Love song

Do not stare at me. do not. I am sincere.
there are many things that happen beyond
my limited control and disappear.
Why should I tell you that I’m not so fond

of most of them? why should I otherwise
coldly excuse myself for having no fear?
I have no time left. believe me, the skies
tell us everything is as clean and clear

as a knife’s blade wiped after de red
bleeding of sacrifice, wose mirror says
it will be drawn again and kill instead
of reflecting your narrow flashing face.

Let’s then look at the moon above the trees.
Never forget how much I love you. please.


Vasco Graça Moura in Poesia 2001/2005