Sylvia Plath.

Sylvia Plath nos incomoda. Escancara a tristeza que lhe consome e nos joga na cara; sem dó nem piedade.

É impossível não sensibilizar-se com suas palavras de sangue. É impossível não notar seu mundo monocromático, escuro, pesado e depressivo...

Mas, em contrapartida, suas palavras de ordem onírica nos levam a um mundo feliz, com movimento, com vida - e com sede de vida.

Pena(?) que não foi nesse em que ela viveu.

PAPOULAS DE JULHO – Sylvia Plath

Ó papoulinhas, pequenas flamas do inferno,
Então não fazem mal?
Vocês vibram. É impossível tocá‐las.
Eu ponho as mãos entre as flamas. Nada me queima.
E me fatiga ficar a olhá‐las
Assim vibrantes, enrugadas e rubras, como a pele de uma boca.
Uma boca sangrando.
Pequenas franjas sangrentas!
Há vapores que não posso tocar.
Onde estão os narcóticos, as repugnantes cápsulas?
Se eu pudesse sangrar, ou dormir!
Se minha boca pudesse unir‐se a tal ferida!
Ou que seus licores filtrem‐se em mim, nessa cápsula de vidro,
Entorpecendo e apaziguando.
Mas sem cor. Sem cor alguma.

____
Uma música para Sylvia.

Grey Street
- Dave Matthews Band

Oh look at how she listens
She says nothing of what she thinks
She just goes stumbling through her memories
Staring out on to Grey Street

She thinks, “Hey,
How did I come to this?
I dream myself a thousand times around the world,
But I can’t get out of this place”

There’s an emptiness inside her
And she’d do anything to fill it in
But all the colors mix together - to grey
And it breaks her heart

How she wishes it was different
She prays to God most every night
And though she swears it doesn’t listen
There’s still a hope in her it might

She says, “I pray
But they fall on deaf ears,
Am I supposed to take it on myself?
To get out of this place”

There’s loneliness inside her
And she’d do anything to fill it in
And though it’s red blood bleeding from her now
It feels like cold blue ice in her heart
When all the colors mix together - to grey
And it breaks her heart

There’s a stranger speaks outside her door
Says take what you can from your dreams
Make them as real as anything
It’d take the work out of the courage

But she says, “Please
There’s a crazy man that’s creeping outside my door,
I live on the corner of Grey Street and the end of the world”

There’s an emptiness inside her
And she’d do anything to fill it in
And though it’s red blood bleeding from her now
It’s more like cold blue ice in her heart
She feels like kicking out all the windows
And setting fire to this life
She could change everything about her using colors bold and bright
But all the colors mix together - to grey
And it breaks her heart
It breaks her heart
To grey