Nicolau

 

Under August's sun

in Mertola's square

you waited for somebody,

pushed by sultriness,

peering greedily

in your hand-cart.

Only three flavours for the palate:

cream, strawberry and chocolate.

Until evening

at every passerby

you anxious stand up,

maybe a customer!

I still imagine

you on the bench

raking around restless,

cleaning the hand-cart,

stand up and sit down...

Finally fill a cone

of ice-cream

and give it to the child

who smiles at you...

 

12/03/2007

Like a tuna

Sea Alphabet - Tempera and china ink on paper.

I'm like a tuna

in a sardine box.



Oppressed,

forced,

faded,

fenced.

I've got a broken wing

and a chain.

I can't fly

I, a moth.

 

25/01/2007

Thirst

Wrinkles - China ink on paper

My joys' source

has dried up.

I'm thirsty.

I'd like to drink,

but I find

only mud.
 

I loved the gush

tickling my nose.

Fresh and lively,

delighted also

the darker days.
 

Now its mud

obscure my life.

It doesn't quench my thirst,

it doesn't refresh,

it doesn't slide

on my lips.
 

There's no more water for me.
 

Not for me.

 

05/02/2007