Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Rui Cóias

TIME AND MEMORY

In any given moment, in the beginning and in the end,
in the measure of a life time, downcast by full sorrow,
we remain without tomorrow or principle,
faded in age and distance, plundered by untruths,
only able to gather sand in some recreation ground,
drawing lines through the dust that bears our understanding,
pretending there’s some lucky charm against the impossible return.
There’s no truce, we can’t go back, and soundless
we shift away towards there where we call from afar
through the rarefied air, amongst the branches, the plane trees of yesterday,
figures compressed into shapeless white dirt,
in so many countless death similes.
Sensing decay, this intimate decline of all there is,
fully aware of incertitude as the exhibited sign of memory
which exposes each breath of time as its own hoax
and denies us the slightest parting from forsakenness
since we exist for nothing, we only wave, and we wave
if not only to admit that which we believe didn’t happen
except to understand the fair acceptance of our living.

TEMPO E MEMÓRIA

TEMPO E MEMÓRIA

Em qualquer momento, no começo e no fim,
na medida de toda a vida, prostrados de toda a pena,
permanecemos sem amanhã nem princípio,
esbatidos na idade e na distância, saqueados na mentira,
apenas juntando a areia ao fundo de um recreio,
riscando a areia escorada do nosso entendimento,
a simular um amuleto contra o regresso impossível.
Não temos trégua, não podemos voltar, e sem
ruído afastamo-nos para onde de longe chamamos
no ar rarefeito, entre os ramos, dos plátanos de ontem,
figuras resumidas a uma branca poeira informe,
em quantas inumeráveis semelhanças com a morte.
Pressentida ruína, a do íntimo declínio disto tudo,
demais cientes na incerteza como sinal exposto da memória,
que esmaga cada braçada do tempo ao seu embuste,
e nos recusa a menor separação do abandono,
porque por nada existimos, e só acenamos, e acenamos,
senão para crer no que julgamos não ter acontecido,
senão para entender a justa aceitação da nossa vida.
Close

TIME AND MEMORY

In any given moment, in the beginning and in the end,
in the measure of a life time, downcast by full sorrow,
we remain without tomorrow or principle,
faded in age and distance, plundered by untruths,
only able to gather sand in some recreation ground,
drawing lines through the dust that bears our understanding,
pretending there’s some lucky charm against the impossible return.
There’s no truce, we can’t go back, and soundless
we shift away towards there where we call from afar
through the rarefied air, amongst the branches, the plane trees of yesterday,
figures compressed into shapeless white dirt,
in so many countless death similes.
Sensing decay, this intimate decline of all there is,
fully aware of incertitude as the exhibited sign of memory
which exposes each breath of time as its own hoax
and denies us the slightest parting from forsakenness
since we exist for nothing, we only wave, and we wave
if not only to admit that which we believe didn’t happen
except to understand the fair acceptance of our living.

TIME AND MEMORY

In any given moment, in the beginning and in the end,
in the measure of a life time, downcast by full sorrow,
we remain without tomorrow or principle,
faded in age and distance, plundered by untruths,
only able to gather sand in some recreation ground,
drawing lines through the dust that bears our understanding,
pretending there’s some lucky charm against the impossible return.
There’s no truce, we can’t go back, and soundless
we shift away towards there where we call from afar
through the rarefied air, amongst the branches, the plane trees of yesterday,
figures compressed into shapeless white dirt,
in so many countless death similes.
Sensing decay, this intimate decline of all there is,
fully aware of incertitude as the exhibited sign of memory
which exposes each breath of time as its own hoax
and denies us the slightest parting from forsakenness
since we exist for nothing, we only wave, and we wave
if not only to admit that which we believe didn’t happen
except to understand the fair acceptance of our living.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère