When all within is violent

You have travelled miles

for the northern light

and I've waited south, mother's eye

closer, never apart

Moving in, more obscure

our solstice was mainly 

doubt. And me, I'm a house.

Half of everything.

In reviewing my notebook, I have travelled for too long, now.

Various small fires and milk

a mound of dust

or rites for bad luck.

embankment of dusk

setting us apart

lieber maler, male mir!

____________________

Alguns pequenos fogos e leite

Um punhado de terra

ou rituais de má sorte.

Diques de anoitecer

nos separando

querido pintor, pinte a mim!