A CHEGADA DA CAIXA DE ABELHASEncomendei esta caixa de madeiraClara, exata, quase um fardo para carregar.Eu diria que e um ataude de um anao ou De um bebe quadradoNao fosse o barulho ensurdecedor que dela escapa.Esta trancada, e perigosa.Tenho de passar a noite com ela eNao consigo me afastar.Nao tem janelas, nao posso ver o que ha dentro.Apenas uma pequena grade e nenhuma saida.Espio pela grade.Esta escuro, escuro.Enxame de maos africanas Minimas, encolhidas para exportacao,Negro em negro, escalando com furia.Como deixa-las sair?E o barulho que mais me apavora,As silabas ininteligiveis.Sao como uma turba romana,Pequenas, insignificantes como individuos, mas meu deus, juntas!Escuto esse latim furioso.Nao sou um Cesar.Simplesmente encomendei uma caixa de maniacos.Podem ser devolvidos.Podem morrer, nao preciso alimenta-los, sou a dona.Me pergunto se tem fome.Me pergunto se me esqueceriamSe eu abrisse as trancas e me afastasse e virasse arvore.Ha laburnos, colunatas louras, Anaguas de cerejas.Poderiam imediatamente ignorar-me.No meu vestido lunar e veu funerarioNao sou uma fonte de mel.Por que entao recorrer a mim?Amanha serei Deus, o generoso vou liberta-los.A caixa e apenas temporaria.[Sylvia Plath - a chegada da caixa de abelhas]pesia(traducao de Ana Candida Perez e Ana Cristina Cesar ) In the backseat of my heartMy love tells me I'm a messI couldn't get the car to startLeft my keys somewhere in the messIt comes and goesIn plateausOne month later, I'm a fucking proMy parents would be proudOh, fall asleep on the floorForget what happened in the morningThere are notes in your handwritingBut you can make it upWe are not a proud raceIt's not a race at allWe're just trying, I'm only tryingTo get homeDrunk drivers, drunk driversThis is not a good thingI don't mean to rationalizeOr try and explain it awayIt's not okayDrunk drivers, drunk driversIt's too late to articulate itThat empty feelingYou share the same fate as the people you hateYou built yourself up against other's feelingsAnd it left you feeling emptyAs a car coasting downhillI have become such a negative personIt was all just an actIt was all so easily stripped awayBut if we learn how to live thisMaybe we can learn how to start againAnd I could shout: Who's never done wrong?Who hasn't taken that first step?We are not a proud raceIt's not a race at allWe're just trying, I'm only tryingTo get homeDrunk drivers, drunk driversPut it out of your mindAnd perish the thoughtThere's no comfort in responsibilityDrunk drivers, drunk driversIt doesn't have to be like thisIt doesn't have to be like thisIt doesn't have to be like thisKiller whales, killer whalesIt doesn't have to be like thisIt doesn't have to be like thisIt doesn't have to be like thisKiller whales, killer whalesHere's that voice in your headGive in you should againBut you know he loves youAnd he doesn't mean to cause you painPlease listen to himIt's not too lateTurn off the engine, get out of the carAnd start to walkDrunk drivers, drunk driversDrunk drivers, drunk driversIt doesn't have to be like thisIt doesn't have to be like thisIt doesn't have to be like thisKiller whales, killer whalesIt doesn't have to be like thisIt doesn't have to