<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3877874022709064813</id><updated>2024-11-01T22:56:33.399-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Poesia de Yeats</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apoesiadeyeats.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3877874022709064813/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apoesiadeyeats.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Tayná</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08988643529195868895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBiJWXQpt-i1YbL7mRwM6k0P-qJqG4N3rfNha0fF8d1dOVeYKA8rIPBCdJiRZ1zt2nTtUjXB_yAyCa_3LGzYxWzia6_AYJJj2t-VeormwpDEyMg_q118ATw1Zgp6UbGQ/s220/30725694_10204465974087414_3416957078822977536_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3877874022709064813.post-3093727268895961163</id><published>2010-03-12T09:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-04-19T06:33:25.264-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Morte</title><content type='html'>Medo não tem, nem esperança,&lt;br /&gt;
Um animal a agonizar:&lt;br /&gt;
Aguarda um homem o seu fim,&lt;br /&gt;
Tudo a temer, tudo a esperar;&lt;br /&gt;
Já muitas vezes morreu ele,&lt;br /&gt;
As muitas vezes retornando.&lt;br /&gt;
Em seu orgulho, um grande homem,&lt;br /&gt;
Homens que matam enfrentando,&lt;br /&gt;
Sobre a substituição da vida&lt;br /&gt;
Atira um menosprezo forte;&lt;br /&gt;
Sabe ele a morte até os ossos&lt;br /&gt;
- Foi o homem quem criou a morte.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;(Tradução de Péricles Eugênio da Silva Ramos)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivcdetd9seS3F2ZqLY6jWEoKIFuxIYAMmTEJwcwkV5Bn2PUkDuDmzWU4_ukr2hQgkUE0e19QIGraLrIvkqhhS0L1Vs1fvcSO9eT3UpqztVl-1fNww8jcrKsB2sjgYsRxu4O0I3XRybSmyJ/s1600-h/yeats.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivcdetd9seS3F2ZqLY6jWEoKIFuxIYAMmTEJwcwkV5Bn2PUkDuDmzWU4_ukr2hQgkUE0e19QIGraLrIvkqhhS0L1Vs1fvcSO9eT3UpqztVl-1fNww8jcrKsB2sjgYsRxu4O0I3XRybSmyJ/s320/yeats.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;W. B. Yeats&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Original em Inglês:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Death&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Nor dread nor hope attend&lt;br /&gt;
A dying animal;&lt;br /&gt;
A man awaits his end&lt;br /&gt;
Dreading and hoping all;&lt;br /&gt;
Many times he died,&lt;br /&gt;
Many times rose again.&lt;br /&gt;
A great man in his pride&lt;br /&gt;
Confronting murderous men&lt;br /&gt;
Casts derision upon&lt;br /&gt;
Supersession of breath;&lt;br /&gt;
He knows death to the bone -&lt;br /&gt;
Man has created death.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apoesiadeyeats.blogspot.com/feeds/3093727268895961163/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://apoesiadeyeats.blogspot.com/2010/03/morte.html#comment-form' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3877874022709064813/posts/default/3093727268895961163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3877874022709064813/posts/default/3093727268895961163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apoesiadeyeats.blogspot.com/2010/03/morte.html' title='Morte'/><author><name>Tayná</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08988643529195868895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBiJWXQpt-i1YbL7mRwM6k0P-qJqG4N3rfNha0fF8d1dOVeYKA8rIPBCdJiRZ1zt2nTtUjXB_yAyCa_3LGzYxWzia6_AYJJj2t-VeormwpDEyMg_q118ATw1Zgp6UbGQ/s220/30725694_10204465974087414_3416957078822977536_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivcdetd9seS3F2ZqLY6jWEoKIFuxIYAMmTEJwcwkV5Bn2PUkDuDmzWU4_ukr2hQgkUE0e19QIGraLrIvkqhhS0L1Vs1fvcSO9eT3UpqztVl-1fNww8jcrKsB2sjgYsRxu4O0I3XRybSmyJ/s72-c/yeats.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3877874022709064813.post-7768070795127402839</id><published>2009-09-26T09:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T09:53:31.689-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aquelas Imagens</title><content type='html'>E se eu mandasse que deixásseis&lt;br /&gt;
A caverna da mente?&lt;br /&gt;
Há na luz do sol e no vento&lt;br /&gt;
Exercício mais conveniente.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A Moscou ou a Roma&lt;br /&gt;
Nunca vos mandei viajar,&lt;br /&gt;
Renunciai a esta maçada,&lt;br /&gt;
Chamai as Musas para o lar.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Procurai aquelas imagens&lt;br /&gt;
Que constituem a terra bruta,&lt;br /&gt;
O leão e a virgem,&lt;br /&gt;
A criança e a prostituta.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Uma águia voando&lt;br /&gt;
