The rain falls.
The roofs are wet,
drops drain through the glazes.
The sky is white,
the time new,
the city washed.
The afternoon noons down,
without the cicada’s chirruping
without bird’s joyous chants,
without the sun, without the heavens.
It rains.
The rains falls wet
in umbrella’s roofs.
It rains.
The rain falls rapidly,
in our eyes and wets.
The winds blow winded,
in the glazes which sway.
in the plants which unfold.
It rains in deserted beaches,
it rains in the sea which becomes grey,
it rains in the black pavement,
In rains in the hearts.
It rains in each soul,
In each haven it rains.
And when you gazed me in myself,
with eyes following me,
and as the rain felt,
in my heart your eyes’ rain
rained.
rained.
Translated by Ana Lucia Beck from Ana Cristina Cesar - Poetica, 2013, page 140. Written in November, 1965 and originally published in Ineditos e dispersos, 1985.
For more on Ana Cristina: http://www.ims.com.br/ims/explore/acervo/noticias/ana-cristina-cesar-caderno
