Don't read my name yet
(poetry)
I'm the serene that waters the grass
lit by the new moon, or full
the drink that intoxicates the noctivago
in stupid, ethyl daydreams
no, don't read my name yet
that may not be found in the footer
nor in any other referential
maybe name a street
or I would say any cold headstone
I am the warm breeze of summer mornings
the acid rain that tempers the soil
the oxygen-free water flowing in the river
the excrement of the young, adult animal
but, don't read my name yet
because I am a few degrees on the port side
and I no longer write it on paper
neither do I sign with indescribable doodle
I am the idea that is lost in aphorisms
eclectic that say nothing and hence
I am the sentence without accent and meaningless
the poem without rhyme that insists on being free
within this absurd end-of-night metric
however, don't read my name yet
because you wouldn't recognize me even if I was
before you, with my dirty and bleached hat
my ragged and inelegant way of the country
my unpleasant morning breath, for everything
this I must tell you that my name has not
no importance at such a time.
rir quando for o momento,
ResponderExcluirentristecer-se é fato consumido, consumado,
dentro desse turbilhão de único sentimento
escarafunchando aquilo que devia estar preso a cadeado
mas livre encontra-se ao alcance do mais torpe pensamento
que carece de boas ideias que num clichê infame, define ideais
no difícil e não menos esquisito jeito que administramos tudo isso