Achai no meio do ar,&lt;br /&gt;
Reconhecei as cinco&lt;br /&gt;
Que fazem as musas cantar.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: x-small;&quot;&gt;(Tradução de Péricles Eugênio da Silva Ramos)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5KB_SpjII-DXUckbDYBcpQgpvYlJ3NfroShgskvmE9xS7gPvRNQOCkwyjlP4FiUf73GGWgaIlxlTWncQmocrm9cKhKjqOAKEa31d5H6DwdedIJPL2mUejTWM6gypX86Fh-Bv0diImZAwe/s1600-h/renoir_meadow.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; iq=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5KB_SpjII-DXUckbDYBcpQgpvYlJ3NfroShgskvmE9xS7gPvRNQOCkwyjlP4FiUf73GGWgaIlxlTWncQmocrm9cKhKjqOAKEa31d5H6DwdedIJPL2mUejTWM6gypX86Fh-Bv0diImZAwe/s320/renoir_meadow.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Original em Inglês:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Those images&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;What if I bade you leave&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;The cavern of the mind?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;There&#39;s better exercise&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;In the sunlight and wind.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;I never bade you go&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;To Moscow or to Rome,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Renounce that drudgery,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Call the Muses home.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Seek&amp;nbsp; those images&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;That constitute the wild,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;The lion and the virgin,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;The harlot and the child.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Find in middle air,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;An eagle on the wing,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Recognise the five&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;That make the Muses sing&lt;/strong&gt;.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apoesiadeyeats.blogspot.com/feeds/7768070795127402839/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://apoesiadeyeats.blogspot.com/2009/09/aquelas-imagens.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3877874022709064813/posts/default/7768070795127402839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3877874022709064813/posts/default/7768070795127402839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apoesiadeyeats.blogspot.com/2009/09/aquelas-imagens.html' title='Aquelas Imagens'/><author><name>Tayná</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08988643529195868895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBiJWXQpt-i1YbL7mRwM6k0P-qJqG4N3rfNha0fF8d1dOVeYKA8rIPBCdJiRZ1zt2nTtUjXB_yAyCa_3LGzYxWzia6_AYJJj2t-VeormwpDEyMg_q118ATw1Zgp6UbGQ/s220/30725694_10204465974087414_3416957078822977536_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5KB_SpjII-DXUckbDYBcpQgpvYlJ3NfroShgskvmE9xS7gPvRNQOCkwyjlP4FiUf73GGWgaIlxlTWncQmocrm9cKhKjqOAKEa31d5H6DwdedIJPL2mUejTWM6gypX86Fh-Bv0diImZAwe/s72-c/renoir_meadow.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3877874022709064813.post-9000540734383411521</id><published>2009-09-26T08:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T05:27:40.773-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Moça Enlouquecida</title><content type='html'>Aquela moça enlouquecida,&lt;br /&gt;
Improvisando a sua música e poesia,&lt;br /&gt;
Dançando em meio à praia; a alma apartada de si mesma,&lt;br /&gt;
A subir e descer aonde a moça não sabia;&lt;br /&gt;
A esconder em meio à carga de um vapor&lt;br /&gt;
A rótula quebrada,&lt;br /&gt;
Eu proclamo essa moça algo de belo e alto, ou algo&lt;br /&gt;
Perdido heroicamente, achado heroicamente.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Pouco importa o acidente que ocorreu,&lt;br /&gt;
Ela envolvia-se em desesperada música,&lt;br /&gt;
Ela envolvia-se, envolvia-se,&lt;br /&gt;
E não ergueu seu triunfo,&lt;br /&gt;
Onde os fardos e cestos repousavam,&lt;br /&gt;
Som que fosse trivial e inteligível,&lt;br /&gt;
