31

inverno
procissão de casacos negros
na saída do metrô

30

passantes habituados
ao metro lotado
e no entanto ninguém

29

vermelho invisível
sobre o cinza das ruas
rosas no inverno

You know, if it turns out that there is a God, I don't think that he's evil. I think that the worst you can say about him is that basically he's an underachiever.

28

céu cheio de nuvens
dia propício para
ver raios de sol

27

pela rua gelada ecoam
os gritos das gaivotas
abro um olho

26

ao longe uma gaivota
não sabia o mar
meu vizinho

25

a iluminação das ruas
se apaga
anunciando a aurora

24

mais frio que ontem
mais lenta a vida
o bairro hiberna

23

céu grafite
não tenho vontade
de sair

22

tsc tsc tsc
a neve arranhando
a janela

21

o mendigo dorme
o metro passa
quietinho

20

inverno
tua mão me traz
um pouco de calor

19

lá fora
ninguém
só o frio

philosopher's football

18

o ano-novo terminou:
um enfeite de natal solitário
no assento do ônibus

17

anoitecer de inverno
os escritórios iluminam
a calçada congelada

16

certas madrugadas
no escuro do meu quarto
a ausência de meu pai

15

contra a neve
o bêbado não avança
mas também não cai

14

manhã de inverno
o sol também faz
sua grasse matinée

13

meu olhar baixo
encontram o reflexo do céu
na calçada úmida

12

o Sena tão cheio
lembra a primavera
ainda o inverno

11

das poças na calçada
o reflexo cinzento
sol de inverno

one art

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three beloved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

10

em silêncio
percorro as notícias
de tragédias distantes

"There’s more evidence to come yet, please Your Majesty," said the White Rabbit, jumping up in a great hurry. "This paper has just been picked up. It seems to be a letter written by the prisoner to—to somebody." He unfolded the paper as he spoke and added, "It isn’t a letter, after all; it’s a set of verses."
"Please, Your Majesty," said the Knave, "I didn’t write it and they can’t prove that I did; there’s no name signed at the end." "You must have meant some mischief, or else you’d have signed your name like an honest man," said the King. There was a general clapping of hands at this.
"Read them," he added, turning to the White Rabbit.
There was dead silence in the court whilst the White Rabbit read out the verses.
"That’s the most important piece of evidence we’ve heard yet," said the King.
"I don’t believe there’s an atom of meaning in it," ventured Alice.
"If there’s no meaning in it," said the King, "that saves a world of trouble, you know, as we needn’t try to find any."

9

dias curtos
neste inverno
nesta vida

8

em fuga
nas ruas todos correm
do frio

7

um dia
após o outro
o ano engrena

6

o canto de um pássaro
pela madrugada gelada
só um

5

em meio ao cinza
as luzes dos escritórios
manhã de inverno

4

absorvido pelo novo ano
deixo partir meu chapéu
no metrô vazio

3

primeiros dias do novo ano
o metrô sai lentamente
da estação

2

ano novo, após o vôo
primeiro passo em terra
firme?

"Are you both crazy?" the doctor cried shrilly, backing away in paling confusion.
"Yes, he really is crazy, Doc," Dunbar assured him. "Every night he dreams he's holding a live fish in his hands."
The doctor stopped in his tracks with a look of elegant amazement and distaste, and the ward grew still. "He does what?" he demanded.
"He dreams he's holding a live fish in his hand."
"What kind of fish?" the doctor inquired sternly of Yossarian.
"I don't know," Yossarian answered. "I can't tell one kind of fish from another."
"In which hand do you hold them?"
"It varies," answered Yossarian.
"It varies with the fish," Dunbar added helpfully.
The colonel turned and stared down at Dunbar suspiciously with a narrow squint. "Yes? And how come you seem to know so much about it?"
"I'm in the dream," Dunbar answered without cracking a smile.

1

por baixo do nosso avião
o mesmo mundo gira
um novo ano passa