COUNTRY OF ABSENCE

To Ribeiro Couto

Country of absence
strange country,
lighter than an angel
and subtle gesture,
colour of dead algae,
colour of falcon,
with the age of always,
no happy age.

Doesn't grow pomegranate,

doesn't raise jasmine,
and it has no jealousy
nor indigo seas.
Name of his, name,
never did I hear,
and in the country without name
I will die.

Nor bridge nor boat

brought me here,
they didn't tell me
an island or country.
I was not looking for it
neither did I discover it.

Looks like a fable

that I learned,
dream of taking
and letting go.
And it is my homeland where
to live and die.

It was born from me from things

that are no country;
of homelands and homelands
that I had and lost;
of the creatures
that I saw die;
of what was mine
and left from me.
I lost mountain chains
where I slept;
I lost gold orchards
sweet to live in;
I lost the islands
of cane and indigo,
and their shadows
I saw clinging on me
and together and lovers
became country.

Locks of mists
without back or cervix,
breaths asleep
I saw me following,
and in wandering years
became country,
and in the country without name
I will die.

SHYNESS

If you look at me, I become beautiful

like the dew-bowed grass
and won't recognize my glorious face
the high canes when I go down the river.

I am ashamed of my sad mouth,

of my broken voice and my rough knees.
Now that you saw me and that you came,
I found myself poor and felt myself naked.

You found no stone in the trail

more naked of light in the dawn
than this woman that you lifted,
because you heard her song, the glance.

I will be quiet so they won't know

my joy those who pass through the plain,
in the glare that gives to my rough forehead
and the tremor of my hand...
It is night and to the grass comes down the dew;
look at me long and talk with affection,
that already tomorrow when descending the river
the one you kissed will be carrying beauty!