QUICK AND BITTER
The end was quick and bitter.
Slow and sweet was the time between us,
Slow and sweet were the nights
When my hands did not touch one another in despair
But with the love of your body
Which came between them.
And when I entered into you
It seemed then that great happiness
Could be measured with the precision
Of sharp pain. Quick and bitter.
Slow and sweet were the nights.
Now is as bitter and grinding as sand —
‘We shall be sensible’ and similar curses.
And as we stray further from love
We multiply the words,
Words and sentences long and orderly.
Had we remained together
We could have become a silence.
                Yehuda Amichai        (tradução de Assia Gutman)
 

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