William Blake - The Tyger
The Tyger
....
Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies,
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare sieze the fire?
And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?
What the hammer? What the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp,
Dare its deadly terror clasp!
When the stars threw down their spears
And water'd heaven with their tears:
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb made thee?
Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies,
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare sieze the fire?
And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?
What the hammer? What the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp,
Dare its deadly terror clasp!
When the stars threw down their spears
And water'd heaven with their tears:
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb made thee?
Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
....
(William Blake. In: The Complete Illuminated Books)
Por Thiago Ponce de Moraes às 6:58 PM
3 Anátemas
há! finalmente apareceu o original desse tygre aí.
Este é o Tygre de fearful symmetry - aí há o real e primeiro burning bright, que nos cega a todos e nos faz querer rebrilhar, de algum jeito, em nossa língua em chamas o Tygre adentro, o Tygre em brasas.
Abraços.
e eu que traduzia tyger por tigre, mas mantinha, no entando, aquele ezinho comercial lá.
ai, ai, que tô criando celeuma.
abração pra tu, ponce.
paulo m
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