Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Maruja Vieira

DEFINED TIME

It’s alright that life
from time to time
strips us of everything.

In the darkness
eyes learn
to see more clearly.
When solitude
is a total absence
of body and hands
there are open roads
towards the deepest
and farthest point.
In the silence
the beloved voices clearly
renew their words
and the walls muffle
the familiar echo
of absent steps.

Lips that used to be
the place of love
in quiet afternoons
learn of the greatness
of a rebellious and anguished song.
There is a wind suspended
on the tall trees,
a beating down of rain
on dark and smoldering ruins,
a grimace on every face
that tells of bitterness and defeat.

A slow falling of useless
hours follows,
detached from time
and beyond the tiny
circle of the world,
that closed up world
with its vague stars
and its fog of dreams
forcefully awakening
the wounded voice of man,
dweller on Earth.

Before, combat and thunder
were far away,
almost unknown.
Now blood runs
on equal courses
of hatred and hope
without anything stopping
the invasive current
of eternal forces.

TIEMPO DEFINIDO

TIEMPO DEFINIDO

Está bien que la vida
de vez en cuando
nos despoje de todo.

En la oscuridad
los ojos aprenden
a ver más claramente.
Cuando la soledad
es el total vacío
del cuerpo y de las manos
hay caminos abiertos
hacia lo más profundo
y hacia lo más distante.
En el silencio
las amadas voces renuevan
claramente sus palabras
y los muros resguardan
el rumor conocido
de los ausentes pasos.

Los labios que antes fueran
sitio de amor
en las calladas tardes
aprenden la grandeza
de la canción rebelde y angustiada.
Hay un viento en suspenso
sobre los altos árboles,
un repique de lluvia
sobre ruinas oscuras y humeantes,
un gesto en cada rostro
que dice de amargura y vencimiento.

Sigue un lento caer
de horas inútiles,
desprendidas del tiempo
y más allá del círculo
pequeñito del mundo,
aquel mundo cerrado
con sus vagas estrellas
y su bruma de sueños
despierta inmensamente
la herida voz del hombre
poblador de la tierra.

Antes estaban lejos,
casi desconocidos,
el combate y el trueno.
Ahora corre la sangre
por los cauces iguales
del odio y la esperanza
sin que nada detenga
la invasora corriente
de las fuerzas eternas.
Close

DEFINED TIME

It’s alright that life
from time to time
strips us of everything.

In the darkness
eyes learn
to see more clearly.
When solitude
is a total absence
of body and hands
there are open roads
towards the deepest
and farthest point.
In the silence
the beloved voices clearly
renew their words
and the walls muffle
the familiar echo
of absent steps.

Lips that used to be
the place of love
in quiet afternoons
learn of the greatness
of a rebellious and anguished song.
There is a wind suspended
on the tall trees,
a beating down of rain
on dark and smoldering ruins,
a grimace on every face
that tells of bitterness and defeat.

A slow falling of useless
hours follows,
detached from time
and beyond the tiny
circle of the world,
that closed up world
with its vague stars
and its fog of dreams
forcefully awakening
the wounded voice of man,
dweller on Earth.

Before, combat and thunder
were far away,
almost unknown.
Now blood runs
on equal courses
of hatred and hope
without anything stopping
the invasive current
of eternal forces.

DEFINED TIME

It’s alright that life
from time to time
strips us of everything.

In the darkness
eyes learn
to see more clearly.
When solitude
is a total absence
of body and hands
there are open roads
towards the deepest
and farthest point.
In the silence
the beloved voices clearly
renew their words
and the walls muffle
the familiar echo
of absent steps.

Lips that used to be
the place of love
in quiet afternoons
learn of the greatness
of a rebellious and anguished song.
There is a wind suspended
on the tall trees,
a beating down of rain
on dark and smoldering ruins,
a grimace on every face
that tells of bitterness and defeat.

A slow falling of useless
hours follows,
detached from time
and beyond the tiny
circle of the world,
that closed up world
with its vague stars
and its fog of dreams
forcefully awakening
the wounded voice of man,
dweller on Earth.

Before, combat and thunder
were far away,
almost unknown.
Now blood runs
on equal courses
of hatred and hope
without anything stopping
the invasive current
of eternal forces.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère