there’s a savage light
there’s a savage light scanning my name slowly going insane within the humid gut of memory. the voice’s space expands until it reaches the unbreathable age of objects. i sit watching the beach how the water dreads coming too close almost touching on questions. my eyelids drain down to the nerves. there is an unbearable coldness in the slide of time over the moulded plaster of each name, and a feverish place, where intelligence manages to crumble away at all the decipherable traces of life. each name, in the inner stillness of its womb, in the simmered blood of nights, carries an unpronounceable heavy light. © Translated by Ana Hudson, 2013 First Published on Poems From the Portuguese