Saturday, September 30, 2006

Disenchantment/Desencanto - Manuel Bandeira


I write these lines as one weeping,

Discouraged ... disenchanted ...

Close my book, if, for the moment

You have no reason for tears.

My poetry is blood. Consuming ecstasy ...

Scattered sadness ... vain remorse ...

My veins ache from it, bitter and hot,

Falling drop by drop from my heart.

And these verses hoarse with anguish

Burst like my life between parted lips.

Leaving a bitter taste in my mouth

--I write these lines as one dying.

found at World Literature Today


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