sexta-feira, 1 de julho de 2011

Like a prayer

 Este é um trecho do livro Grapes of Wrath, de John Steinbeck, que eu achei belissímo.
A cena é de uma delicadeza!

“I ain’t a preacher,” he said softly. “My prayers ain’t no good.”
She moistened her lips. “I was there when the ol’ man died. You said one then.”
“It wasn’t no prayer.”
“It was a prayer,” she said.
“It wasn’t no preacher’s prayer,”
“It was a good prayer. I want you should say one for me.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
She closed her eyes for a minute and then opened them again. “Then say one to yourself. Don’t use no words to it. That’d be awright.”
“I got no God,” he said.
“You got a God. Don’t make no difference if you don’t know what he looks like.” The preacher bowed his head. She watched him apprehensively. And when he raised his head again she looked relieved. “That’s good,” she said. “That’s what I needed. Somebody close enough – to pray.”


Dedicado à minha amiga Regina.