I AM WAITING

  I am waiting for my case to come up

                  and I am waiting

               for a rebirth of wonder

            and I am waiting for someone

             to really discover America

                     and wail

                  and I am waiting

                  for the discovery

         of a new symbolic western frontier

                  and I am waiting

               for the American Eagle

              to really spread its wings

            and straighten up and fly right

                  and I am waiting

               for the Age of Anxiety

                   to drop dead

                  and I am waiting

              for the war to be fought

           which will make the world safe

                    for anarchy

                  and I am waiting

             for the final withering away

                 of all governments

            and I am perpetually awaiting

                a rebirth of wonder

         I am waiting for the Second Coming

                  and I am waiting

                for a religious revival

          to sweep thru the state of Arizona

                  and I am waiting

         for the Grapes of Wrath to be stored

                  and I am waiting

                 for them to prove

             that God is really American

             and I am seriously waiting

         for Billy Graham and Elvis Presley

             to exchange roles seriously

                 and I am waiting

              to see God on television

              piped onto church altars

                if only they can find

                  the right channel

                   to tune in on

                 and I am waiting

        for the Last Supper to be served again

            with a strange new appetizer

            and I am perpetually awaiting

                a rebirth of wonder

       I am waiting for my number to be called

                  and I am waiting

                 for the living end

                  and I am waiting

               for dad to come home

                  his pockets full

             of irradiated silver dollars

                  and I am waiting

             for the atomic tests to end

              and I am waiting happily

            for things to get much worse

                before they improve

                  and I am waiting

         for the Salvation Army to take over

                  and I am waiting

                for the human crowd

           to wander off a cliff somewhere

            clutching its atomic umbrella

                  and I am waiting

                   for Ike to act

                  and I am waiting

             for the meek to be blessed

                and inherit the earth

                   without taxes

                  and I am waiting

               for forests and animals

            to reclaim the earth as theirs

                  and I am waiting

               for a way to be devised

              to destroy all nationalisms

               without killing anybody

                  and I am waiting

        for linnets and planets to fall like rain

       and I am waiting for lovers and weepers

              to lie down together again

             in a new rebirth of wonder

    I am waiting for the Great Divide to be crossed

             and I am anxiously waiting

     for the secret of eternal life to be discovered

          by an obscure general practitioner

       and save me forever from certain death

                  and I am waiting

                  for life to begin

                  and I am waiting

                for the storms of life,

                     to be over

                  and I am waiting

              to set sail for happiness

                  and I am waiting

           for a reconstructed Mayflower

                 to reach America

          with its picture story and tv rights

            sold in advance to the natives

                  and I am waiting

           for the lost music to sound again

                in the Lost Continent

             in a new rebirth of wonder

              I am waiting for the day

             that maketh all things clear

                  and I am waiting

                 for Ole Man River

              to just stop rolling along

               past the country club

                  and I am waiting

                for the deepest South

           to just stop Reconstructing itself

                  in its own image

                  and I am waiting

           for a sweet desegregated chariot

                   to swing low

          and carry me back to Ole Virginie

                  and I am waiting

             for Ole Virginie to discover

             just why Darkies are born

                  and I am waiting

                 for God to lookout

              from Lookout Mountain

