segunda-feira, maio 16, 2005


A queda da árvore do terror

The Fall

I’ve come down a lot on the tree of terror:
    scorned I used
    to risk the thin bending lofts
        where shaking with stars
I fell asleep, rattled, wakened, and wept:

I’ve come down a lot from the skinny
    cone-locked lofts
    past the grabbers and tearers
        past the shooing limbs, past the fang-set

and hate-shocked mouths:
    I rest on sturdier branches and sometimes
    risk a word
        that shakes the tree with laughter or reproof—
am prized for that:

I’ve come down into the
    odor and warmth
    of others: so much so that I
        sometimes hit the ground and go
off a ways looking, trying out:

if startled, I break for the tree,
    shiny up to safety, the eyes and
    mouths large and hands working to my concern:
        my risks and escapes are occasionally
spoken of, approved: I’ve come down a lot.

— A. R. Ammons.

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