Versão Portuguesa

Poetry book

My body bruises because my soul sees
That there are still children with nothing to eat,
With a poor look they beg
A gesture, a moment.
My heart aches from all the suffering,
They might as well stab me with a dagger
Than continuing to see this annihilation.

A Três Vozes, in Um Grito Em Liberdade, © 2008

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