Kind of Love

There was once a summer,

lost in the folds of time,

where, no one knows,

has existed happiness.

It has appeared only for us,

nobody else’s.

Never affected by daily hardships,

always shielded from the world’s rust,

it has remained in our hearts

and we know it will not disappear,

even by the collapse of our bodies.

Nothing can end such a love,

born in hot winds, baptized

in fresh rain and crowned,

as blessed by the skies,

by stunning and mystical lightning.


Published in Free Lit Magazine, January 23, 2018, The Bildungsroman issue.


Still Alive

Although many of you pushed me down,

saddening my soul and planning to bury

hopes and desires for a better world;

although the profusion of fallen angels,

that should inhabit other worlds than ours,

wandering mute and hidden in malicious works;

although the silence of the honest and righteous

and the audacity of the insolents;

although precious my soul dwells in fragile a body;

I am still alive walking along dear fellow ones,

amorous brothers and sisters,

towards desired and promised a new land.

Earthly Love

I know there is a final day for my life on earth.

I have striven to earn the prize of the righteous,

which is, after death, living in the Paradise.

But, oh my God, I love so much this planet

You granted to us from so earliest ages!

I love every sunrise, every new day calling me

to join forces to open new work fronts.

I love that scarlet red sunset that announces

the early evening, enchanting and bewitching

haunted nights always full of beautiful women,

loving sisters of our race, only found here,

nowhere else.

I learned to love hard and harsh the way

we were condemned to gain our bread,

since the disobedience of our forefathers.

I think I will never be able to say goodbye

to this homeland, mine and of all of us.

Perhaps, if I come to deserve an eternal life,

may You leave me here, enchanted as an elf

or a fairy, forever feeling its brown ochre scent,

among sinful, yet amorous brothers and sisters.


Published in Indiana Voice Journal, March-April 2018 issue.

How much

How much longer must we hope

for a life free of the devil’s seed

and of the fallen angels’ malice?

For a faith that everything remains

on inflexible plans of a Holy Spirit?

For a love that goes beyond barriers

between countries, creeds and races;

including whites, negroes and browns,

elderly and young, men and women?

How much longer we continue to disregard

invisible motionless cloud overlapping us,

which, at due time rewards and punishes

all sons of amorous yet stern our Creator?


Fear of people who have no fear of God.

Fear of them awind for all beauties overspread around.

Fear of the evil omens that torment and dwell in the minds

of those born without faith.

Fear of those who forget we are a masterpiece coined

by the sixth day in the divine journey of creation, and,

pleased for us, the Creator rested on the seventh one.

Fear for those who don’t believe our life on earth consists

in sacred and saint a pilgrimage that leads us, sure and safe,

to long dreamed and promised a new land.

Fear that these pure and simple truths cease to dwell

in the hearts of loving brothers and sisters.

Journeying On Earth

We constitute a family and build our houses,

set up enterprises, give people jobs and hopes.

We plant vines, bridges and ports,

raise sheep and sons.

We throw up rails and roads, farms and cities,

churches, cathedrals and skyscrapers.

We spread life all around,

as if this world was ours.

We plan our lives every day, for months

and years ahead, faithfully dreaming,

although fully aware that God, in spite

of having made us in his likeness,

has not given us neither eternal life,

nor his full sapience.

This is our fate, since we have been created.

However, with sole and specific a love,

and steadfast a faith,

we have been able to move forward heavy

and hard wheels of time, towards desired

and promised a new land.


This poem and all others at this blog, authored by Edilson Afonso Ferreira ©


Who watches over my sleep?

Who prevents me from falling on the bottomless cliffs?

Who keeps beating my cold and disconsolate heart,

after its daily hardships, usual unavoidable clashes?

Who enlightens my spirit, shielding it from the world’s rust?

Who embraces my soul, caresses and puts her to rest,

sovereign and survivor from the evil-wants of life?

Who breathes on me a new life when I wake up and says –

_ This world is yours again, I kept it for you _

work, pursue treasures and fame, play, laugh, love and sing!

It is my Lord, since the beginning of my days,

always backing me, so weak a vassal, to fulfill,

among dear fellow ones, my mission on Earth.