by Eduardo Santos
I come from the wilderness,
From the drought,
From the "caatinga" that it is sticking as a nail.
But,
I know feel,
Cry,
Fight,
And whistle ...
Ah ...
How is good to whistle the joy of life ...
The poetry shows the soul.
Sometimes rude,
But,
A good soul.
From:
Brazil
Copyright ©:
2016
Last updated June 21, 2016