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| Maria da Conceição Lima | ||||||||||||||||
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| “Residence” You will return along the old hillside without warning. It will be like yesterday, at nightfall: remote, sudden, the whistle. And on the way, a festive sob is spilt. The light will be humid the rain intimate over the mark of your feet. Finger by finger, leaf by leaf you will touch the smells the witchcraft of the garden – grandmother’s dwarf lemon-tree the decrepit breadfruit tree the most shady oca plant the gnarled kimi and at the entrance, engraved in the clay, the ghost of the white billy-goat. The stair will creak at your first step. You will climb slowly, concrete Without treading on the loose floorboard. The door will be open, the torch lit. from O útero da casa [The womb of the home] |
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| b. 1961 S. Tomé e Príncipe | ||||||||||||||||
| © Instituto Camões, 2007 | ||||||||||||||||