Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Eugenio de Andrade

A Poet is dead...

Pomegranate / Granada/ RomãPosted by Hello

"Still Life with Fruit"

The morning blood of raspberries
chooses the whiteness of linen to love.

Morning filled with sparklings and sweetness
settles its purest face upon the apples.

In the orange, the sun and moon
are sleeping hand in hand.

Each grape knows by heart
the names of all of summer’s days.

In pomegranates, this I love—
the stillness in the center of the flame.

(Selected from "Forbidden Words: Selected Poetry of Eugenio de Andrade." Translated by Alexis Levitan, published by New Directions)

1 comment:

ballerina said...

beautiful..it would seem summer is here

(can't seem to find the blog you told me of my grandfather)