#17 - DISCORD IN CHILDHOOD, D. H. Lawrence

Outside the house an ash-tree hung its terrible whips,

And at night when the wind rose, the lash of the tree

Shrieked and slashed the wind, as a ship's

Weird rigging in a storm shrieks hideously.

Within the house two voices arouse, a slender lash

Whistling she-delirious rage, and the dreadful sound

Of a male thong booming and bruising, until it had drowned

The other voice in a silence of blood, 'neath the noise of the ash.

#16 - NOCTURNO, Sidónio Muralha

Um candeeiro.
Um recanto qualquer.
O pesadelo duma noite sem fim.


Um corpo de mulher
para quem chegar primeiro,


-- como se fosse um banco de jardim.