I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day (Gerard Manley Hopkins)

I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day.
What hours, O what black hours we have spent
This night! what sights you, heart, saw; ways you went!
And more must, in yet longer light's delay. 
With witness I speak this. But where I say
Hours I mean years, mean life. And my lament
Is cries countless, cries like dead letters sent
To dearest him that lives alas! away.

I am gall, I am heartburn. God's most deep decree
Bitter would have me taste: my taste was me;
Bones built in me, flesh filled, blood brimmed the curse.
Selfyeast of spirit a dull dough sours. I see
The lost are like this, and their scourge to be
As I am mine, their sweating selves; but worse.

__________

Desperto e sinto - as sombras descem, não o sol.

Quais horas, negras horas, quais! foram perdidas

Na noite! Coração, quais visões, idas-vias

E mais mister: delonga-ao-longe o arrebol.

Eu testemunho. Mas onde o texto diz só

"Horas" -- "eras" e "vida", eu digo. Jeremio

Queixas-sem-conto, um poemorto dado ao imo

Amigo alá o mais distante, ohime! de nós.

Sou félstula, sou miocáustico. Meu Deus

Decrép'ta-me o amargor do gosto: e o fel sou Eu;

Ossagruras e carnavates, maldissangue.

Autânimo fermento obra somente o breu.

E assim quem 'stá perdido: o seu flagelo -- e o meu --

É ser-se, o suardor; e pior, d o r a v a n t e.