História de desembalar

Nessa altura todos acordaram
Felizes para sempre.

Tudo não tinha passado de um sonho.


                        Paulo José Borges

Suspension bridge

Each morning
The river emerges blinding.

The stretched tray with open arms
Serves a magical dose of boiling.

The combustions electrify the air.
And the moments in suspension
Are sorrows, spasms of things
Which are not yet.


                         Paulo José Borges