Category: /Poems/

My eyes on the horizon in twists and turns
Maybe I'm looking for a source of harmony
The fact that I dedicate myself to poetry, now so little,
Maybe my instant is now.
I'm not that young anymore,
I'm a lady, and I think of the memories,
In the now, in my future,
Maybe in the near future.
Yes, I observe the lines of the horizon,
And I notice changes in time,
In the wind, in the air.
My way of being,
My memories of children,
My memories of a dreamer.
My reality is hard to be a teacher.
Today my eyes are already saddened,
Of those who have gone, and left me alone.
The time, the longing, the experience of companionship.
The symbolism of my life.
The student arts,
The reading of philosophical books,
Biographies, poems,
The psalms and proverbs.
The life that translates dreams and my eyes fading.
The time that before slight,
Today, I ask for help to climb the stairs of my soul.
Today time reminds me,
Look at the pictures, some of them yellowish, in the old photo albums.
Ah. my memories, history of a world we've aged,
And, as I read today on Facebook,
How flawed we are in the literature,
It's the usual term, how dumb do we get!
I am not Emilia, but I have already decided to write so many memories,
Today, though, the eyes are smeared,
And no more with the perfect vision,
I still keep my ideals in my chest.
To you, my reader, much health, prosperity and peace.

Indication: https://www.google.com/search?client=firefox-b-d&channel=crow&q=Mem%C3%B3rias+de+Em%C3%ADlia

Tereza Cristina G Castro

I offer to all readers, friends, family...
São Paulo, July 3, 2019.

Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator

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