Witness of the Past
We were seven and went to sleep, every night,
always at the same time.
Father, mother, three sons and two daughters.
Then, from open doors of the rooms, beginning
by the eldest to the youngest and one at a time,
the full darkness always heard a familiar ballad
being sung - your blessing, dad; your blessing, mom.
So, permeating the corridors came in one by one:
Then, aloud and in bed, they joined in prayers,
what worked as singular lullaby to put us asleep.
At dawn, father awakened us from the backyard
with his axe, by cracking firewood for the stove.
He was a scholar, but fond of the old manners.
Indeed a grave and serious a man, never failed
when we asked for a good companion.
He and mother formed so peculiar a couple,
father the newest of a thirteen-brother clan
and mother the eldest of ten; a contrast that,
it seems, joined them forever.
Her jewels, so she called them, a delicate watch
and a wedding ring were quite enough to hold
blessed and blissful a union.
We lived by the simplest lifestyle, no refrigerator,
gas stove, or electricity.
Mother ironed clothes by an old charcoal fired iron,
cooked tasty lunches in a smoky kitchen and made
the finest suits in a hand-crank sewing machine.
You must believe that there are saints.
By that time, two of them lived with us.
Published in Creative Talents Unleashed, Featured Writer, March 18, 2017
A Brazilian poet, Mr. Ferreira, 73, writes in English rather than Portuguese. Largely published in Literary Journals, he began his literary life at age 67. Ferreira lives in a small town (Formiga – MG), with wife, three sons and a granddaughter. His first Poetry Book, “Lonely Sailor”, is scheduled for publication in 2018 by Olympia Publishers, London, UK. Has been nominated for The Pushcart Prize 2016.