10 October 2010

ANO DO TIGRE (XXII)

The Great Cat - Poems About Cats



Le Chat (Charles Baudelaire)

Viens, mon beau chat, sur mon coeur amoureux;
Retiens les griffes de ta patte,
Et laisse-moi plonger dans tes beaux yeux,
Mêlés de métal et d'agate.

Lorsque mes doigts caressent à loisir
Ta tête et ton dos élastique,
Et que ma main s'enivre du plaisir
De palper ton corps électrique,

Je vois ma femme en esprit. Son regard,
Comme le tien, aimable bête
Profond et froid, coupe et fend comme un dard,

Et, des pieds jusqu'à la tête,
Un air subtil, un dangereux parfum
Nagent autour de son corps brun.


(2010)

3 comments:

boizinho said...

as duas primeiras estrofes do poema descrevem, ao pormenor, boa parte da minha noite de hoje.

Anonymous said...

não é gato, mas age como um:

"The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep."
T.S. Eliot, Prufrock

Jorge Andrade

João Lisboa said...

:)