sexta-feira, 18 de abril de 2008

O CAPTAIN my Captain!

O CAPTAIN my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:

But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

Walt Whitman
Dedicado a Abraham Lincoln.

2 comentários:

a m disse...


A M disse...

Oh! capitão, meu capitão: nossa viagem de medos terminou
Venceu tormentas o barco e a glória perseguida se ganhou
Está próximo o porto, ouço os sinos, o povo se apraz
Seguindo a firme quilha do barco, forte e audaz

Mas ai coração! Coração, coração...
No tombadilho onde jaz meu capitão
Pinta de vermelho sangue a sorte
E ele, caído e frio, como a morte.


(recomposição não literal)