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    things the first dog on the street can tell you completou 1 ano hoje!

    things the first dog on the street can tell you completou 1 ano hoje!

    (Fonte: assets)

     
  2. Desfile Colcci 31/08/2013

     
  3. 14:14

    Notas: 1

    Desfile Colcci 31/08/2013

     
  4. 14:12

    Notas: 1

    Desfile Colcci 31/08/2013

     
  5. 14:09

    Notas: 1

    Desfile Colcci 31/08/2013

     
  6. image: Fazer download

    Natália

    Natália

     
  7. Letícia Enne

     
  8. 07:45 6th mar. 2013

    Notas: 1

    under the savanna sun

    the same sun

    scorches this September morning, withering surfaces both alive and dead

    they say it hasn’t rained here in over five months

    with the humidity below 10%, with the grass so dry, nearly straw, i wait on this lawn for someone i haven’t seen in years

    under this sun

    i rush through the daily motions, dehydrated, or i lift the car hood to put more water in the radiator, or i wait for the green light to carry on with my life
    but it’s no use

    now i speak like it comes from nowhere

    music, language, color, skin, the terra roxa inside my lungs, even the path my legs might one day walk through this city

    the turn things take in a distant square or street

    but the sun remains the same, an indifferent star burning its endless orbit

    the same sun drenches the nomad crossing the Mojave desert, or rots the leg of a writer delivered to death at the border of Tanzania with Kenya

    in Botafogo, on the balcony to the left of Maracanã’s radio booths, in rays, sweltering within a Bangu 2 prison cell

    in the smoking carburetor, in the chlorophyll which sustains this yellow ipê tree, or in the vitamin D that strengthens my femoral lap

    so i can walk or just stand, waiting

    the same sun squandered on the peak of a single mountain (glimpsed from here through a postcard)

    it would be better to find a bar and order a glass of water
    before succumbing to the drought

    that fries my hair, cracks my knees, and dulls a wait

    before watching fiery vortexes cross the central highlands on the nightly news, and the other modes of solar presence

    in bricks, in asbestos tiles, in empty water tanks, in the tie knot loosened during a sweaty coffee in the central market, in the pequi pit spat out beside the washed, green cajamangas ready to be eaten with salt, in the faint reflection of a shy lake in dirty water, last refuge for unlikely gray swans

    it’s the same at night, in the hum of the fan blowing hot air around the room

    to learn with the sun and not nurse false hopes

    no one will emerge from memory to account for lost hours

    they were all burned, forgotten, broken, dismembered

    some may be dead, but i wasn’t invited to a single burial

    those that live solemnly disregard all the squares and streets that lead to this moment

    they don’t care, they don’t budge, they don’t tire

    grabbing a fistful of dry brush mixed with dust and ants, smelling or even eating it, doesn’t mean growing closer to the land or to the people

    in distant orbit, light-years of heat strike those bones

    Written by Caio Meira
    Translated from the Portuguese by Rachel Morgenstern-Clarren

    http://intranslation.brooklynrail.org/portuguese/poetry-by-caio-meira

     
  9. 07:44

    Notas: 1

    Some of my poems tranlated by Rachel Morgentern-Clarren

     
  10. 12:36 4th mar. 2013

    Notas: 3

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    Brasil!

    Brasil!

     
  11. 08:24

    Notas: 4

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    Love Song

    Love Song

     
  12. 21:58 3rd mar. 2013

    Notas: 6

    Love song

     
  13. 11:01

    Notas: 9

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  14. 01:28

    Notas: 7

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    Love Song

    Love Song

     
  15. 01:28

    Notas: 3

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    Love Song

    Love Song