Explore "The Infernal Powers" by Carlos Drummond de Andrade on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
My love flickers inside the marrow, while on the surface it has its night.
It opens its fair when darkness falls.
It's all hunger yet shuns gluttony.
Its scales of bile can't be removed, and in its gnashing there's no prayer.
It's woven by an unseen spider.
My love, paralyzed, suddenly jumps.
It bolts, it howls. Hello, sad wolf! After I've withered, it will be living: it lives without me. Whatever survives of what I am, distilled, exists in it.
My love is all that, dying, doesn't all die: in the air it lingers.