porém cantou: &quot;Mar esfomeado, ó mar famélico de mar&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: x-small;&quot;&gt;(Tradução de Péricles Eugênio da Silva Ramos)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlWMwZEm2I8jM1ym6KphQGkzOtd3BfLxDN6GPY86tVObiohX9Wq9Ncdsjzpw8JcFdzaNivKP1nwEi_aqW0xrJSFq8h_RonWRJ00Of8KS71yPhl5RGAO9oRWpjeQOetYvwrFBIxWUESeho0/s1600-h/The%2520Wave.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;cssfloat: left; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; iq=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlWMwZEm2I8jM1ym6KphQGkzOtd3BfLxDN6GPY86tVObiohX9Wq9Ncdsjzpw8JcFdzaNivKP1nwEi_aqW0xrJSFq8h_RonWRJ00Of8KS71yPhl5RGAO9oRWpjeQOetYvwrFBIxWUESeho0/s320/The%2520Wave.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Original em Inglês:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A Crazed Girl&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;That crazed girl improvising her music,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Her poetry, dancing upon the shore,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Her soul in division from itself&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Climbing, falling she knew not where,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Hiding amid the cargo of&amp;nbsp; asteamship&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Her knee-cap broken, that girl I declare&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;A beautiful lofty thing, or a thing&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Heroically lost, heroically found.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;No matter what disaster occurred&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;She stood in desperate music wound&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Wound, wound, and she made in her triumph&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Where the bales and the baskets lay&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;No common intelligible sound&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;But sang, &#39;O sea-starved hungry sea.&#39;&lt;/strong&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apoesiadeyeats.blogspot.com/feeds/9000540734383411521/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://apoesiadeyeats.blogspot.com/2009/09/moca-enlouquecida.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3877874022709064813/posts/default/9000540734383411521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3877874022709064813/posts/default/9000540734383411521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apoesiadeyeats.blogspot.com/2009/09/moca-enlouquecida.html' title='Moça Enlouquecida'/><author><name>Tayná</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08988643529195868895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBiJWXQpt-i1YbL7mRwM6k0P-qJqG4N3rfNha0fF8d1dOVeYKA8rIPBCdJiRZ1zt2nTtUjXB_yAyCa_3LGzYxWzia6_AYJJj2t-VeormwpDEyMg_q118ATw1Zgp6UbGQ/s220/30725694_10204465974087414_3416957078822977536_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlWMwZEm2I8jM1ym6KphQGkzOtd3BfLxDN6GPY86tVObiohX9Wq9Ncdsjzpw8JcFdzaNivKP1nwEi_aqW0xrJSFq8h_RonWRJ00Of8KS71yPhl5RGAO9oRWpjeQOetYvwrFBIxWUESeho0/s72-c/The%2520Wave.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3877874022709064813.post-7643832366730810212</id><published>2009-09-26T08:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T21:05:24.769-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Leda e o cisne</title><content type='html'>Súbito golpe: as grandes asas a bater&lt;br /&gt;
Sobre a virgem que oscila, a coxa acariciada&lt;br /&gt;
Por negros pés; a nuca, um bico a vem reter;&lt;br /&gt;
O peito inane sobre o peito, ei-la apresada.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dedos incertos de terror, como empurrar&lt;br /&gt;
Das coxas bambas o emplumado resplendor?&lt;br /&gt;
Pode o corpo, sob esse impulso de brancor,&lt;br /&gt;
O coração estranho não sentir pulsar?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Um tremor nos quadris engendra incontinenti&lt;br /&gt;
A muralha destruída, o teto, a torre a arder&lt;br /&gt;
E Agamêmnon, o morto.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Capturada assim,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
E pelo bruto sangue do ar sujeita, enfim&lt;br /&gt;
Ela assumiu-lhe a ciência junto com o poder,&lt;br /&gt;
