Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Maruja Vieira

MEMORY OF ONE TREE

One day in the future
I’ll remember this tree
I’ll see that its branches
reach my hands
leaded with the aroma
the afternoon is now spreading

Leaves and water
are bright green waves.
The gray trunk designs
long, strange maps.

I shall remember this sky
looking into my window
and the invisible bird
singing in the mornings

I’ll remember this hour
with the man passing by
collecting empty bottles
along the street,
and the poor little girl
who comes barefoot
from the dark cavern
pierced in the mountain

Faraway, a bell sounds…
Here, within, the music
and a face looking at me
from beyond the soul.

It is September again.
I feel your love so near.

From a different place
of life, your eyes
look at me in the mist
eroding distances

On a distant day
I’ll remember this hour
and my boat will be closer
to your shore.

MEMORIA DE UN ÁRBOL

MEMORIA DE UN ÁRBOL

Un día en el futuro
recordaré este árbol.
Sentiré que sus ramas
llegan hasta mis manos,
cargadas del perfume
que hoy difunde la tarde.

Brillantes olas verdes
son las hojas y el agua.
El tronco gris dibuja
largos, extraños mapas.

Recordaré este cielo
que asoma a mi ventana
y el pájaro invisible
que en las mañanas canta.

Recordaré esta hora,
con el hombre que pasa
recogiendo botellas
vacías por la calle,
y la niñita pobre
que viene sin zapatos
desde la cueva oscura
que horada la montaña.

Lejos, una campana…
Aquí dentro, la música
y un rostro que me mira
de más allá del alma.

Otra vez es septiembre.
Siento tu amor cercano.

Desde un lugar distinto
de la vida, tus ojos
me miran en la bruma
que borra las distancias.

En un lejano día
recordaré esta hora
y ya estará más cerca
de tu orilla mi barca.
Close

MEMORY OF ONE TREE

One day in the future
I’ll remember this tree
I’ll see that its branches
reach my hands
leaded with the aroma
the afternoon is now spreading

Leaves and water
are bright green waves.
The gray trunk designs
long, strange maps.

I shall remember this sky
looking into my window
and the invisible bird
singing in the mornings

I’ll remember this hour
with the man passing by
collecting empty bottles
along the street,
and the poor little girl
who comes barefoot
from the dark cavern
pierced in the mountain

Faraway, a bell sounds…
Here, within, the music
and a face looking at me
from beyond the soul.

It is September again.
I feel your love so near.

From a different place
of life, your eyes
look at me in the mist
eroding distances

On a distant day
I’ll remember this hour
and my boat will be closer
to your shore.

MEMORY OF ONE TREE

One day in the future
I’ll remember this tree
I’ll see that its branches
reach my hands
leaded with the aroma
the afternoon is now spreading

Leaves and water
are bright green waves.
The gray trunk designs
long, strange maps.

I shall remember this sky
looking into my window
and the invisible bird
singing in the mornings

I’ll remember this hour
with the man passing by
collecting empty bottles
along the street,
and the poor little girl
who comes barefoot
from the dark cavern
pierced in the mountain

Faraway, a bell sounds…
Here, within, the music
and a face looking at me
from beyond the soul.

It is September again.
I feel your love so near.

From a different place
of life, your eyes
look at me in the mist
eroding distances

On a distant day
I’ll remember this hour
and my boat will be closer
to your shore.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère