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    António Osório

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    I Still Take Refuge

    I still take refuge
    in your honeysuckle, Father.
    Over there, lush as ever,
    is the passion flower.
    The tall cedar, even taller.
    The stove, the smudged
    fingerprints on the doors.
    The bougainvillea, which needs
    to be pruned, I know. Mother
    isn’t here and isn’t coming back.
    © Translation: 2008, Richard Zenith

    AINDA ME ACOLHO

    AINDA ME ACOLHO

    Ainda me acolho, Pai,
    à tua madressilva.
    Ali tens a passiflora,
    não envelheceu.
    O cedro grande, maior ainda.
    O forno, dedadas
    expungidas pelas portas.
    A buganvília, não esqueço,
    é preciso cortá-la.
    A Mãe não está nem volta.
    © 1978, António Osório
    From: A ignorância da morte
    Publisher: Author\'s edition, Lisbon
    Poems
    Poems of António Osório
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    I Still Take Refuge

    I still take refuge
    in your honeysuckle, Father.
    Over there, lush as ever,
    is the passion flower.
    The tall cedar, even taller.
    The stove, the smudged
    fingerprints on the doors.
    The bougainvillea, which needs
    to be pruned, I know. Mother
    isn’t here and isn’t coming back.
    © 2008, Richard Zenith
    From: A ignorância da morte

    I Still Take Refuge

    I still take refuge
    in your honeysuckle, Father.
    Over there, lush as ever,
    is the passion flower.
    The tall cedar, even taller.
    The stove, the smudged
    fingerprints on the doors.
    The bougainvillea, which needs
    to be pruned, I know. Mother
    isn’t here and isn’t coming back.
    © 2008, Richard Zenith
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