How To Broil A Strip Loin

hard loving mother



No mais fundo de ti
Eu sei que te traí, mãe.

Tudo porque já não sou
O menino adormecido
No fundo dos teus olhos.

Tudo porque ignoras
Que há leitos onde o frio não se demora
E noites rumorosas de águas matinais.

Por isso, às vezes, as palavras que te digo
São duras, mãe,
E o nosso amor é infeliz.

Tudo porque perdi as rosas brancas
Que apertava junto ao coração
No retrato da moldura.

Se soubesses como ainda amo as rosas,
Talvez não enchesses as horas de pesadelos.

But you have forgotten a lot;
Forgot my legs grew
That my whole body grew,
And even my heart
It was great, Mom!

Look - do you hear me? -
Sometimes I am still the boy
Who fell asleep in your eyes;

still squeeze into the heart of white roses

How do you have in the frame;

still hear your voice:
was once a princess in
through the orange trees ...

But - you know - the night is enormous,
And my whole body grew.
I left the frame,
I gave my eyes to the birds to drink.

I have not forgotten anything, Mom.
I keep your voice inside me.
And let the roses.

Good evening. I go with the birds. Eugenio de Andrade



image removed from Google