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Poetry

One day, picking guavas with the girl,
she lowered the branch and said to the air
—unaware that she was teaching me—
Guava is a blessed fruit.
Her movement, her illuminated face
agitated the dust and spirit in the air:
The Kingdom is within us;
God dwells in us.
There is no escaping the hunger of joy.


Translated from the Portuguese by Jessica Goudeau


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