International poetry day-not small stuff



#Internationalpoetryday today. Here’s a poem from my second book (As feridas essences/The essential wounds) called Coisa Pouca/Small stuff. Hope you enjoy it:

Coisa pouca

Talvez das poucas coisas que façam sentido
Seja esta luz que acaba feita de mantos de sombra
Que cai sobre as coisas que começam agora,
Dando-lhes forma, dando-lhes vida,
Sabendo delas.

Perguntaram-me uma vez como se a pergunta fosse um punhal aguçado
Beijando ao de leve a minha palpitante veia,
Perguntaram-me uma vez para trocar a escuridão em palavras.

Eu enchi uma folha com o teu nome, a única coisa luminosa de que me consigo lembrar.

Small stuff

One of the very few things that probably makes sense tonight
It’s this light that ends
in a mantle of shadows
falling over things that start to breathe now
shaping them, giving them a life that is different
knowing about them

Once upon time there was a question
that felt like if a sharpened dagger
touched just very lightly
my pumping aorta

The question was:
can you put Darkness into words?


I picked up a sheet of paper
and filled it, writing down your name
the brightest thing I could ever remember

International poetry day-not small stuff

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