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BLINDNESS
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for Marcus Margrave
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I noticed my blindness bit by bit,
when I looked at landscapes and forgot to see,
while at night the letters turned into people
and upon them I lay, unable
to read their face or their exact blood
I must have gone blind slowly, perhaps after
that January when I filled my head with lingering calculations
on the distance and the size
of pain
things were all around me and I smelled them,
I could touch them,
I sensed the keen outline
of their nails, yet without distinguishing them
clearly
I looked at the long rows of poplars crossing
the horizon, I looked at the birds
with their plier-grip upon the light, yet saw nothing:
letters broke with fever across foreheads
and I did not know how to kiss their name
or their laughter
I was going blind
and that much was certain: without my knowing it, dear friend,
I was dying
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Poem by João Ricardo Lopes | Translated by Marcus Margrave (2026)
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