Poem: Azul Celeste

I saw them both, I did. Sitting on a bench, watching the world go by. The talk of the town they were, no matter what time or what day. Seeing as I had nowhere to hurry–nowhere to be in particular–I decided to write down what I saw. I looked up through the trees, past all the branches and leaves, and started writing:


Azul Marinho Turquesa Petróleo Celeste, by her full name.

Azul Celeste to those who speak of her fame, as they often do. 

Infinitely patient, with all the time to herself, she watches and waits alone.

Her eyes, bluest and brightest in the world, see all but search only for one.

Hair unfurled, Azul Celeste waits through the nights and through the mornings.

Mourning her time alonesearching only for one. 


Rosa Amarelo Vermelho Alaranjado Sol. Ruivo Rosa, to all. 

A fiery free-willed soul, with no time for games and attractions.

Her flaming hair wild and free, much alike herself.  

She comes and goes as she pleases, without any distractions.

Seeing her glowing beauty, luminous and burning bright, it is no wonder then,

Trying to comprehend her only duty, to come and leave with the light soon again. 


Yes, Azul Celeste and Red-haired Rosa; those were the two I saw. A painful experience for a hopeless old romantic like me; for they were so close a million times, the two of them. Worry not dear friend, as this is not the end of the story:


Summer comes. 

Azul Celeste, so somber and sorrowful still, the world is her home all alone. 

Her blue eyes see what she so desires, Ruivo Rosa, on the first morning of Summer.

As free as her flowing fiery hair, so is Rosa, free of her burdens and without a care.

Shining her radiant light forever, throughout the Summer night.

Finally, Azul Celeste can take her hand. Azul and Rosain silence–shining.

So they fall together, in embrace, onto the soft bed of the cloudless horizon.


And so they finally found each other; Azul Celeste and Red-haired Rosa. A fine ending to a story, don’t you think? At least it warms my old heart. And yes, this is only what I saw o preto no branco. Maybe others will write other kinds of stories about the two of them. Now it is time to go, friend. Adeus.





Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: