The Shoulders Bear the Weight of the World

 (poema traduzido)

It comes a time when one does no longer say: my God.

Time of absolute refinement.

Time when one does no longer say: my love.

Because love turned out to be useless.

And the eyes no longer cry.

And the hands just weave the rude labour.

And the heart is dry.

Women knock at your door in vain, you will not open.

You were left alone, the light went out,

But in the gloom your eyes blaze enormously.

You are pure conviction, you no longer know how to suffer.

And you expect nothing from your friends.

The coming of old age does not matter, for what is old age?

Your shoulders bear the weight of the world

And it is no heavier than the hand of a child.

The wars, the hungers, the arguments inside the buildings

Prove only that life goes on

And not everyone has freed himself yet.

Some, considering it to be a savage parade,

Would choose (the delicate) to die.

A time has come when death is not enough.

A time has come when life is but an order.

Life only, without illusion.

- Carlos Drummond de Andrade