JEWELS OF INDOOR GLASS

The broken glass on the stairs
shines in the electric light.
Whoever dropped the beer
was anti-social or too drunk
to sweep it up himself.
So the beauty goes, ground
under heel but shining, it
and the deposit lost. But
by the janitor’s broom
it is still sharp enough
for dog’s feet, babies’ hands,
and eyes pierced by its lights,
that he should curse the fool
and I should try to praise
the pieces of harmony.

ALAN DUGAN, USA, in “Poems”, 1967






JÓIAS DE VIDRO NO INTERIOR

Os vidros partidos nas escadas
brilham à luz eléctrica.
O que deixou cair a cerveja
era anti-social ou bêbado demais
para ser ele a limpá-la.
Assim a beleza vai, chão
sob o tacão mas a brilhar, ela
e o depósito perdido. Mas
junto à vassoura do porteiro
ainda é cortante
para patas de cães, mãos de bebés
e olhos trespassados pelas suas luzes,
o bastante para que ele maldiga o louco
e eu tente exaltar
os pedaços da harmonia.