COMMON DAY
José Araujo de Souza
The poet, happy,
concluded the poem
and didn’t see it on the TV newspaper
the world war news,
restarted.
He took his coffee
with cookies
looking at the horizon from the window
Facing the sea,
without knowing that on the street,
eight floors below,
some beggar had died
from hunger and cold
on the night just ended.
The poet is happy
because you can live isolated
of the whole truth of life
daily.
The poet is happy
because you can do
of the sadness you feel
your most beautiful day.
And an enchanted night.
