Pela fresca manhã, leitura apropriada da Toccata Of Galuppi's de Robert Browning, muito extensa para colocar aqui. Fica um sabor, um flavour:


Oh Galuppi, Baldassaro, this is very sad to find!
I can hardly misconceive you; it would prove me deaf and blind;
But although I give you credit, 'tis with such a heavy mind!


Here you come with your old music, and here's all the good it brings.
What, they lived once thus at Venice, where the merchants were the kings,
Where Saint Mark's is, where the Doges used to wed the sea with rings?


Ay, because the sea's the street there; and 'tis arched by... what you call
... Shylock's bridge with houses on it, where they kept the carnival;
I was never out of England—it's as if I saw it all!


Como continua? Com uma pergunta retórica: “Did young people take their pleasure when the sea was warm in May?”. Depois há uma paráfrase de Catulo sobre a quantidade dos beijos necessários e termina no tom de Villon:


"As for Venice and its people, merely born to bloom and drop,
Here on earth they bore their fruitage, mirth and folly were the crop:
What of soul was left, I wonder, when the kissing had to stop?


"Dust and ashes!" So you creak it, and I want the heart to scold.
Dear dead women, with such hair, too—what's become of all the gold
Used to hang and brush their bosoms? I feel chilly and grown old.

Um pouco gloomy na ironia. "Co l'arte e co l'ingano se vive mezo ano; co l'ingano e co l'arte se vive staltra parte.", diz um provérbio veneto. Muitas línguas pela manhã. Tudo misturado, inglês, italiano, português.


© José Pacheco Pereira
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