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World of Haiku: Poets of Brazil

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Author: Afrânio Peixoto
The ox eats the grass
And we eat the ox. God had no
Imagination.
Author: Guilherme de Almeida
Wash, rinse, shake
the sand. Finally, in the sieve
A nugget remains
Author: Érico Veríssimo
In the white snow
The rigid blue stain
Of the dead bird.
Author: Mário Quintana
A crystal glass
on the table
invents all the colors of the rainbow . . .
Author: Abel Silva Pereira
On the desert road,
a simple fall of leaves
broke the silence.
Author: Hidekazu Masuda Goga
Echo of thunder:
The downpour, suddenly,
brings the river up
Author: Waldomiro Siqueira, Jr.
In his tiny cell
he contemplated, pensively,
the flight of the fly
Author: Luís Antônio Pimentel
Moonlight in the fog.
Inside the dark hut
The creak of hammocks
Author: Primo Vieira
The light without pomp
languishes. The last swallow
crosses the afternoon sky . . .
Author: Martinho Bruning
Peaceful afternoon, the trees
calm: they expect us to walk
quietly among them.
Author: Millor Fernandes
look,
between one raindrop and another
the rain doesn´t wet
Author: Luiz Bacellar
Night of spawning.
The indiscreet moon shows
the route of the shoal
Author: Olga Savary
Between your sky
and mine
a soft whisper of wings
Author: José Carlos Capinam
A red traffic light
Fire and lipstick
Your mouth in the mirror
Author: Roberto Saito
In the light of the bonfire
an old man loses his wrinkles
as he tells his stories.
Author: Regina Alonso
Night vigil—
The dog’s eyes shine
by the fire
Author: Cláudio Feldman
The sparrow
hides from the cold
in the scarecrow’s pocket
Author: Álvaro Cardoso Gomes
Bamboo stalk:
a guitar that cries
in the wind
Author: Nelson Savioli
Suddenly—
thunder awakens fears
of my childhood.
Author: Teruko Oda
Creaking wheels—
It´s lost in the fog
the ox wagon
Author: Alice Ruiz
tea ceremony
three guests
and one mosquito
Author: Anibal Beça
Clothes hung up—
the flash of lightning
whitens the clothes line.
Author: José Marins
a gentle breeze
the soap bubble takes
colors from the garden
Author: Paulo Franchetti
Cold morning.
If I were a boy I’d write
My name on the glass.
Author: Rosa Clement
orange harvest
the passing train takes
the sweet scent
Author: Celso Pestana
white lily—
the first communion
of a shy boy.
Author: Zemaria Pinto
The afternoon dissolves
in the shout of macaws
and in flakes of lead
Author: Davidson Panis Kaseker-Dasso
musical agenda
gasping swallows
land briefly
Author: Edson Kenji Iura
Lively conversation . . .
On the porch, two beggars
under blankets.
Author: Ricardo Silvestrin
long conversation
one cricket stops
another starts
Author: Álvaro Posselt
Autumn moon—
The sleeping drunk in the park
is illuminated
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