Antes que a abandonasse o bico indiferente?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d5a6bd;&quot;&gt;*Zeus tomou a forma de cisne para apossar-se de Leda, mulher de Tíndaro, rei da Lacônia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d5a6bd;&quot;&gt;**Helena, então engendrada, seria a causa da ruína de Tróia; Clitemnestra, também filha de cisne, matou Agamêmnon, seu marido, ao voltar este de Tróia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #d5a6bd;&quot;&gt;O soneto foi escrito em 18 de setembro de 1923&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: x-small;&quot;&gt;(Tradução e notas de Péricles Eugênio da Silva Ramos)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiicdkXqtmVB7_4hfiXY48DhF-AU-x-hKVq5mQm3SkXeI7Q0zBqTOQIOdhctG0uOxwqio4xC1GZgXynHQLpwUQimJqe9uhK1oh4xG7XmltfbfR86qCKF8NrMLT9FtCcU7Pu_G2k-RlWifF-/s1600-h/LedaSwan-6.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; iq=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiicdkXqtmVB7_4hfiXY48DhF-AU-x-hKVq5mQm3SkXeI7Q0zBqTOQIOdhctG0uOxwqio4xC1GZgXynHQLpwUQimJqe9uhK1oh4xG7XmltfbfR86qCKF8NrMLT9FtCcU7Pu_G2k-RlWifF-/s320/LedaSwan-6.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;Original em Inglês:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Leda and the Swan&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;A sudden blow: the great wings beating still&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Above the staggering girl, her thighs caressed&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;By the dark webs, her nape caught in his bill,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;He holds her helpless breast upon his breast.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;How can those terrified vague fingers push&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;The feathered glory from her loosening thighs?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;And how can body, laid in that white rush,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;But feel the strange heart beating where it lies?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;A shudder in the loins engenders there&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;The broken wall, the burning roof and tower&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;And Agamemnon dead.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Being so caught up,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;So mastered by the brute blood of the air,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Did she put on his knowledge with&amp;nbsp;his power&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Before the indifferent beak could let her drop?&lt;/strong&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apoesiadeyeats.blogspot.com/feeds/7643832366730810212/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://apoesiadeyeats.blogspot.com/2009/09/leda-e-o-cisne.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3877874022709064813/posts/default/7643832366730810212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3877874022709064813/posts/default/7643832366730810212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apoesiadeyeats.blogspot.com/2009/09/leda-e-o-cisne.html' title='Leda e o cisne'/><author><name>Tayná</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08988643529195868895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBiJWXQpt-i1YbL7mRwM6k0P-qJqG4N3rfNha0fF8d1dOVeYKA8rIPBCdJiRZ1zt2nTtUjXB_yAyCa_3LGzYxWzia6_AYJJj2t-VeormwpDEyMg_q118ATw1Zgp6UbGQ/s220/30725694_10204465974087414_3416957078822977536_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiicdkXqtmVB7_4hfiXY48DhF-AU-x-hKVq5mQm3SkXeI7Q0zBqTOQIOdhctG0uOxwqio4xC1GZgXynHQLpwUQimJqe9uhK1oh4xG7XmltfbfR86qCKF8NrMLT9FtCcU7Pu_G2k-RlWifF-/s72-c/LedaSwan-6.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3877874022709064813.post-6952923226534334263</id><published>2009-09-26T05:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T06:21:05.760-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quando fores velha</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;Quando já fores velha, e grisalha, e com sono,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Pega este livro: junto ao fogo, a cabecear,&lt;br /&gt;
Lê com calma; e com os olhos de profundas sombras&lt;br /&gt;
Sonha, sonha com o teu antigo e suave olhar.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Muitos amaram-te horas de alegria e graça,&lt;br /&gt;
Com amor sincero ou falso amaram-te a beleza;&lt;br /&gt;
Só um, amando-te a alma peregrina em ti,&lt;br /&gt;
De teu rosto a mudar amou cada tristeza.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
E curvando-te junto à grade incandescente,&lt;br /&gt;
Murmura com amargura como o amor fugiu&lt;br /&gt;
E caminhou montanha acima, a subir sempre,&lt;br /&gt;
