It's urgent-love.
It's urgent- a boat upon the sea.

It's urgent to destroy certain words,
hate, solitude, and cruelty,
some mornings,
many swords.

It's urgent to invent a joyfulness,
multiply kisses and cornfields,
discover roses and rivers
and glistening mornings- it's urgent.

Silence and an impure light fall upon our shoulders till they ache.
It's urgent- love, it's urgent
to endure.

Auteur: Eugénio de Andrade