High Windows


When I see a couple of kids
And guess he's fucking her and she's
Taking pills or wearing a diaphragm,
I know this is paradise

Everyone old has dreamed of all their lives -
Bonds and gestures pushed to one side
Like an outdated combine harvester,
And everyone young going down the long slide

To happiness, endlessly. I wonder if
Anyone looked at me, forty years back,
And thought, That'll be the life;
No God any more, or sweating in the dark

About hell and that, or having to hide
What you think of the priest. He
And his lot will all go down the long slide
Like free bloody birds. And immediately

Rather than words comes the thought of high windows:
The sun-comprehending glass,
And beyond it, the deep blue air, that shows
Nothing, and is nowhere, and is endless.


Philip Larkin
High Windows 

Forget What Did

Stopping the diary
Was a stun to memory,
Was a blank starting,

One no longer cicatrized
By such words, such actions
As bleakened waking.

I wanted them over,
Hurried to burial
And looked back on

Like the wars and winters
Missing behind the windows
Of an opaque childhood.

And the empty pages?
Should they ever be filled
Let it be with observed

Celestial recurrences,
The day the flowers come,
And when birds go.

Philip Larkin,
High Windows 

cuidar do passado.

Sonhou com ele, há meses que o deixara de fazer, não são coisas que se controlem mas sentia o seu coração tão cheio, que era como se aquela parte de si já não fizesse sentido. Como se coubesse, apenas, naquele cantinho que lhe tinha destinado... e nada mais do que isso. 

Mas esta noite sonhara com ele, talvez porque o tivesse deixado entrar nos seus dias, não o era propositado, mais como quando a água gela a meio do duche. Com a mesma surpresa. 

Quis saber como estaria. Permitiu-se pensar nele o tempo suficiente para o imaginar feliz, tão feliz como ela estava agora, e isso, trouxe-lhe paz ao coração.