Tuesday, 19. October 2004
Silence - Eugénio de Andrade
When tenderness
seems tired at last of its offices
and sleep, that most uncertain vessel, still delays,
when blue bursts from your eyes
and searches mine for steady seamanship,
then it is I speak to you of words desolate, derelict,
transfixed by silence.
Translated from Portuguese by Alexis Levitin
Big Book Of Poetry
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