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Adélia Prado

Love in the ether

There is within me a landscape
between midday and two in the evening.
Leggy birds, beaks immersed in water,
enter and not in this place of memory,
a shallow lake with reed at the edges.
I inhabit it, when the desires of the body,
the metaphysics, exclaim:
how you are beautiful!
I want to write you til I find
where you segregate so much feeling.
You think about me, your secretive half-smile
traverses sea and mountain,
it startles me in shudders,
the supernatural love.
The body is light like the soul,
the minerals fly like butterflies.
Everything from this place
between midday and two in the evening.

With poetic license

When I was born a slender angel,
one of those that plays the cornet, announced:
she shall carry the flag.
A very heavy weight for a woman,
that species still put to shame.
I accept the subterfuges that fit me,
without needing to lie.
I am not so ugly that I cannot wed,
I think Rio de Janeiro to be a beauty and
now yes, now no, I believe in child-birth without pain.
But I feel what I write. I fulfill the destiny.
I open up lineages, I found kingdoms
- pain is not sourness.
My sadness does not have pedigree,
now my will for joy,
its root goes to my thousandth grandparent.
To be a cripple in life is a damnation for man.
Woman is unbending. I am.


God is more beautiful than I am.
And He isn't young.
This yes, is a consolation.