E o rosto em multidão de estrelas encobriu.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: x-small;&quot;&gt;(Tradução de Péricles Eugênio da Silva Ramos)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFQvvz9hDY4f-Mwy7rjo0o_-atHdhm0QJoLZ1ObRQbS9-SQL8NGhx3NPG6PzgJ2iW5r3YKORoo5vbhmE1_KXGTKbLzR66LNfUSDzdiZO_ZMI_B86miTvSHYvR-rfueoCJFxxyqh1TsM5AQ/s1600-h/32203-waterhouse_boreas_small1.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; iq=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFQvvz9hDY4f-Mwy7rjo0o_-atHdhm0QJoLZ1ObRQbS9-SQL8NGhx3NPG6PzgJ2iW5r3YKORoo5vbhmE1_KXGTKbLzR66LNfUSDzdiZO_ZMI_B86miTvSHYvR-rfueoCJFxxyqh1TsM5AQ/s320/32203-waterhouse_boreas_small1.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;Original em Inglês:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
When you are old&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,&lt;br /&gt;
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,&lt;br /&gt;
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look&lt;br /&gt;
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,&lt;br /&gt;
And loved your beauty with love false or true,&lt;br /&gt;
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,&lt;br /&gt;
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,&lt;br /&gt;
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled&lt;br /&gt;
And paced upon the mountains overhead&lt;br /&gt;
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apoesiadeyeats.blogspot.com/feeds/6952923226534334263/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://apoesiadeyeats.blogspot.com/2009/09/quando-fores-velha.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3877874022709064813/posts/default/6952923226534334263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3877874022709064813/posts/default/6952923226534334263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apoesiadeyeats.blogspot.com/2009/09/quando-fores-velha.html' title='Quando fores velha'/><author><name>Tayná</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08988643529195868895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBiJWXQpt-i1YbL7mRwM6k0P-qJqG4N3rfNha0fF8d1dOVeYKA8rIPBCdJiRZ1zt2nTtUjXB_yAyCa_3LGzYxWzia6_AYJJj2t-VeormwpDEyMg_q118ATw1Zgp6UbGQ/s220/30725694_10204465974087414_3416957078822977536_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFQvvz9hDY4f-Mwy7rjo0o_-atHdhm0QJoLZ1ObRQbS9-SQL8NGhx3NPG6PzgJ2iW5r3YKORoo5vbhmE1_KXGTKbLzR66LNfUSDzdiZO_ZMI_B86miTvSHYvR-rfueoCJFxxyqh1TsM5AQ/s72-c/32203-waterhouse_boreas_small1.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3877874022709064813.post-2298734654281687748</id><published>2009-09-25T06:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T07:30:16.989-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aedh deseja os tecidos dos céus</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;Fossem meus os tecidos bordados dos céus,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;Ornamentados com luz dourada e prateada,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;Os azuis e negros e pálidos tecidos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;Da noite, da luz e da meia-luz,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;Os estenderia sob os teus pés.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;Mas eu, sendo pobre, tenho apenas os meus sonhos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;Eu estendi meus sonhos sob os teus pés&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;Caminha suavemente, pois caminhas sobre meus sonhos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRn5JGSujxvbdzzj0X5S2yhSI7Zzsz4ZQcVJ0PCRJO1GNDJjxJV2qKioMiaaQuOswF-emG1fDVOO9oVD9XVfbygLZTkeZkAZ4Uv10vwIkBzgP1uvaUyL8zWfAuK6kmQtJj4eXHYizoertq/s1600-h/waterhouse-20.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; iq=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRn5JGSujxvbdzzj0X5S2yhSI7Zzsz4ZQcVJ0PCRJO1GNDJjxJV2qKioMiaaQuOswF-emG1fDVOO9oVD9XVfbygLZTkeZkAZ4Uv10vwIkBzgP1uvaUyL8zWfAuK6kmQtJj4eXHYizoertq/s320/waterhouse-20.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: lime;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;Original em Inglês:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: black;&quot;&gt;Aedh wishes for the cloths of heaven&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: black; color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths, &lt;br /&gt;
Enwrought with golden and silver light, &lt;br /&gt;
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths &lt;br /&gt;
Of night and light and the half light, &lt;br /&gt;
I would spread the cloths under your feet: &lt;br /&gt;
But I, being poor, have only my dreams; &lt;br /&gt;
I have spread my dreams under your feet; &lt;br /&gt;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apoesiadeyeats.blogspot.com/feeds/2298734654281687748/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://apoesiadeyeats.blogspot.com/2009/09/aedh-deseja-os-tecidos-dos-ceus.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3877874022709064813/posts/default/2298734654281687748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3877874022709064813/posts/default/2298734654281687748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apoesiadeyeats.blogspot.com/2009/09/aedh-deseja-os-tecidos-dos-ceus.html' title='Aedh deseja os tecidos dos céus'/><author><name>Tayná</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08988643529195868895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBiJWXQpt-i1YbL7mRwM6k0P-qJqG4N3rfNha0fF8d1dOVeYKA8rIPBCdJiRZ1zt2nTtUjXB_yAyCa_3LGzYxWzia6_AYJJj2t-VeormwpDEyMg_q118ATw1Zgp6UbGQ/s220/30725694_10204465974087414_3416957078822977536_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRn5JGSujxvbdzzj0X5S2yhSI7Zzsz4ZQcVJ0PCRJO1GNDJjxJV2qKioMiaaQuOswF-emG1fDVOO9oVD9XVfbygLZTkeZkAZ4Uv10vwIkBzgP1uvaUyL8zWfAuK6kmQtJj4eXHYizoertq/s72-c/waterhouse-20.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3877874022709064813.post-9090532714996324325</id><published>2009-09-25T05:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T08:19:02.033-07:00</updated><title type='text'>E daí?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;Na escola achava, cada amigo mais chegado,&lt;br /&gt;
que ele viria a ser um homem celebrado;&lt;br /&gt;
pensando o mesmo, ele viveu com esse humor,&lt;br /&gt;
fartando os seus vinte anos de labor;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&quot;E daí?&quot; &quot;E daí?&quot; - cantou o fantasma de Platão.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Tudo o que ele escreveu, tudo foi lido;&lt;br /&gt;
Depois de certos anos tinha já obtido&lt;br /&gt;
dinheiro suficiente para sua precisão,&lt;br /&gt;
e amigos que deveras foram seus amigos;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&quot;E daí?&quot; &quot;E daí?&quot; - cantou o fantasma de Platão.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;Seus sonhos mais felizes realizaram-se:&lt;br /&gt;
uma velha casinha; esposa, filha; um filho ele houve,&lt;br /&gt;
e em seu quintal cresciam ameixeira e couve;&lt;br /&gt;
poetas e intelectuais juntavam-se-lhe à mão;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&quot;E daí?&quot; &quot;E daí?&quot; - cantou o fantasma de Platão.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;A obra está feita&quot;, pensou ele, envelhecido,&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;segundo o que em menino dei por decidido&lt;br /&gt;
que os tolos raivem, eu não me desviei em nada,&lt;br /&gt;
alguma coisa eu trouxe à perfeição&quot;;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&quot;E daí?&quot; - cantou mais alto a sombra de Platão.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: x-small;&quot;&gt;(Tradução de Péricles Eugênio da Silva Ramos)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcuNx-9avtZeYGffOZ-36rNd7PAjGtmvml9qj8ASj2Xl7-yvpZ2Kd30f1jBPIXNIWCD40XQL4WbYbIh0xIxgT5WrlvUyrUQ_ywqSEge3NpegaaANY6iLfmSrUVj_tpHyydQrYjn1xqL7_X/s1600-h/yeats1.gif&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; iq=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcuNx-9avtZeYGffOZ-36rNd7PAjGtmvml9qj8ASj2Xl7-yvpZ2Kd30f1jBPIXNIWCD40XQL4WbYbIh0xIxgT5WrlvUyrUQ_ywqSEge3NpegaaANY6iLfmSrUVj_tpHyydQrYjn1xqL7_X/s320/yeats1.gif&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: x-small;&quot;&gt;Yeats&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Original em Inglês:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What then? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
His chosen comrades thought at school&lt;br /&gt;
He must grow a famous man;&lt;br /&gt;
He thought the same and lived by rule,&lt;br /&gt;
All his twenties crammed with toil;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;&#39;What then?&#39; sang Plato&#39;s ghost, &#39;what then&#39;?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Everything he wrote was read,&lt;br /&gt;
After certain years he won&lt;br /&gt;
Sufficient money for his need,&lt;br /&gt;
Friends that have been friends indeed;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;&#39;What then?&#39; sang Plato&#39;s ghost, &#39;what then?&#39;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
All his happier dreams came true -&lt;br /&gt;
A small old house, wife, daughter, son,&lt;br /&gt;
Ground where plum and cabbage grew,&lt;br /&gt;
Poets and Wits about him drew;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;&#39;What then?&#39; sang Plato&#39;s ghost, &#39;what then?&#39;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&#39;The work is done&#39;, grown old he thought,&lt;br /&gt;
