"The Cloud", de Percy Byshhe Shelley
Autor: Juliano Riechelmann | Publicado: 2015-07-31T23:07:00-03:00

I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;From the seas and the streams;
I bear light shade for the leaves when laid
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;In their noonday dreams.
From my wings are shaken the dews that waken
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;The sweet buds every one,
When rocked to rest on their mother's breast,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;As she dances about the sun.
I wield the flail of the lashing hail,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;And whiten the green plains under,
And then again I dissolve it in rain,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;And laugh as I pass in thunder.

&nbsp; &nbsp;I sift the snow on the mountains below,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;And their great pines groan aghast;
And all the night 'tis my pillow white,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;While I sleep in the arms of the blast.
Sublime on the towers of my skiey bowers,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Lightning my pilot sits;
In a cavern under is fettered the thunder,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;It struggles and howls at fits;
Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;This pilot is guiding me,
Lured by the love of the genii that move
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;In the depths of the purple sea;
Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Over the lakes and the plains,
Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;The Spirit he loves remains;
And I all the while bask in Heaven's blue smile,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Whilst he is dissolving in rains.

&nbsp; &nbsp;The sanguine Sunrise, with his meteor eyes,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;And his burning plumes outspread,
Leaps on the back of my sailing rack,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;When the morning star shines dead;
As on the jag of a mountain crag,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Which an earthquake rocks and swings,
An eagle alit one moment may sit
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;In the light of its golden wings.
And when Sunset may breathe, from the lit sea beneath,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Its ardours of rest and of love,
And the crimson pall of eve may fall
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;From the depth of Heaven above,
With wings folded I rest, on mine aëry nest,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;As still as a brooding dove.

&nbsp; &nbsp;That orbèd maiden with white fire laden,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Whom mortals call the Moon,
Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;By the midnight breezes strewn;
And wherever the beat of her unseen feet,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Which only the angels hear,
May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;The stars peep behind her and peer;
And I laugh to see them whirl and flee,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Like a swarm of golden bees,
When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Till calm the rivers, lakes, and seas,
Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Are each paved with the moon and these.

&nbsp; &nbsp;I bind the Sun's throne with a burning zone,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;And the Moon's with a girdle of pearl;
The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;When the whirlwinds my banner unfurl.
From cape to cape, with a bridge-like shape,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Over a torrent sea,
Sunbeam-proof, I hang like a roof,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;The mountains its columns be.
The triumphal arch through which I march
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;With hurricane, fire, and snow,
When the Powers of the air are chained to my chair,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Is the million-coloured bow;
The sphere-fire above its soft colours wove,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;While the moist Earth was laughing below.

&nbsp; &nbsp;I am the daughter of Earth and Water,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;And the nursling of the Sky;
I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores;
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;I change, but I cannot die.
For after the rain when with never a stain
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;The pavilion of Heaven is bare,
And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Build up the blue dome of air,
I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;And out of the caverns of rain,
Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb,
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;I arise and unbuild it again.