GRATITUDE
José Araujo de Souza
For the bread I chew,
by the water I drink
and for the wine that cheers my repressed hatred,
I’m grateful.
For the peace I seek,
by the drop of gall
and by the little stroking of your hand,
I’m grateful.
For the good taste,
for the washed soul
and for the sad fate
that carries me,
I’m grateful.
By the burning fire,
for the body that is born
and the old stubbornness
that makes me ungrateful
I undo myself
In pieces
of gratitude.
THEIR
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