The defects themselves are not as bad
as the memories of the time
when I didn't have them, but
well, if that is all
(it is not, time after time)
Yet I wonder if
and where there is a limit
where I no longer want to go on
there's still só much I want:
see flowers and release balloons
around the world to touch
people with a caress
of soft thoughts and
moments of peace
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem