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Poem

Vasco Graça Moura

sentimental education

we often live according to a rash
notion of stark contrasts between good
and evil, greatness and wretchedness, the swift deeds
of an avid heroism and the inexorable march of destiny,

melodrama being part of our deepest nature,
obscurely but stubbornly nostalgic for the radical heart,
which races at top speed in contradictory dreams,
which engenders seductive images and thinks it lives in freedom,

but it’s merely reckless and explosive, it stumbles
into the world’s snares, into unexpected
treachery and death, or it must renounce in the face of the most
sublime flashes. passion rudely lacerates people

attached to happiness. the obstacles we meet
also have protagonists, scores to settle, cruel splendors,
feverish pursuits. and in desperate cases of love there’s no way out.
from that unbearable failure is born lyrical, unbridled  

melodrama, amid whirling, dizzying spurts
of blood and memory, of dashed hopes and tragic music,
in which someone dies, someone goes mad,
and someone is saved, and maybe someone writes down

the story, and someone else adds music
for the emotions to be more oppressive and perhaps more consuming
and facile, and someone desires this, it makes someone feel a shiver
of tingling banality, a voracious and unconfessed thrill.

para a educação sentimental

para a educação sentimental

tantas vezes se vive de uma arrebatada
noção dos contrastes mais fortes entre o bem e o
mal, entre a grandeza e a abjecção, entre as rápidas
peripécias de um heroísmo ansioso e o destino inexorável,

que o melodrama é da nossa mais funda natureza,
nostálgica, obscuramente nostálgica do coração radical,
do que vai à desfilada nos sonhos contraditórios,
do que engendra imagens capciosas e julga viver em liberdade,

mas é só imprudente e explosivo, mas esbarra
nas malhas deste mundo, nos imprevistos
da traição e da morte, ou tem de renunciar perante os rasgos
mais sublimes. a paixão dilacera bruscamente as personagens

apegadas à felicidade, os obstáculos
também têm protagonistas, ajustes de contas, cruéis fulgores,
perseguições, e nos casos desvairados de amor não há saída.
desse falhanço insuportável nasce o melodrama,

lírico, incontido, entre golfadas de espiral vertiginosa
com o sangue e a memória, com o que não tem remédio e a música trágica,
em que alguém vai morrer, alguém se perde alucinado,
e alguém se salva e porventura alguém escreve

a história e alguém lhe junta a música
para as emoções serem mais opressivas e talvez mais devoradoras
e mais fáceis, e alguém tem o desejo disso, um estremecimento
de arrepio e vulgaridade, um ávido prazer inconfessado.
Close

sentimental education

we often live according to a rash
notion of stark contrasts between good
and evil, greatness and wretchedness, the swift deeds
of an avid heroism and the inexorable march of destiny,

melodrama being part of our deepest nature,
obscurely but stubbornly nostalgic for the radical heart,
which races at top speed in contradictory dreams,
which engenders seductive images and thinks it lives in freedom,

but it’s merely reckless and explosive, it stumbles
into the world’s snares, into unexpected
treachery and death, or it must renounce in the face of the most
sublime flashes. passion rudely lacerates people

attached to happiness. the obstacles we meet
also have protagonists, scores to settle, cruel splendors,
feverish pursuits. and in desperate cases of love there’s no way out.
from that unbearable failure is born lyrical, unbridled  

melodrama, amid whirling, dizzying spurts
of blood and memory, of dashed hopes and tragic music,
in which someone dies, someone goes mad,
and someone is saved, and maybe someone writes down

the story, and someone else adds music
for the emotions to be more oppressive and perhaps more consuming
and facile, and someone desires this, it makes someone feel a shiver
of tingling banality, a voracious and unconfessed thrill.

sentimental education

we often live according to a rash
notion of stark contrasts between good
and evil, greatness and wretchedness, the swift deeds
of an avid heroism and the inexorable march of destiny,

melodrama being part of our deepest nature,
obscurely but stubbornly nostalgic for the radical heart,
which races at top speed in contradictory dreams,
which engenders seductive images and thinks it lives in freedom,

but it’s merely reckless and explosive, it stumbles
into the world’s snares, into unexpected
treachery and death, or it must renounce in the face of the most
sublime flashes. passion rudely lacerates people

attached to happiness. the obstacles we meet
also have protagonists, scores to settle, cruel splendors,
feverish pursuits. and in desperate cases of love there’s no way out.
from that unbearable failure is born lyrical, unbridled  

melodrama, amid whirling, dizzying spurts
of blood and memory, of dashed hopes and tragic music,
in which someone dies, someone goes mad,
and someone is saved, and maybe someone writes down

the story, and someone else adds music
for the emotions to be more oppressive and perhaps more consuming
and facile, and someone desires this, it makes someone feel a shiver
of tingling banality, a voracious and unconfessed thrill.
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Gemeente Rotterdam
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Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
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