JÁ CÁ FALTAVA O POEMUCHO E de Paul Durcan, outra vez. Um belíssimo poema de amor, com a Irlanda ao fundo e por dentro.

NESSA
I met her on the first of August
In the Shangri-La Hotel,
She took me by the index finger
And dropped me in her well.
And that was a whirlpool,that was a whirlpool,
And I very nealy drowned.

Take off your pants, she said to me,
And I very nearly didn't;
Would you care to swim, she said to me,
And I hopped into the Irish sea.
And that was a whirlpool,that was a whirlpool,
And I very nealy drowned.

On the way back I fell in the field
And she fell down beside me.
I'd have lain in the grass with her all my life
With Nessa:
She was a whirlpool, she was a whirlpool,
And I very nearly drowned.

Oh Nessa my dear, Nessa my dear,
Will you stay with me on the rocks ?
Will you come for me into the Irish sea
And for me let your red hair down ?
And then we will ride into Dublin city
In a taxi-cab wrapped-up in dust.
Oh you are a whirlpool, you are a whirlpool,
And I am very nearly drowned.