Plane Trees Poem by José Tolentino Mendonça

After shutting everything, I reopen the door
and plunge unsteadily into the empty darkness
at certain hours I'm afraid of the company
of what doesn't sleep
of what endures in our space
ruled by other forces

But it also happens that I first turn on the light
and only then
feel scared of this house that shelters me
terrified of its invisible maelstroms
which seem to be getting closer and closer
as if I were about to die
at the very hands of God

I don't know how to wake up alive from these things:
I take advantage of the dusk's clamor to scream
I leave you for an instant (just an instant)
to close my eyes that burn so much
or I toss leaves from the riverbank into the water
to measure the time of a life
that's drowning

Translation: 2006, Richard Zenith