A DAMNABLE LOVE
It was a flowing of forms
a grave and light essence
it was the tidying of chaos
a short-lived harmony.
It was the poem
leaning against the wall
as na idle flower
amid branches forgotten.
It was the poet
licking the vacant page
on which the magical poem
was taking shape.
Translated by Sérgio Pachá
Author's Biography
WRITERS' INDEX
NEXT WRITER
REBRA
PERSONAL LINKS
AUTHOR'S E- MAIL
REBRA BOOKSTORE