I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
What ever you see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful -
The eye of a little god, four-cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.

Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrble fish.

Sylvia Plath

3 comentários:

su disse...

Simplesmente FABULOSO, não é verdade?
Porque é que será que estes génios da literatura terão sempre um final semelhante?

su disse...

Madrinha...tens desafio lá na Teia! ;)

Porcelain Doll disse...

How would life be if we had no preconceptions? How would it be if we swalloed imediatly, just as it is... probably much easier than it is... but would we accomplish what we came to do here?

And why does being truthful is almost like being cruel? What is there about true that hurts so much?