Do Desespero (Sylvia Plath -Three Women)

Volto a Sylvia Plath (ela que me conhece tão bem):

Leaves and petals attend me. I am ready.

*

Trains roar in my ears, departures, departures!
The silver track of time empties into the distance,
The white sky empties of its promise, like a cup.
These are my feet, these mechanical echoes.
Tap, tap, tap, steel pegs. I am found wanting.
This is a disease I carry home, this is a death.
Again, this is a death. Is it the air,
The particles of destruction I suck up? Am I a pulse
That wanes and wanes, facing the cold angel?
Is this my lover then? This death, this death?
As a child I loved a lichen-bitten name.
Is this the one sin then, this old dead love of death?

*
There is a snake in swans.

*
I have stitched life into me like a rare organ,
And walked carefully, precariously like something rare.