Bruma Poem by Ernesto Rodrigues
Bruma
Imóvel
Acredito na água
que lava a seiva dos dias
Na água
que cura a dor dos enganos
a estrela cadente
as horas de lava
o luar de sangue
Os meus olhos nos teus olhos
troco o sol pelo teu rosto
Entre as pedras
perfilo abandonos ao vento
sonhos fiéis
Lágrimas que respiram
madrugadoras
aos domingos
em maiúsculas
As palavras
o mar
e nada mais
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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7/30/2025 12:58:19 AM # 1.0.0
