"Tenho um encontro com a morte.
Talvez ele me tome a mão
para levar-me à terra escura,
sustar-me o olhar e o coração...
Mas tenho um encontro com a morte,
à meia-noite nalgum ponto,
quando, este ano a primavera
voltar a florir no Norte.
Serei fiel ao meu encontro."
Alan Seeger
Conheci esse poema aos 12 anos, em um livro da Editora Três que ganhei de minha mãe, com uma versão bastante simplificada do poema,mas que me marcou profundamente.
O que me encanta é essa aceitação... Essa espera tranquila...
Não há o que temer.
I have a Rendezvous with Death
I have a rendezvous with Death
At some disputed barricade,
When Spring comes back with rustling shade
And apple-blossoms fill the air—
I have a rendezvous with Death
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.
It may be he shall take my hand
And lead me into his dark land
And close my eyes and quench my breath—
It may be I shall pass him still.
I have a rendezvous with Death
On some scarred slope of battered hill,
When Spring comes round again this year
And the first meadow-flowers appear.
God knows 'twere better to be deep
Pillowed in silk and scented down,
Where love throbs out in blissful sleep,
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,
Where hushed awakenings are dear . . .
But I've a rendezvous with Death
At midnight in some flaming town,
When Spring trips north again this year,
And I to my pledged word am true,
I shall not fail that rendezvous.
At some disputed barricade,
When Spring comes back with rustling shade
And apple-blossoms fill the air—
I have a rendezvous with Death
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.
It may be he shall take my hand
And lead me into his dark land
And close my eyes and quench my breath—
It may be I shall pass him still.
I have a rendezvous with Death
On some scarred slope of battered hill,
When Spring comes round again this year
And the first meadow-flowers appear.
God knows 'twere better to be deep
Pillowed in silk and scented down,
Where love throbs out in blissful sleep,
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,
Where hushed awakenings are dear . . .
But I've a rendezvous with Death
At midnight in some flaming town,
When Spring trips north again this year,
And I to my pledged word am true,
I shall not fail that rendezvous.
Alan Seeger (22 de junho de 1888 - 4 de Julho de 1916) foi um poeta americano que lutou e morreu na Primeira Guerra Mundial servindo na Legião Estrangeira Francesa .
