THE FIFTH HELL

And I am going to go there

Before this reality

(Where I have lived)

Turns into a nightmare.

And this sky, so clear,

Is not what it means:

White, instead of peace,

Forgotten transmits.

Blue, instead of calm,

Dips a previous mourn;

And the sun, so brightful,

Hits me fooly, dully...

It's not still enough

To make me a statue

It just happen would

Whether my brain wash up...

Toward them, couturiers

Of all points of the plots

Which, in the darkness,

Composes people's leer.

There is still time,

But it is so hard

To avoid, to foresee

The end of this beginning:

“New black ship will flow

Through South Atlantic sea...”

“And it'll take all our gold

To the North of this sea...”

“An Old Era will begin again:

The managers will sell our land

To the North Metropolitan lords

And will lend money to rent it all..”

“Money, which will come from us,

New capitalist slave labours

(Independently of our skin tone),

Who will only get the bitter flavour..

In our mouth from the work we'll do...”

“Oh my God, I really do not want it”

“I do not want to live all into

This life I pre saw so much ugly:”

“Working and salary under taxes

Working and salary under interest

Working and salary under healthiness

Working and salary to get under life”.

I, urgently, want to go there,

To live how I am living now.

And I want to avoid this nightmare:

The Hell Living in a land, so tropical.

(Leandro Monteiro)