       and see the Ode to the Confederate Dead

                   as a real farce

            and I am awaiting retribution

                for what America did

                  to Tom Sawyer

            and I am perpetually awaiting

                a rebirth of wonder

       I am waiting for Tom Swift to grow up

                  and I am waiting

               for the American Boy

             to take off Beauty's clothes

               and get on top of her

                  and I am waiting

              for Alice in Wonderland

                 to retransmit to me

            her total dream of innocence

                  and I am waiting

             for Childe Roland to come

              to the final darkest tower

                  and I am waiting

                   for Aphrodite

                 to grow live arms

          at a final disarmament conference

             in a new rebirth of wonder

                    I am waiting

               to get some intimations

                   of immortality

         by recollecting my early childhood

                  and I am waiting

        for the green mornings to come again

     youth's dumb green fields come back again

                  and I am waiting

        for some strains of unpremeditated art

              to shake my typewriter

              and I am waiting to write

              the great indelible poem

                  and I am waiting

           for the last long careless rapture

            and I am perpetually waiting

       for the fleeing lovers on the Grecian Urn

            to catch each other up at last

                   and embrace

                 and I am awaiting

               perpetually and forever

              a renaissance of wonder

                  ESTOU À ESPERA

Estou à espera que seja a vez do meu caso

e estou à espera

de um renascimento do maravilhoso

e estou à espera de alguém

que descubra realmente a América

e se lamente

e estou à espera

da descoberta

de uma nova fronteira simbólica no Oeste

e estou à espera

que a Águia Americana

estenda realmente suas asas

e se erga e voe pelo bom caminho

e estou à espera

que a Era da Ansiedade

caia morta

e estou à espera

duma guerra que virá

preparando o mundo

para a anarquia

e estou à espera

da decadência definitiva

de todos os governos

e estou perpetuamente à espera

de um renascimento do maravilhoso

Estou à espera da Segunda Vinda

e estou à espera

dum renascimento religioso

que se alastre pelo estado do Arizona

e estou à espera

que as Vinha da Ira sejam armazenadas

e estou à espera

que elas comprovem

que Deus realmente é Americano

e estou à espera s sem me rir

que Billy Graham e Elvis Presley

troquem seus papéis a sério

e estou à espera

de ver Deus na televisão

empoleirado nos altares das igrejas

caso eles consigam

apanhar o bom canal

para sintonizar Deus

e estou à espera

que a Última Ceia seja servida novamente

com um novo estranho aperitivo

e estou perpetuamente à espera

de um renascimento do maravilhoso

Estou à espera que chamem o meu número

e estou à espera

do final vivo

e estou à espera

que meu velho volte para casa

com bolsos cheios

de dólares de prata radioactiva

e estou à espera

que acabem as experiências atómicas

e estou à espera alegremente

que as coisas piorem

para depois melhorarem

e estou à espera

que o Exército da Salvação

tome conta da situação

e estou à espera

que a multidão humana

algures caia duma falésia abaixo

agarrada a seu guarda-chuva atómico

e estou à espera

que o Ike actue

e estou à espera

que os humildes sejam abençoados

e herdem a terra

sem pagar impostos

e estou à espera

que as florestas e os animais

reclamem a terra como sua

e estou à espera

que se descubra uma maneira

de acabar com todos os nacionalismos

sem matar ninguém

e estou à espera

que os piriquitos e os planetas caiam como chuva

e estou à espera que os amantes e as choradeiras

se deitem juntos novamente

num novo renascimento do maravilhoso

Estou à espera

que a Grande Barreira seja atravessada

e estou ansiosamente à espera

que o segredo da vida eterna

seja descoberto

por um obscuro clínico geral

e me salve para sempre da morte certa

e estou à espera

que a vida comece

e estou à espera

que os temporais da vida passem

e estou à espera

de soltar velas e zarpar para a felicidade

e estou à espera

que iam Mayflower reconstruído

chegue a América

com sua história aos quadradinhos

e direitos da TV vendidos desde já aos nativos

e estou à espera

que a melodia perdida ressoe novamente

no Continente perdido

num novo renascimento do maravilhoso

Estou à espera do dia

em que tudo se esclareça e

estou à espera

que o Old Man River

deixe de correr

pelos arredores do Country Club

e estou à espera

que o extremo sul

deixe de se reconstruir

à sua própria imagem

e estou à espera

que um carro des-segregado

me leve de volta a antiga Virgínia

e estou à espera

