Poem of Seven Faces
PORTUGUÊS ESPAÑOLFRANÇAIS
When I was born, a twisted angel,
one of those who live in the shadow,
said: Go, Carlos! be gauche in life.
The houses spy on men
who chase after women.
The evening might have been blue,
had there not been so many desires.
The streetcar passes by full of legs:
white, black, yellow legs.
My God, my heart asks, why so many legs?
And yet my eyes
question nothing.
The man behind the mustache
is serious, simple and strong.
He seldom talks.
He has a few, rare friends
the man behind the glasses and the mustache.
My Lord, why did you abandon me
since you knew that I wasn't God
since you knew that I was weak.
World, world, vast world,
if my name was Twirled
it'd be a rhyme, it wouldn't be a solution.
World, world, vast world,
even vaster is my heart.
I shouldn't tell you
but this moon
but this cognac
shake a person up like hell.
 Carlos Drummond de Andrade
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