Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Maruja Vieira

SLOW DUSK

My hands they are filled
with the sun and scents of sun.
The dusks return to me ever
the invisible presence of you.

Your glance follows me
on sketching my shadow-form

Within this landscape it is you
who are the tree of my dream.
Drops of restless light
down twixt the leaves filter

There is a column
of gray smoke-fine-on the wind.
It is slowly forming a word
just to hold the things of the past.

LA TARDE LENTA

LA TARDE LENTA

Tengo llenas las manos
de sol y de perfume.
La tarde me devuelve
tu invisible presencia.

Tu mirada me sigue,
dibujando mi sombra.

Estás en el paisaje
como un árbol de sueño,
gotas de luz inquieta
tiemblan entre las hojas.

Una columna leve
de humo gris en el viento
está formando apenas
el nombre del recuerdo.
Close

SLOW DUSK

My hands they are filled
with the sun and scents of sun.
The dusks return to me ever
the invisible presence of you.

Your glance follows me
on sketching my shadow-form

Within this landscape it is you
who are the tree of my dream.
Drops of restless light
down twixt the leaves filter

There is a column
of gray smoke-fine-on the wind.
It is slowly forming a word
just to hold the things of the past.

SLOW DUSK

My hands they are filled
with the sun and scents of sun.
The dusks return to me ever
the invisible presence of you.

Your glance follows me
on sketching my shadow-form

Within this landscape it is you
who are the tree of my dream.
Drops of restless light
down twixt the leaves filter

There is a column
of gray smoke-fine-on the wind.
It is slowly forming a word
just to hold the things of the past.
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Gemeente Rotterdam
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