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O heavy day that comes with so much glee

O heavy day that comes with so much glee
Out of the East.
It turquoises the silence of the sea
And makes a feast
Of blueness of the waves that shiver and flee.

O heavy day because my love hath gone
And taken away
His white arms and his lips like poppies grown
Athwart that day
When I first saw him and felt my heart moan.

My hands are stretched towards his coming, and
He cometh not.
He seems a woman and his gesturing hand
Too oft bath wrought
Dreams of strange vice with him through my heart's sand.

He is scarce more than a child. His body is white,
His arms lie bare
Across my neck and cling like a delight
Of which my share
Is painful like a far sail in the night.

Oh, love, return! All this is dreams of thee
Return and wake
My trembling frame to that vile misery
That love doth take
For his body when the lovers are such as we.

Golden‑haired boy that cannot love me so
As I love him,
Look, life is short, our lips fade... Ay, I know
I am ugly and dim
But love a little or seem... Love me and go
Yet love ere going, and then let me dream
On what was real while life fades and goes slow...
👁️ 1 386

Floriu a roseira toda

Floriu a roseira toda
Com as rosas de trepar...
Tua cabeça anda à roda
Mas sabes-te equilibrar.
👁️ 1 390

ARETHUSA

Still Arethusa keeps her course,
For, though the corporal dark of earth
Stifle, like an unconscious nurse,
The impulse for her second birth,
Yet her true will must ever be
These captive waves that shall be free.

So the forgotten water ever
With withdrawn life and hid emotion
Moves on in darkness, still a river,
Towards a sun upon an ocean;
And the found place there will not cease
To be the river's, not the sea's.

So keeps she, under the void dark
Of her oppressed seclusion still
Her careful self, whose soul shall work
Towards the outlet from the hill,
Past hived vaults and humid walls
And her dropped noise of waterfalls.
Uncaught throughout the spell of caves,
Forlorn under the mother stone,
Still the great destined river craves
Its purpose, liquid and alone,
And more, yet less, under the hills
Its unresisting motion wills.

And ever, while time frets the rocks
And space shuts dark the godless flow,
She runs, a will in waves that flocks
Around a darkness for a glow;
And onward still, because it is
What shall be, and the Gods are this.

And, still remembering to forget,
Still onward because Fate inclines,
Veiled Arethusa still doth wet
With purpose the weird cavern shrines,
Where, past their blind, dead, solid being,
Her watery will moves on to seeing.

Dim under phosphorescent zones
Of darkness wronged and stalactites,
Or complete darkness, where the moans
Of waters wail for destined sights,
Her course, that knows no day, doth still
Work out to day its nightly will.

Till, bright at last in the aired arms
Of the lone rocks laid in the sea,
Bare Arethusa free her charms
To light and to its panic glee,
And the sea clasp her, as she were
Venus there born and mistress there.
👁️ 1 472

37 - SONG

Lilies cast and roses throw
In the way that she must go
Whom the singing planets hymn,
Sister of the seraphim!

Shifting motes of early sun
In the morning freshness spun
To light dresses for the breeze -
Clothe her coming such as these!

Shadows purple, fountain breaths,
Low mists such as dawning wreathes
Round the tree‑tops - these be made
Hers, for whom spring's feast is laid!

She to us from heaven descended
That dreams might with earth seem blended,
And unquietness more blest
Mingle with our life's unrest.

These the chosen offerings
From what earthly deep joy sings -
These to her we daily bear
Lest she pine for heaven here.
👁️ 1 430

II - Dói viver, nada sou que valha ser.

II

Dói viver, nada sou que valha ser.
Tardo-me porque penso e tudo rui.
Tento saber, porque tentar é ser.
Longe de isto ser tudo, tudo flui.

Mágoa que, indiferente, faz viver.
Névoa que, diferente, em tudo influi.
O exílio nada do que foi sequer
Ilude, fixa, dá, faz ou possui.

Assim, nocturna, a áreas indecisas,
O prelúdio perdido traz à mente
O que das ilhas mortas foi só brisas,

E o que a memória análoga dedica
Ao sonho, e onde, lua na corrente,
Não passa o sonho e a água inútil fica.
👁️ 1 264

O guardanapo dobrado

O guardanapo dobrado
Quer dizer que se não volta.
Tenho o coração atado:
Vê se a tua mão mo solta.
👁️ 1 387

Uma boneca de trapos

Uma boneca de trapos
Não se parte se cair.
Fizeste-me a alma em farrapos...
Bem: não se pode partir.
👁️ 1 540

Se te queres despedir

Se te queres despedir
Não te despidas de mim,
Que eu não posso consentir
Que tu me trates assim.
👁️ 1 096

Quando há música, parece

Quando há música, parece
Que dormes, e assim te calas,
Mas se a música falece
Acordo, e não me falas.
👁️ 1 447

Eu bem sei que me desdenhas

Eu bem sei que me desdenhas
Mas gosto que seja assim,
Que o desdém que por mim tenhas
Sempre é pensares em mim.
👁️ 1 192

Comentários (17)

Iniciar sessão ToPostComment
Gabriel
Gabriel
2025-09-17

What?

ademir domingos zanotelli
ademir domingos zanotelli
2025-07-27

Simplesmente um pensador ( tão grande) pois todos nós temos máscaras, nossos sentimentos são todos ocultos na nossa eterna alma. fantástico este texto para sua época vivida.

rodrigl
rodrigl
2023-12-01

cmt

tomaslopes
tomaslopes
2023-06-23

O maior e mais pensador poeta para a sua antiga época. O maior e mais revolucionista da literatura portuguesa, com os seus poemas e textos que enchem a alma de pensamentos. Tem um forma única de se expressar e ditar o que vem da sua alma, como ele dizia " Quem tem alma não tem calma".

mcegonha
mcegonha
2023-04-21

O profeta dos poetas!