Absence | Carlos Drummond de Andrade, 1902 – 1987



Carlos Drummond de Andrade

I used to consider absence a lack.
And I ignorantly regretted that lack.
Today I have nothing to regret.
There is no lack in absence.
Absence is a presence in me.
And I feel it, a perfect whiteness,
so close and cozy in my arms that I
laugh, dance, and invent glad exclamations,
since absence, this embodied absence,
can’t be taken away from me.

Carlos Drummond de Andrade, Absence, 1902 – 1987
tr. Mark Strand

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