Carlos Drummond de Andrade Poems

From everything a little remained.
From my fear. From your disgust.
From stifled cries. From the rose
a little remained.
...

It is an old
piano, belonged
to a grandmother, dead
in another century.
...

Clara strolled in the garden
with the children.
The sky was green
over the grass,
...

Por que Deus permite
que as mães vão-se embora?
Mãe não tem limite,
é tempo sem hora,
...

Tenho apenas duas mãos
e o sentimento do mundo,
mas estou cheio de escravos,
minhas lembranças escorrem
...

I no longer want to consult
dictionaries in vain.
I only want the word
that will never be there
...

The poet rode the trolley drunk.
The sun came up behind the yards.
The small hotels slept very sadly.
The houses too were drunk.
...

They are more delicate even than shrubs and they run
and run from one side to the other, always forgetting
something.
...

I missed the trolley and the hope.
Pale, I go back home.
The street is useless and no car
would drive over my body.
...

João loved Teresa who loved Raimundo
who loved Maria who loved Joaquim
who loved Lili
who loved nobody.
...