Monday, April 25, 2011

Could I Have A Brazillian Please

Another great poet leaves us .... Portrait of Women (Gonzalo Rojas)

always will be the night, a woman, to look at you face to face,
alone in your mirror, free husband nude
with accurate and terrible reality of the great vertigo
destroys you. You will always be your night and your knife, and the frivolous
phone to listen to my goodbye with a single blow.

I swore not to write. So I am calling in air
to say nothing, as the empty: nothing, nothing,
but the same and always the same of the same
never hear me, why I do not ever understand, but the veins you
burn that I'm saying.

Ponte dress red that comes to your mouth and your blood,
and burn me at the last cigarette
fear the great love, and go barefoot in the air that came with the wound
visible in your beauty.
shame of crying and crying in the storm.

I will not die. I will paint you in a flash your face
as you are: two eyes to see things visible and invisible,
nose and mouth animal archangel, and a smile
forgive me, and something sacred and timeless flying in your front
woman, and I shudder, because your face is the face of the Spirit.

You come and go, and love the sea than you away with its foam,
and stay motionless I heard that name in the abyss
night, and kiss me just as a wave. Enigma
left. Enigma will be.
not fly with me. This woman, I'll let you figure.

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