(First Stanza)
Writing a poem is like catching a bird.
Like casting a net.
(Second Stanza)
But tell me: who can hunt a bird
with no air for its wings?
And the river fish,
how do they drown?
(Third Stanza)
What do they call themselves?
And I thought of fish, of birds.
[From Os hemisferios]
81 (Berta Dávila) (my trans.)
To hold down beauty with trembling hands,
like pressing a pin
into a butterfly.
That is poetry:
to hold down beauty perhaps to put it on display
held by pins on specimen cards.
To hold down beauty with trembling hands,
like pressing a pin
into a butterfly.
That is poetry:
to hold down beauty perhaps to put it on display
held by pins on specimen cards.
[From Raíz da fenda]
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