“La lucidité est la blessure la plus proche du soleil.” *
– René Char
* “Lucidity is the closest wound to the sun.”
Keys are lost in the sorry box kept in the throat. No matter the rattle, it stays silent. Swept off the ground, tumbled down. The keys fell from the mouth and there was a loud yell echoing from door to door. The doors got embarrassed and disappeared, leaving a keyhole for the lost and found keys. They all worked. The sorry box was folded up, into an envelop for a letter.
Ninguém, na vasta selva religiosa In the vast religious jungle sprawling Across the world, no one ever Sees the god he knows. We hear in the breeze what the breeze brings. What we think, be it love or gods, Passes, because we pass. 10-XII-1931 Fernando Pessoa
chameleonian times 