Biography: Gloria Sofija
Gloria Sofia, 1985, majored at the University of Azores. Invited in Harvard University, Tufts Univ and B.U. for reading and conversation. Nomined for Rolex M.P.A. I. With poem translate in more than 15 language. She go many festival poetry also represented her country Cape Verde in VIII Conference Literature UMass Boston.
You are
You are what I invent
You’re the night in my cold hands
You are time in my eyes
You are the day when I miss you
You are calm and I am fear
You are the dictation and I am the mistake
You are the laugh and I am the laughter
You are afternoon and I’m the waiting
You are the memory dressed in gray
And I am the covered body of the past
I am the cry of waiting and you are
The silent smile
I am the delusion of the future and
you are tomorrow dead
I am the dawn and you are the late
It’s you and me without us ever
Image
It’s easy to be sea when it’s sky
Or be mountains of clouds
But not a mountain of words
It is easy to love an illusion than poetry
Nobody taught that culture is our name
Each human with his character his laughter
Each person with the pain of being joy in itself.
I’m still the slave, bound by looks
I am still the artist sold by the image
Silence
You don’t need to talk
To burn this suffering life
I’m afraid of your voice
Guitar fall under the writing
a thin pain cuts through my womb
Morning smile
forget the piece of the illusion
That I planted in this wounded garden
I kept the saying in my hands
And dreams in the skin
Only poetry frees
A bird is not free
Even when it the sky
With the winds clinging to the wings
Dreams become a cold current
The melody is not free
When the sound is dispersed through thought
It becomes trapped between the fingers of the soul
The smell was never free
The aroma may be the sweet image of innocence
Of a child, even without freedom
The taste was always crushed
Smashe by greediness
Is lost in a locked freedom
The kisses have always been meshed with passion
Only poetry frees men from the pressure of having Translate:Anita Carapinheiro
Life is a war Hurry swallows novels Dreams chewed by history From a dry and anxious womb Someone broke the vase Before the roses wither The liquid from the orbits Feed the love Life is a war Infantile insomnia Hit me in the soul From the fingers you understand Wet land words Words of comfort Acceptance words Words that embrace Pushing words Words that don’t cry Words that are bankrupt Crumb words Life is a war We are in a field Of mined words Music explodes Rips out hope Break the eyes Mom mom mom Life is a war But I am the victory I am triumph I am the mother in the field of the battle I’m the mother in the boxing ring Life is a war Roses bleed us in words The shotguns of chocolates Lasagna wrapped around my ego Life is a war The leaves remain green Green of a withered hope Green that doesn’t smell like red. I’m at war with life Experiences with broken hands Grab my shoulders Refuse, refuse and refuse Believing that love hurts you I refuse, I refuse to believe In everything that doesn’t make me smile Life is a war Of emotions, of fear To stop loving Life is a war And I am the Glory Vitória’s daughter.
Cheira a vermelho
Cheira a vermelho e não a chama
Cheira vermelho e não sangue triste
Cheira vermelho e talvez um pouco
Um pouco de medo cinzas
E de azuis quebrados,
Mas ainda assim
Cheira vermelho.
Cheira vermelho
O amanhecer cheira
A ansiedade dos toques
O entardecer tem
Um cheiro sem cor
Mas antes que
Chegue ao fim
Cheira cruelmente a esperança
Cheira a vermelho
As rosas não morreram ainda
E ainda não morreram os cheiros
Cheira vermelho e cheira o medo
Medo negro de perder
E perder de amor
Cheira pão, olhares em caos
Cheira vermelho e não arde
Cheira o anoitecer e não as músicas
Cheira tanto vermelho
O cheiro rouba-me o sono
Madrugada cheira sonhos
Sonhos erguidos
Que nem a rosa ao acordar
Cheira a aurora
Aurora com gosto de vermelho
De rosas frescas
Cheira esperança
Cheira beijos
Cheira sorrisos das crianças
Cheira a amor e
Cheira a vermelho e
O riso do sonho
Sorriso do céu
Cheira a ti amor
E finalmente cheira a
amarelo.
Ouço gritos da vida
Que formam-se sangue
Nas lágrimas
Ouço o tik tak do tempo.
Mas estou debaixo da água
E debaixo de água os segundos são eternos.
Não quero libertar-me,
Tenho medo de ouvir o tik tak do coração
Saber que sobrevive sem o teu abraço
Ensandecida pela respiração
Sento na cabeça da ilusão
Peço ao rio que leva-me este corpo
Não desejo que leve a dor morra
Porque não saberia saborear
A doce liberdade sem o teu cheiro.
—
Com Melhores CumprimentosRegardsMet Vriendelijke Groeten