5 de dezembro de 2007

Lent et douloureux

Do not sleep, sleeping beauty. Listen to the voice of your Truelove. He skips a rigadoon. He loves you so. He is a poet. Can you hear him? Is he just sniggering? No, he adores you sweet Beauty! He skips another rigadoon and catches a cold. Don't you want to love him? He is a poet, though, an old poet! * I had a dog once who secretly smoked all my cigars. It made him ill in his tummy. And that upset his Daddy terribly. * Advise yourself most carefully. Gird yourself with perceptiveness. Alone, for a moment. So as to make a hollow. Very lost. Carry that further. Open your head. Bury the sound. * The lapping of water in a river bed. A fish comes, then another, then two more. -What is it? -It's a fisherman, a poor fisherman. -Thank you. Everyone goes home, including the fisherman. The lapping of water in a river bed. * He hums a XVth century air. Then, he pays himself a nicely fitting compliment. Who will dare to say he is not the most handsome? His heart is tender, is it not? He puts is arm around his waist. He finds it quite ravishing. What will the pretty marchioness say? She will struggle, but be overcome. Yes, Madam. Is it not written thus?

Erik Satie

Tradução de Antony Melville | Archives de la Fondation Erik Satie