E de Empréstimos (ou I de Invisíveis Correntes)

Gostaria de me ter lembrado, antes do Diogo, de colocar aqui o "Soneto para Cesário", do Dinis Machado, de quem ainda espero o último policial.
Mas não resisto a deixar aqui este poema, que fui pedir emprestado a outro blog, e que me parece perfeito para dedicar a quem partilha comigo este 4º aniversário de hoje:

IN THE LIBRARY

For Octavio

There's a book called

"A Dictionary of Angels."
No one has opened it in fifty years,
I know, because when I did,
The covers creaked, the pages
Crumbled. There I discovered
The angels were once as plentiful
As species of flies.The sky at dusk
Used to be thick with them.
You had to wave both arms
Just to keep them away.
Now the sun is shining
Through the tall windows.
The library is a quiet place.
Angels and gods huddled
In dark unopened books.
The great secret lies
On some shelf Miss Jones
Passes every day on her rounds.
She's very tall, so she keeps
Her head tipped as if listening.
The books are whispering.
I hear nothing, but she does.

- CHARLES SIMIC