Emily Dickinson IV

449

Morri pelo Belo – mas mal
Ajustara-me à Tumba
Quando Um que se foi por Verdade
Pôs-se comigo junto –

Doce indagou “Por que morreu?”
“Pelo Belo”, falei –
“E eu – por Verdade – que é o Mesmo –
Irmãos, somos”, me disse –

E então, qual Parentes, à Noite -
Falávamos das Tumbas -
Até que o Musgo nos beijando –
Cobrisse-nos - os nomes -


(tradução: Thiago Ponce de Moraes)


I died for Beauty – but was scarce
Adjusted in the Tomb
When One who died for Truth, was lain
In an adjoining room –

He questioned softly "Why I failed"?
"For Beauty", I replied –
"And I – for Truth – Themself are One –
We Brethren, are", He said –

And so, as Kinsmen, met a Night –
We talked between the Rooms –
Until the Moss had reached our lips –
And covered up – our names –


(Emily Dickinson. In: The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson)