Alma Novaes

 Lucid Dreams

(or how I like to lose lucidity)

I looked out of my pillow 

The night grow wild

ruffling the broom around him,

I hung my last hope

In this sensed wind

at the top of the hill, at the head,

Where everything is unmanageable

of divine nature

beautiful image, 

and human dreams, so many

Dreams on the loose

like cherry earrings

that you once put 

In my ears,

The chapel and the bandstand are quiet

on the stone attached to the cliffs

the rest is a gale

Just like our lives,

and my hair!

And still disheveled, 

Viewed from above

on the threshold of the Almerinda window,

far beyond the copinga,

in the distance, the wide horizon

that brought me back to the source,

and I seemed to hear the voice

of Adérito,

from 

Between the sky and the boulders

remembering the Távora River, from Vilar,

fried fish, from Alvite, 

of Leomil and Nacomba,

to cross so many mountains on foot,

bathing in the river,

pine needles to serve as a mattress,

of the sanchas and the trinities,

of the hard and meritorious stories,

in a diffuse mixture of paradise 

of all that once was mine,

If it vanished in an explosion 

a bomb,

a violence, a frivolous robbery

in a former election,

that I did not see coming,

in my chest,

In the deepest judgment

Who I was and am no longer me!

The birds perched and played,

as small children, 

with the balls of wheat

took flight to Lamego,

apple and chestnut trees

have always given the aroma to the earth, 

The peculiar smell of fertility

and I jumped to my feet, 

to remember Aquilino Ribeiro,

The Herds

of Peva, Soutosa and Carregal,

goat cheese 

and the many viewpoints,

beyond Douro

And yet 

Visit the memories

often 

everything fades away

In the usual turbulence

It stays inside me a fear

This one to perish

In Coffin, 

No Revisit 

The Lands of the Devil

and an immense thirst

to come back healthy

to

Moimenta in Viseu