Ruy Belo

1933-1978

Flower Of Solitude

We lived we conversed we resisted
we crossed paths on the street under the trees
we perhaps made a little stir
we traced timid gestures in the air
but what words can explain
that ours was a solitary and silent
profoundly silent heart
and in the end our eyes watched
like eyes that watch in forests
In the midst of the tumultuous city
in the visible angle of its countless edges
the flower of solitude grew lusher each day
We had a name for this
but the ruthless time of men
killed in us the one who was dying
And in this ambitious heart
alone like a man christ dies
What shall we call the void that flows
relentless as a river?
It is born it swells it will empty
and in all of this it's finally a sea
We lived we conversed we resisted
without realizing that in everything we die a little

Translation: 1997, Richard Zenith
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