The strange fulfilment found
In loving her is gone — today,
It’s just me
Searching for a valid reason to
Not let go of everything
After months without a glance of her blue eyes
Visions of the past;
The way I could never accept
The truth in my denial — someday,
I’d forget why
Freedom, the word that burns across the white land
Of my dreams. But it is too late.
No matter how loud I scream,
This beautiful freedom teases and hides
In your horizon — the beast in the depths
Of your eyes
Vinícius S. Pessoa
Translated (and slightly altered) by Lira
Sometimes I wish I could’ve stopped my mother
From going to bed with my father
In Dec, 1991
On a trip to cold Chilean lands,
But I’m here today
Complaining about things I can’t change
And listening to Canadian new wave
Love poems worn out by my cynicism,
Four biographies and an Oscar Wilde.
Éluard and a few dead gods —
All my books
Beaten, thrown to the ground.
For a while, I am done
Revisiting lines I know way too well
After sleepless nights and paper cuts.
My fingerprint-memories are on every page
I’d ask you for verses, but you’re out
Under the lights of an unknown realm
Enjoying all the things I’ve taught myself
How to hate
After a dream or two, in the morning,
Write me a poem about anything you like
Before I lie and say
I didn’t even miss you tonight
Lovers in my bed and career goals
Were plans for the year, but then
I went back to being me —
Sitting alone in a room, broke,
Saving coins and pennies.
Always on my own
Feeding stray cats,
Wondering where I’ll be when I’m 30
In the distance of half a decade
Eternity lasted for about eight days.
Everything built by love
Inconsistency can break
Today, we love.
Tomorrow, we forget —
All kinds of joy and pain
Are found and lost in a woman’s kiss
Translated and completely modified by Lira.
Maybe this is actually my own version, not a translation.
Chambers of my soul I’ve never known
Open to the world I’ve always feared;
Your secret thoughts I will never hear —
I know it’s over, but the past is never gone
There’s only one Springtime in life —
You have to sing it flowery
For God gave us voices to sing
When asked if you would pick cake or death,
Just go for the sweetest one.
I’d finish a piece and an Espresso
While waiting for the gates of Hell to open for me.
Fifteen years in the future, and maybe
I’ll get both and die from diabetes
After cursing god and regretting it
During every New Year’s Eve spent alone
Camus would understand the value
Of a good cup of caffeine. Even a well planned
Suicide can wait.
Marriage, eventually, will only bring sorrow…
Yet my heart
Has made me a bitter bachelorette
Will I live long enough to bring myself
To ever pray again?
If god is real
When will he send me away to where
No light can ever reach?