Poem by Iacyr Anderson Freitas

Translated from the Portuguese by Desirée Jung

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The same window
many times opened

the same light
on the furniture

and the birds that,
from the eaves, witness
the same setting sun

(one more delation,
an accident

and this question
– its stain
on the walls, the slopes
the mirrors
shutting against

the face, this question).

Poem published in The Immense Hour.