there’s a savage light

there’s a savage light scanning my name
slowly going insane
within the humid gut of memory.
the voice’s space
expands until it reaches the unbreathable age of objects.
i sit watching the beach
how the water dreads coming too close
almost touching on questions.
my eyelids drain down to the nerves.
there is an unbearable coldness in the slide of time 
over the moulded plaster of each name,
and a feverish place, where intelligence manages to crumble away
at all the decipherable traces of life.
each name, in the inner stillness of its womb,
in the simmered blood of nights,
carries an unpronounceable
heavy light.
© Translated by Ana Hudson, 2013

 First Published on Poems From the Portuguese

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