Saturday, June 1, 2019




Artists are they, loving the days and the nights,
the trees, the branches and the leaves,
fully entwined around their waist,
loving the insects, the birds,
feeding on the haze of the gods,
on the shadow of the spectres.

They are the personification of the flames,
the brightness, the coloured gems.
They are secret, living, eloquent stars
shedding their pollinating seeds
on the scented trail of the wind.


Endless hair, a shade of blood, wine of dates,
magical substances,
and we stood tattooed one on the other, forever lost.
Give me your hand. Who knows?
Maybe the roses will be sweet in the vertigo
of the night, the mane of fog,
or the verses that I write on malachite green.

Endless hair carrying a shade of blood, of fire,
like split lymph in a wandering mane.
Magical were the liquid snakes;
we lived among the seaweed, poisonous plants,
and light hummingbirds.
By that time, I liked apple juice,
strawberries, mushrooms;
you liked to talk about jasmine.

Endless hair carrying the sun, ice manes,
night wine,
we stood tattooed in the stars,
the cicadas writing their hymns
all over our bodies,
their songs rhyming like texts,
the sea packing away the shell of the dreams.

Endless hair, dark hair, bright hair;
we were waking up over the gardens of dew,
knowing nothing about the clouds,
the unique fusion,
the mist of jasmine.

Yet, something should be fulfilled.


Bring me into the water of your
in that green well that pulsates
in the constellations of breeze,
in the borders of the foam,
in the dust of the night.
Bring me the gentle word
that drives my memory
into the submerged song
that sublimates the world
in a sky flower.

Give me your sorceress net,
lend me the bow, the sun,
the salt, the gems,
give me the wine, a pearl
to drive away the extensive agony,
as if only the night existed
and we could breathe through
the stellar lungs,
by the trees and a lotus flute
in the bright centre
of the morning glaze.


In the beginning, a large empty
flower began to stir.
We were the earth and the sky,
moving in the shade.
In our story, there were birds,
mountains and haze.

Like Spring sprouts, we moved
across the sun and the rainbows.
In the slime of shells and corals,
I heard your first words,
not knowing how to stop the purple,
the rivers and the sky
in the flower of the violins.

We were born from a sweet
We came to each other
out of a rebellious desire,
playing an ancient game
near a river, a popler,
a melodious lyre.


Your hands are gentle, carrying the aroma
of flowery linden trees,
cutting the bread and the sadness.
You walk through the path of the angels.
You know about harvesting,
wheat fields,
and your silence echoes among symphonies
of Saint-Saëns.

When your eyes look down, you mourn
the syncopated sunflowers,
the wasted sun, the loose sand,
the shrivelled bushes.

Reaping the first fruits of joy,
I go into a forest of sphinxes,
imagining my hands, your hands
in verses flowing,
the prism of light shining
in flashes of gold,
dreamlike symphonies, gentle syllables.

Your eyes were imaginary flowers.

MARIA DO SAMEIRO BARROSO is a multilingual poet, Medicine Doctor,  translator and researcher, Vice-President of the Portuguese Pen Centre between 2012-2014, Portuguese Cultural Delegate of the Poetic Liceo of Benidorm, Honorary Member of the Circle of Mozambican Writers in the Diaspora. She published forty poetry books in Portugal, Brazil, Spain, France and USA, translations and essays. She has published forty-six books of poetry, along with translations and literary essays. She is editor of the literary journal "Espaço do Ser – Poesia, Tradução e Ensaio". Her poems are translated into twenty languages. She has organized anthologies, cultural events, and she is frequently invited for international poetry festivals. She was awarded several literary poetry prizes. She is a History of Medicine researcher, Director of the Department of History of Medicine of the Portuguese Medical Association since 2012, visiting Professor of the Faculty of Medicine of the University of Lisbon, member of the Centre for History of the Faculty of Letters of the University of Lisbon, member of the Researcher of the Lisbon National Museum of Archaeology, and collaborator and referee of scientific books and journals.

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