Fui dormir às 5 da manhã porque estava sozinha e tenho medo da casa vazia. Com minha menina fora, fico desabitada.
Acordei cedo e despertei para a tragédia dos jovens mortos no incêndio na boate em Santa Maria.
Não há reparação possível para a morte de um filho. No olhar de todas as pessoas que encontro, vejo o mesmo entendimento e o mesmo medo. A dor da perda insuprível, pode ser expressada?
Meu desespero é mudo. Passei o dia no silêncio do luto.
Minha filha voltou para casa ao entardecer. Para os pais de mais de 200 jovens, é a noite eterna.
Funeral Blues
W H Auden
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
