Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Rui Lage

HANDGUN

Thanks for the memento, granddad:
you left me your handgun.
The trigger’s bent,
the barrel’s rusty,
and the job, with bullets of this caliber,
isn’t a sure thing
(you didn’t have to buy it from the gypsy
you used to drink with),
but no child will be able to spoil
the pessimism of this poem,
or arrive in time to avert its conclusion
– laughing, for instance, on the playground at school.

REVÓLVER

REVÓLVER

Agradeço-te a lembrança, avô:
deixaste-me o revólver na mão,
está empenado o gatilho,
tem ferrugem o cão,
o serviço, com balas deste calibre,
não é garantido
(escusavas de o ter comprado ao cigano
que bebia contigo),
mas criança alguma poderá estragar
o pessimismo deste poema,
ou vir a tempo de evitar o seu desfecho
– rindo, por exemplo, no recreio da escola.
Close

HANDGUN

Thanks for the memento, granddad:
you left me your handgun.
The trigger’s bent,
the barrel’s rusty,
and the job, with bullets of this caliber,
isn’t a sure thing
(you didn’t have to buy it from the gypsy
you used to drink with),
but no child will be able to spoil
the pessimism of this poem,
or arrive in time to avert its conclusion
– laughing, for instance, on the playground at school.

HANDGUN

Thanks for the memento, granddad:
you left me your handgun.
The trigger’s bent,
the barrel’s rusty,
and the job, with bullets of this caliber,
isn’t a sure thing
(you didn’t have to buy it from the gypsy
you used to drink with),
but no child will be able to spoil
the pessimism of this poem,
or arrive in time to avert its conclusion
– laughing, for instance, on the playground at school.
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