Maybe the greatest contemporanean Brazilian poet, journalist and art critic Ferreira Gullar, aged 86, died today of pneumonia.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ferreira_Gullar
Two translated poems (not his best):
"Lesson
Even as you once were open to happiness
open up now to suffering
its fruit
and ardent counterpart.
Even as
you went to the heart
of happiness
lost yourself in it
and in that loss
found yourself
now let sorrow do its work
without lies
without excuses
evaporating in your flesh
every illusion
for life only consumes
what sustains it.
Exile
In a house in Ipanema surrounded by trees and birds
in the hot shade of afternoon
among familiar furniture
in the hot shade of afternoon
among trees and birds
among familiar odours
they live their lives
they live my life
in the shade of a hot afternoon
in the shadow of a hot afternoon "
http://www.antoniomiranda.com.br/poe...gullar.html#en