&#39;According to my boyish plan;&lt;br /&gt;
Let the fools rage, I swerved in nought,&lt;br /&gt;
Something to perfection brought;&#39;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;But louder sang that ghost &#39;What then?&#39;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apoesiadeyeats.blogspot.com/feeds/9090532714996324325/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://apoesiadeyeats.blogspot.com/2009/09/e-dai.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3877874022709064813/posts/default/9090532714996324325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3877874022709064813/posts/default/9090532714996324325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apoesiadeyeats.blogspot.com/2009/09/e-dai.html' title='E daí?'/><author><name>Tayná</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08988643529195868895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBiJWXQpt-i1YbL7mRwM6k0P-qJqG4N3rfNha0fF8d1dOVeYKA8rIPBCdJiRZ1zt2nTtUjXB_yAyCa_3LGzYxWzia6_AYJJj2t-VeormwpDEyMg_q118ATw1Zgp6UbGQ/s220/30725694_10204465974087414_3416957078822977536_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcuNx-9avtZeYGffOZ-36rNd7PAjGtmvml9qj8ASj2Xl7-yvpZ2Kd30f1jBPIXNIWCD40XQL4WbYbIh0xIxgT5WrlvUyrUQ_ywqSEge3NpegaaANY6iLfmSrUVj_tpHyydQrYjn1xqL7_X/s72-c/yeats1.gif" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3877874022709064813.post-8351225230332461077</id><published>2009-09-25T05:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T07:38:04.046-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Os Velhos Admirando-se na Água</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;Ouvi os velhos, velhos, murmurando:&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Tudo se altera,&lt;br /&gt;
E um por um vamos passando.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
Tinham mãos como garras, e seus joelhos&lt;br /&gt;
Eram torcidos como os espinheiros velhos&lt;br /&gt;
Junto da água.&lt;br /&gt;
Ouvi os velhos, velhos, murmurando:&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Tudo o que é belo foge, deslizando&lt;br /&gt;
como as águas&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: x-small;&quot;&gt;(Tradução de Péricles Eugênio da Silva Ramos)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHwr13NkfeE4mDWlJhyphenhyphenevoatNJAO8CBL_BNa8J7ql5Im7SpVm4Zs002TPBGdAk5WUsIHmwJFmn7Y5o9gGCQY2iI9bD_znNRxztpUoB8D24PaRYNHdUXlGiiE8-BA9jQ0ma8EugcwfVSkZ3/s1600-h/2009%252009%2520yeats.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;cssfloat: left; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; iq=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHwr13NkfeE4mDWlJhyphenhyphenevoatNJAO8CBL_BNa8J7ql5Im7SpVm4Zs002TPBGdAk5WUsIHmwJFmn7Y5o9gGCQY2iI9bD_znNRxztpUoB8D24PaRYNHdUXlGiiE8-BA9jQ0ma8EugcwfVSkZ3/s320/2009%252009%2520yeats.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Original em Inglês:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #cccccc;&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Old Men admiring Themselves in the Water &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I heard the old, old men say,&lt;br /&gt;
&#39;Everything alters,&lt;br /&gt;
And one by one we drop away.&#39;&lt;br /&gt;
Were twisted like the old thorn-trees&lt;br /&gt;
By the waters.&lt;br /&gt;
I heard the old, old men say,&lt;br /&gt;
&#39;All that&#39;s beautiful drifts away&lt;br /&gt;
Like the waters.&#39;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://apoesiadeyeats.blogspot.com/feeds/8351225230332461077/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://apoesiadeyeats.blogspot.com/2009/09/o-escolhido-da-fada.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3877874022709064813/posts/default/8351225230332461077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3877874022709064813/posts/default/8351225230332461077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://apoesiadeyeats.blogspot.com/2009/09/o-escolhido-da-fada.html' title='Os Velhos Admirando-se na Água'/><author><name>Tayná</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08988643529195868895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBiJWXQpt-i1YbL7mRwM6k0P-qJqG4N3rfNha0fF8d1dOVeYKA8rIPBCdJiRZ1zt2nTtUjXB_yAyCa_3LGzYxWzia6_AYJJj2t-VeormwpDEyMg_q118ATw1Zgp6UbGQ/s220/30725694_10204465974087414_3416957078822977536_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHwr13NkfeE4mDWlJhyphenhyphenevoatNJAO8CBL_BNa8J7ql5Im7SpVm4Zs002TPBGdAk5WUsIHmwJFmn7Y5o9gGCQY2iI9bD_znNRxztpUoB8D24PaRYNHdUXlGiiE8-BA9jQ0ma8EugcwfVSkZ3/s72-c/2009%252009%2520yeats.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>