Ela guardou canções, tomavam pouco espaço
E as capas lhe eram belas:
Uma que apanhou sol e de matizes baços;
Uma cheia de círculos de jarra d´água;
Uma colada, num “acesso de ordem” dela,
E colorida, pela filha – aguar-
daram assim, até que em sua viuvez as
Achou, procurando algo, e pôs-se dessa vez a

Reaprender como cada acorde, obediente
E franco, introduziu
Palavras se espalhando com hífens, e o alento
Infalível da juventude, a tomar vulto
Como uma árvore na primavera – daí o
Frescor entoado, que jazia oculto,
E a certeza do tempo armazenado, igual
À vez em que as tocou primeiro – e o principal:

O clarão dessa tão falada luz, o amor,
Rompeu, mostrou enfim,
Vogando no alto, o seu nascente resplendor,
Sempre anunciando resolver e saciar,
Pôr as coisas em ordem todo o tempo. Assim,
Empilhá-las de volta ali, chorar,
Foi duro, sem admitir, de forma inglória,
Que nunca fora assim, e não seria agora.

Trad.: Alípio Correia de Franca Neto

Love song in age

She kept her songs, they took so little space,
The covers pleased her:
One bleached from lying in a sunny place,
One marked in circles by a vase of water,
One mended, when a tidy fit had seized her,
And coloured, by her daughter –
So they had waited, till in widowhood
She found them, looking for something else, and stood

Relearning how each frank submissive chord
Had ushered in
Word after sprawling hyphenated word,
And the unfailing sense of being young
Spread out like a spring-woken tree, wherein
That hidden freshness sung,
That certainty of time laid up in store
As when she played them first. But, even more,

The glare of that much-mentioned brilliance, love,
Broke out, to show
Its bright incipience sailing above,
Still promising to solve, and satisfy,
And set unchangeably in order. So
To pile them back, to cry,
Was hard, without lamely admitting how
It had not done so then, and could not now.

Aqui: https://alipiocorreia.wordpress.com/2013/07/16/alguns-poemas-de-philip-larkin-ingles-portugues/