A arte da perda...

Ontem encontrei este poema por acaso, e falou muito alto para mim, nesta fase em que me preparo para perder tantas pequeninas coisas que fazem o meu mundo. 

Mas acho que é o género de Poema que fala alto para todos nós, porque todos perdemos coisas muito importantes ao longo da vida. E não é nem pode ser um desastre, pode parecer, mas há sempre luz para lá da perda, seja ela qual for...

One Art

BY ELIZABETH BISHOP

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;

so many things seem filled with the intent

to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster

of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.

The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:

places, and names, and where it was you meant

to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or

next-to-last, of three loved houses went.

The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,

some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.

I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture

I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident

the art of losing’s not too hard to master

though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.