QUESTIONS TO AN EXPERIENCED POET
(To Gladstone Silva)
Bills, bills, what a montain of bills!
Less, plus...
How much times "less" more then "pluss", without any division!
And in this mathematic, I become lost and drunk...
And, in spite of this, with so much "less" and "plus"
I still counting the bills and the contes...
Will be the persons like the contes,
In the corners of the enchantments?
And if I pay my bills with stars and happy dreams?
How will I mix poems with an aristotelian mind,
That does not exist?
How can I find a seed of a crude thought
If all the poetry bewitch me?
And in each bill, and in each conte and enchantment,
I lost myself, wainting for the meeting of the
ideal with the real,... in a monumental BANG,
that, certainly, will happen,
when the poetry meet the crude reality
and want to survive!
(Will it hurt?...)