segunda-feira, 19 de dezembro de 2016


In response to Paul Gauguin...
We leave the meanings aside,
We are still land.
We suffer the action of the wind, of the intemperance;
From the bruising of animals,
From floods, earthquakes ...
And our face is still beardless.
And this desire to open our secrets,
Franking our mines ...
What is this chaos that haunts us?
What is this itch in our guts?
What is this fire cough?
Sometimes, that rattle like a birthing.
For others, this rest in our own grave.
When we rise as men and women,
Maybe human beings ...
Will we begin our true journey?

Poetry - Susana Luiz.
Translation - Marcos Revérberi de Mello.
Work - Where do we come from/ What are we/ Where are we going -
Paul Gauguin.

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