Cantata dos Limoeiros, by Carlos Nejar
Cantata Of The Lemon Trees
All of earth extends itself
and its welcome is fevered.
There is joyous exultation,
a complete repose.
In everything that murmurs
or makes a happy gesture
to caress my shoulder.
Yes, I tremble in everything!
And then the earth extends itself.
The day has its full and
almond-like eyes.
I can measure the sun
its light falls on the lemon trees,
its weight is your kiss?
Colossal, thick.
We grow on the porch.
And we battle with each other.
We die, we emerge again.
We are in spring
when the earth extends itself.
Just like our flesh
that evaporates over months,
we will be pollen, lilies.
And our souls, cedars.
You are real, my love
and what is real has frontiers.
We are two, apple trees
with thrushes, meadows.
And the heart unites
the arguments of sludge, linden trees,
the arguments of dew, churchyards,
of rain and horses.
The hearts adjust themselves
in the breeze on the hill.
O my heart: the pampas of the moon
and the kite that lifts itself up.
Your heart floats
in the same chest, above
the tempestuous hordes,
feeling a new zeal.
All of earth extends itself
to give an embrace. Can time
measure itself in time?
Love is to be whole.
“Cantiga Da Estrela Barca,” by Denise Emmer
Ballad Of The Star Boat
Star boat
reveal to me
the far side
of sadness
the side
of the night.
Bless me
white star
antique doll
friend
of my
moist
window.
Lift me
pink wilderness
from the wilderness
that is celestial,
that keeps the
alignment
of the old
dawn’s spine
old.
Where the beautiful
star sleeps,
is
it torn
and does it constantly
enchant
a space
in me?
I demolish
myself too
down to the soil
of my curves.
Speak to me,
shifting star!
Why are you
only transparent?
I hate you
when you forget me
for these
roads
on the earth.
Tell me
goddess of stories,
on which points
of the pillow
does this young man rest
who carries me
and transports me
to the profound tear
in the infinite,
feet still on the ground.