quinta-feira, março 31, 2005
What poetry is, XVII
Poetry in other words
is the gilded tongue of silence.
Unimaginable when absent,
self-evident when present.
God created, they say,
the temporal out of the eternal.
The poet simply undoes
by bits and pieces
This blunder.
Harry Mulisch, What Poetry Is, XVII
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is the gilded tongue of silence.
Unimaginable when absent,
self-evident when present.
God created, they say,
the temporal out of the eternal.
The poet simply undoes
by bits and pieces
This blunder.
Harry Mulisch, What Poetry Is, XVII
