Master, how serene
Are all the hours
We waste
If, as we waste them,
We place them in a vase
Like flowers.
There are no sorrows
In our lives
Nor joys either.
Let us learn, then,
Innocent sages,
Not to live life
But to pass through it,
Tranquil, serene,
Taking children
As our teachers,
Eyes full
Of Nature . . .
Beside a river,
Beside a road,
Wherever we are,
Living life
With the same
Light ease.
Time passes,
And tells us nothing.
We grow old.
Let us learn, almost
Mischievously,
To feel ourselves leaving.
There is no point
In doing anything.
There is no resisting
The monstrous god
Who devours
His own children.
Let us gather flowers.
Let us bathe our hands
In the calm rivers,
And from them
Learn their calm.
Sunflowers eternally
Staring at the sun,
We will leave life
Tranquilly, not even
Regretting
Having lived.
(Translated, from the Portuguese, by Margaret Jull Costa and Patricio Ferrari.)
This is drawn from “The Complete Works of Ricardo Reis.”
