I feel the dead in the cold of violets
And that great vagueness in the moon.

The earth is doomed to be a ghost,
She who rocks all death in herself.


I know I sing at the edge of silence,
I know I dance around suspension,
Possess around dispossession.


I know I pass around the mute dead
And hold within myself my own death.


But I have lost my being in so many beings,
Died my life so many times,
Kissed my ghosts so many times,
Known nothing of my acts so many times,
That death will be simply like going
From inside the house into the street.

Sophia de Mello Breyner Andresen | “I Feel the Dead” trans. by Ruth Fainlight

(via ekphora.blogspot.com)

13 Notes/ Hide

  1. reflectrefract reblogged this from evoketheforms
  2. writing2011 reblogged this from evoketheforms
  3. bookville reblogged this from evoketheforms
  4. purple-ivy reblogged this from evoketheforms
  5. evoketheforms posted this