my dreams and my prayers
Impel you forever up the great stairs --
For I will be with you till no white brother
Dares keep down the children of the Negro Mother.
Casamento
In Adélia Prado, In Português
Casamento
Adélia Prado (Brasil)
Há mulheres que dizem:
Meu marido, se quiser pescar, pesque,
mas que limpe os peixes.
Eu não. A qualquer hora da noite me levanto,
ajudo a escamar, abrir, retalhar e salgar.
É tão bom, só a gente sozinhos na cozinha,
de vez em quando os cotovelos se esbarram,
ele fala coisas como "este foi difícil"
"prateou no ar dando rabanadas"
e faz o gesto com a mão.
O silêncio de quando nos vimos a primeira vez
atravessa a cozinha como um rio profundo.
Por fim, os peixes na travessa,
vamos dormir.
Coisas prateadas espocam:
somos noivo e noiva.
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