que a antiga Virgínia descubra

porque é que nascem os negros

e estou à espera que Deus espreite

da Montanha das Espreitadelas

e se aperceba que a Ode aos Confederados Mortos

na verdade é uma farsa

e estou à espera do castigo

pelo que a América fez ao Tom Sawyer

e estou perpetuamente à espera

de um renascimento do maravilhoso

Estou à espera que o Tom Swift cresça

e estou à espera

que o rapaz Americano

arranque as roupas à Beleza

e se ponha em cima dela

e estou à espera

que Alice no País das Maravilhas

me retransmita

seu integral sonho de inocência

e estou à espera

que o Cavaleiro Rolando atinja

a última e mais sombria torre

e estou à espera

que Afrodite

germine armas vivas

numa conferência final de desarmamento

num novo renascimento do maravilhoso

Estou à espera

do sentir algum prenúncio

da imortalidade

relembrando minha infância

e estou à espera

que voltem as manhãs de esperança

que voltem os campos verdes da juventude

e estou à espera

que acorde de arte espontânea

percorram minha máquina de escrever

e estou perpetuamente a espera

o grande e indelével poema

e estou à espera

pelo último longo êxtase desleixado

e estou perpetuamente a espera

que os fugidios amantes da Ânfora Grega

consigam finalmente agarrar-se

e enlaçar-se

e estou à espera

perpetuamente e para sempre

de um renascimento do maravilhoso

Autobiography

I am leading a quiet life

in Mike's Place every day watching the champs

of the Dante Billiard Parlor

and the French pinball addicts.

I am leading a quiet life

on lower East Broadway.

I am an American.

I was an American boy.

I read the American Boy Magazine

and became a boy scout in the suburbs.

I thought I was Tom Sawyer

catching crayfish in the Bronx River

and imagining the Mississippi.

I had a baseball mit

and an American Flyer bike.

I delivered the Woman's Home Companion

at five in the afternoon

or the Herald Trib

at five in the morning.

I still can hear the paper thump

on lost porches.

I had an unhappy childhood.

I saw Lindbergh land.

I looked homeward and saw no angel.

I got caught stealing pencils

from the Five and Ten Cent Store

the same month I made Eagle Scout.

I chopped trees for the CCC

and sat on them.

I landed in Normandy

in a rowboat that turned over.

I have seen the educated armies

on the beach at Dover.

I have seen Egyptian pilots in purple clouds

shopkeepers rolling up their blinds

at midday

potato salad and dandelions

at anarchist picnics.

I am reading 'Lorna Doone'

and a life of John Most

terror of the industrialist

a bomb on his desk at all times.

I have seen the garbagemen parade

in the Columbus Day Parade

behind the glib

farting trumpeters.

I have not been out to the Cloisters

in a long time nor to the Tuileries

but I still keep thinking of going.

I have seen the garbagemen parade

when it was snowing.

I have eaten hotdogs in ballparks.

I have heard the Gettysburg Address

and the Ginsberg Address.

I like it here

and I won't go back

where I came from.

I too have ridden boxcars boxcars boxcars.

I have travelled among unknown men.

I have been in Asia

with Noah in the Ark.

I was in India

when Rome was built.

I have been in the Manger

with an Ass.

I have seen the Eternal Distributor

from a White Hill

in South San Francisco and the

Laughing Woman at Loona Park

outside the Fun House

in a great rainstorm

still laughing.

I have heard the sound of revelry

by night.

I have wandered lonely as a crowd.

I am leading a quiet life

outside of Mike's Place every day

watching the world walk by

in its curious shoes.

I once started out

to walk around the world

but ended up in Brooklyn.

That Bridge was too much for me.

I have engaged in silence

exile and cunning.

I flew too near the sun

and my wax wings fell off

I am looking for my Old Man

whom I never knew.

I am looking for the Lost Leader

with whom I flew.

Young men should be explorers.

Home is where one starts from.

But Mother never told me

there'd be scenes like this.

Womb-weary

I rest

I have travelled.

I have seen goof city.

I have seen the mass mess.

I have heard Kid Ory cry.

I have heard a trombone preach.

I have heard Debussy

strained thru a sheet.

I have slept in a hundred islands

where books were trees.

I have heard the birds

that sound like bells.

I have worn grey flannel trousers

and walked upon the beach of hell.

I have dwelt in a hundred cities

where trees were books.

What subways what taxis what cafes!

What women with blind breasts

limbs lost among skyscrapers!

I have seen the statues of heroes

at carrefours.

Danton weeping at a metro entrance

Columbus in Barcelona

pointing Westward up the Ramblas

toward the American Express

Lincoln in his stony chair

And a great Stone Face

in North Dakota.

I know that Columbus

did not invent America.

I have heard a hundred housebroken Ezra Pounds.

They should all be freed.

It is long since I was a herdsman.

