It is always in the past that orgasm,
it is always in the present that double,
it is always in the future that panic.
It is always in my chest that grip.
It is always in my tedium that gesture.
It is always in my sleep that war.
It is always in my treating a great mistreating.
Always in my strength the old fury.
Always in an equal mistake another picture.
It is always in my leaps the limit.
It is always on my lips the seal.
It is always in my refusal that trauma.
Always in my love the night breaks.
Always inside me my enemy.
And always in my always the same absence.
Original poem: 'O enterrado vivo', by Carlos Drummond de Andrade
In: 'Fazendeiro do Ar', 1954