February 03, 2004
The stars have a filament of blood

a random Brazilian person posted a poem in Portuguese to my fotolog today, which led me to babelfish for the first time in a while. Herewith, the translation:

The stars have a filament of blood grasped to the body of the Land. Capillarity of the memory. The land pulls out of the soil trees and astros. It thinks and it loves. To think is to astralizar the physical light. To love is to corrupt the forms of the day. Exilá-Ias of night in the sky. The stars are the imperceptible remaining portion of the blood of the land. Ideias that lives. The substance thinks. The Land when it sleeps frees celestial twinkles. The man in turn unfastens dreams. The land is the stream bed where the sick man if lies down. White handkerchiefs go up of its body. Each corpse frees the fIutuação of one tenuíssimo hemp cloth. Let us leave to die us. Reclineed against the land grown dark by the death and the love the insensitive palpitation of a sun goes up of us. It is therefore that the stars are in the land what of us in air if evola. They are livened up of sensible life in the purest abstracção of the forms. To the being the memory of a body we will be in the Universe the substance to estelar. Fogos, luminous, inconformes.

Posted by dbrown at February 03, 2004 02:16 PM
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