They've let me walk with you
As far as this high wall. The placid smiles
Of our new friends, the old incurables,
Pursue us lovingly.
Their boyish, suntanned heads,
Their ancient arms
Outstretched, belong to you.
Although your head still burns
Your hands remember me.
Ian Hamilton, Cinquenta Poemas, Nuno Vidal (Trad.), Livros Cotovia, 1995.
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