I missed the trolley and the hope.
Pale, I go back home.
The street is useless and no car
would drive over my body.
I will climb the slow steep slope
where paths are blended
All of them lead to
the beginning of drama and flora.
I do not know if I am suffering
or if is someone having fun
(and why not?) in the scarce night
with an insoluble piccolo.
And we, long time ago
shouted yes! to eternity.
(Carlos Drummond de Andrade)
More Poetry from Carlos Drummond de Andrade:
Carlos Drummond de Andrade Poems based on Topics: Body, Hope, Home, Eternity, Drama, Cars- Where Not Long Ago We Talked (Carlos Drummond de Andrade Poems)
- Letter To Stalingrad (Carlos Drummond de Andrade Poems)
- The Elephant (Carlos Drummond de Andrade Poems)
- Residue (Carlos Drummond de Andrade Poems)
- Beach - Palm - Peace (Carlos Drummond de Andrade Poems)
- The Wander's Illusion (Carlos Drummond de Andrade Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Hope Poems, Home Poems, Eternity Poems, Body Poems, Cars Poems, Drama PoemsBased on Keywords: trolley, piccolo, insoluble