— camilo pessanha
When I went back, I found my footsteps
still fresh in the moist sand,
and I reinvoked that fleeting hour,
alive again, in my eyes gone dark
eyes blurred with tears held back.
Wretched footsteps, why did you go mad,
veering astray, and why did you return
to the moment of our first farewell?
Where did you go, crazed, in the swirling wind
round and round like birds in a cage
until their languid wings aren’t up to flying?
And all that enormous trek– for what?
— if the tide wipes you out, when it comes up,
along with the tracks of the new trail now beginning.
Camilo Pessanha, Clepsydra; text from Rubim 2000: 41.