- Libbie
Absinthe
A poem by Brazilian writer Aleia Torio; her own translation into English.
How long, brother How long are we going to rise
before the sun and make
shine another day--canned
in buses and trains
waiting for our turn
at the stops
bank lines, grocery stores
and hospital halls
How long, brother
are we going to march
with a smile on our face
to the school to the church
to the slaughterhouse
and hear in silence the lights
of masters and pastors and madmen
How long are we going to sweep the dry
leaves fallen on sidewalks
and pick up the extraordinary
garbage they offer
wrapped in bright gold ribbons
How long, sister, how long
are we doing the nails
of ladies who plunge their claws
on the deep night of our skin--
how long are we shining
with the wax of our sweat
them shoes that step on the grass
of our dreams
How long, brother, our teeth
will engage together and make
spin these windmills of flesh
in the insatiable gear of our days
Brother, how long
How long are we going to open the wings
of the papers and wait, stunned
for the train, derailed
that's coming our way
Aleia Torio
Follow her on twitter @aleiatorio
