Gustavo Cunha

English poem IV

Untouched the past returns.

 

Nothing but gloom and discord doth it bring.

 

Twas thus blindfolded I thought upon a day far bygone and wailed.

 

Nothing but gloom and discord doth it bring.

 

Those days the shudders give me.

 

My entire life breathed on the glass.

 

Nothing but murk nevertheless.