Poetic Restlessness
This text was translated from Portuguese by AI to preserve the original meaning and poetic essence. Learn more here.
Poetry is the way you look at the world
But not like the shadow of the everyday,
That worn and filthy angle
It is full of energy and deceit!
Perhaps… human.
The writer has the view of combat,
The clamor of the restless soul,
Thoughts that insist on not being silenced.
In my dictionary, that is called: poet
When debating whether it’s five or six titles
More opinions rain down than salt on a Greek barbecue
But when contemplating the skies and the seas
Few are those who lose their peace
From the lack of my mental quietude,
A hug, goodbye.