I am leading a quiet life

in Mike's Place every day

reading the Classified columns.

I have read the Reader's Digest

from cover to cover

and noted the close identification

of the United States and the Promised Land

where every coin is marked

In God We Trust

but the dollar bills

do not have it being gods unto themselves.

I read the Want Ads daily

looking for a stone a leaf

an unfound door.

I hear America singing

in the Yellow Pages.

One could never tell

the soul has its rages.

I read the papers every day

and hear humanity amiss

in the sad plethora of print.

I see where Walden Pond has been drained

to make an amusement park.

I see they're making

Melville eat his whale.

I see another war is coming

but I won't be there to fight it.

I have read the writing

on the outhouse wall.

I helped Kilroy write it.

I marched up Fifth Avenue

blowing on a bugle in a tight platoon

but hurried back to the Casbah looking for my dog.

I see a similarity

between dogs and me.

Dogs are the true observers

walking up and down the world

thru the Molloy country.

I have walked down alleys

too narrow for Chryslers.

I have seen a hundred horseless milkwagons

in a vacant lot in Astoria.

Ben Shahn never painted them

but they're there

in a vacant lot in Astoria.

I have heard the junkman's obbligato.

I have ridden superhighways

and believed the billboard's promises

Crossed the Jersey Flats

and seen the Cities of the Plain

And wallowed in the wilds of Westchester

with its roving bands of natives

in stationwagons.

I have seen them.

I am the man.

I was there.

I suffered somewhat.

I am an American.

I have a passport.

I did not suffer in public.

And I'm too young to die.

I am a selfmade man.

And I have plans for the future.

I am in line

for a top job.

I may be moving on

to Detroit.

I am only temporarily

a tie salesman.

I am a good Joe.

I am an open book

to my boss.

I am a complete mystery

to my closest friends.

I am leading a quiet life

in Mike's Place every day

contemplating my navel.

I am a part

of the body's long madness.

I have wandered in various nightwoods.

I have leaned in drunken doorways.

I have written wild stories

without punctuation.

I am the man.

I was there.

I suffered

somewhat.

I have sat in an uneasy chair.

I am a tear of the sun.

I am a hill

where poets run.

I invented the alphabet

after watching the flight of cranes

who made letters with their legs.

I am a lake upon a plain

I am a word

in a tree.

I am a hill of poetry.

I am a raid

on the inarticulate.

I have dreamt

that all my teeth fell out

but my tongue lived

to tell the tale.

For I am a still

of poetry.

I am a bank of song.

I am a playerpiano

in an abandoned casino

on a seaside esplanade

in a dense fog

still paying.

I see a similarity

between the Laughing Woman

and myself.

I have heard the sound of summer

in the rain.

I have seen girls

on boardwalks

have complicated sensations.

I understand their hesitations.

I am a gatherer of fruit.

I have seen how kisses

cause euphoria.

I have risked enchantment.

I have seen the Virgin

in an appletree at Chartres

And Saint Joan burn

at the Bella Union.

I have seen giraffes in junglejims

their necks like love

wound around the iron circumstances

of the world.

I have seen the Venus Aphrodite

armless in her drafty corridor.

I have heard a siren sing

at One Fifth Avenue.

I have seen the White Goddess dancing

in the Rue des Beaux Arts

on the Fourteenth of July

and the Beautiful Dame Without Mercy

picking her nose in Chumley's.

She did not speak English.

She had yellow hair

and a hoarse voice

I am leading a quiet life

in Mike's Place every day

watching the pocket pool players

making the minestrone scene

wolfing the macaronis

and I have read somewhere

the Meaning of Existence

yet have forgotten

just exactly where.

But I am the man

And I'll be there.

And I may cause the lips

of those who are asleep

to speak.

And I may make my notebooks

into sheaves of grass.

And I may write my own

eponymus epitaph

instructing the horsemen

to pass. 

                Autobiografia

A VIDA que levo é muito sossegada

Passo os dias no café do Mike

admirando os campeões

de bilhar do grupo Dante

e os viciados de matraquilhos

A vida que levo é muito sossegada

na zona leste de Broadway

Sou americano

fui um rapaz americano