For Life I had never cared greatly,
As worth a man's while;
Peradventures unsought,
Peradventures that finished in nought,
Had kept me from youth and through manhood till lately
Unwon by its style.
In earliest years--why I know not -
I viewed it askance;
Conditions of doubt,
Conditions that leaked slowly out,
May haply have bent me to stand and to show not
Much zest for its dance.
With symphonies soft and sweet colour
It courted me then,
Till evasions seemed wrong,
Till evasions gave in to its song,
And I warmed, until living aloofly loomed duller
Than life among men.
Anew I found nought to set eyes on,
When, lifting its hand,
It uncloaked a star,
Uncloaked it from fog-damps afar,
And showed its beams burning from pole to horizon
As bright as a brand.
And so, the rough highway forgetting,
I pace hill and dale
Regarding the sky,
Regarding the vision on high,
And thus re-illumed have no humour for letting
My pilgrimage fail.
(THOMAS HARDY)
As worth a man's while;
Peradventures unsought,
Peradventures that finished in nought,
Had kept me from youth and through manhood till lately
Unwon by its style.
In earliest years--why I know not -
I viewed it askance;
Conditions of doubt,
Conditions that leaked slowly out,
May haply have bent me to stand and to show not
Much zest for its dance.
With symphonies soft and sweet colour
It courted me then,
Till evasions seemed wrong,
Till evasions gave in to its song,
And I warmed, until living aloofly loomed duller
Than life among men.
Anew I found nought to set eyes on,
When, lifting its hand,
It uncloaked a star,
Uncloaked it from fog-damps afar,
And showed its beams burning from pole to horizon
As bright as a brand.
And so, the rough highway forgetting,
I pace hill and dale
Regarding the sky,
Regarding the vision on high,
And thus re-illumed have no humour for letting
My pilgrimage fail.
(THOMAS HARDY)
(Com a vida jamais me importei muito, como coisa que valesse a pena humana. Acasos, aventuras não buscadas, conjeturas, aventuras dando em nada, mantiveram-me, desde a juventude, e na madureza, e até recentemente, inconquistado pelo estilo dela.
Nos primeiros anos - não sei por que motivo - olhei-a de soslaio; condições de dúvida, condições que lentamente se esgueiravam, talvez por acaso me tenham forçado a permanecer de pé, sem demonstrar atração por sua dança.
Então, com suaves sinfonias, doces cores, ela me cortejou. Até que as evasões pareceram-me erradas, até que as evasões se deixaram vencer pela canção dela, e animei-me, até que viver distante pareceu mais insípido que viver entre os homens.
Mais uma vez nada encontrei onde deter o olhar, até que ela, erguendo a mão, despiu uma estrela, despiu-a de neblinas remotas e expôs seus raios brilhando no horizonte ao pólo, resplandecentes como tochas.
E assim, olvidando a áspera estrada, passeio por colinas e por vales, contemplando o céu, contemplando a visão superior, e assim reaceso não tenho coragem de deixar que fracasse minha peregrinação.)
(trad: Mário Faustino)
|