Not even eyes know what to say
to this rose of joy
open in my hands
or in the tresses of the day.
What I dreamt is simply this,
merely water, purple with cold.
Within this grief no rose can fit.
Give me the shadow of a ship.
(Eugenio de Andrade)
More Poetry from Eugenio de Andrade:
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- Animals (Eugenio de Andrade Poems)
- Against Obscurity (6) (Eugenio de Andrade Poems)
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