O Pescador

The waters hissed, the waters rose,
The Fisherman alongside,
Quietly gazing at his rod,
Cool at heart, inside.
And as he listens, as he sits,
The waters split and rise:
Out of the flowing waters hiss
A mermaid meets his eyes.

She sang to him, she spoke to him:
‘Why do you lure my children
With human art and cunning,
Up to their warm extinction?
Ah, if you knew how snugly
Little fish live in the deep,
You yourself would join me,
You’d be happy indeed.

Doesn’t the sweet Sun bathe
And the Moon, here, in the sea?
Show with the waves they breathe
Faces doubly bright to see?
Doesn’t this heavenly deep,
Lure you, this rain-clear blue?
Doesn’t your own gaze leap
Drawn down to eternal dew?’

The water hissed, the water rose
Wetting his naked feet:
His heart so full of yearning, oh,
As if him his Love did greet.
She spoke to him, she sang to him:
All was soon done, and o’er:
She half pulling, he half sinking,
And he was seen nevermore.

W. Goethe (tradução inglesa)


Fotografia: João Martins Pereira


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