Poems

When Morning Breaks

Oh when
Oh when the morning breaks
And the night becomes more night
When the morning breaks
With its feet on the ground
And the earth in its heart
When blood flows from the body
Like a tree with open arms
And the seed shouts from the rock
Like a green-mouthed drum
And from that sound
That warrior’s blood
Mouths are born
centred mouths
torn mouthsIn the wheel of the sun
 
Oh when the morning breaks
Without hanging its despair
On the flag of the door
Without lighting torches
On the donkeys’ tails
To bring wrecks
Without shipwrecks
On the people’s tongues
Then the desperate sea – very high –
Bravo!Will come to break on Praia Grande
On its fat sinful arms
And the sea will come
In its luxury
In its grandeur
Showing its mast
On the heart’s rough seas
Its white map
Drawn on the soul
Will come to drink in my colonized tongue
All the history of my ultramarine blood
 
Oh when the morning breaks
And Christ descends from his dwelling
And comes
To the right arm of Monte Cara
With the handle of his hoe
And his drill shorts
Barefoot
With a split finger
And sits down
At our round cooking-stone
With no rain in his hand
No weakness in his blood
No crow in his heart
 
Oh when
Oh when the morning breaks