Carlos Drummond de Andrade Poems

I spent one hour thinking of a verse
my pen does not want to write.
Yet, it is here inside
restless, alive.
...

I wish I had the courage
To speak of this secret
To tell the world
About this love
...

After Madrid and London, there are still great cities.
The world hasn't ended, for amidst the ruins
...

There comes a time when we no longer say: my God.
A time of absolute purity.
A time when we no longer say: my love.
Because love proved useless.
...

How to remember without suffering?
to recollect without horror?
The sound has transported me
to that kingdom where life does not exist
...

Why does God allow
that mothers go away?
A mother has no limit,
she is time without hour
...

The door of truth was open,
but only let pass
half of a person each time.
Thus, it was impossible to reach the whole truth,
...

The hammock between two mango trees
swayed in the sunken world.
It was hot, windless.
...

When I was born, a crooked angel,
the kind who live in shadows,
said: Go, Carlos! Be gauche in life.
...

The great pain of things that will happen
turned into the most exquisite pleasure
when among a thousand photos that were displayed,
I had the grace and fortune of seeing you.
...