Featured in the photograph, the writer Machado de Assis. Photograph of the collection of the National Library
Certainly you have never (or little) heard about this aspect of the greatest writer in our Brazilian literature, haven't you? When we think of Machado de Assis, we immediately associate his name with the classics "Memories Posthumous of Brás Cubas", "Dom Casmurro", "The hand and the glove", among other novels that are a must-read for lovers of our lyrics. Machado was also an incomparable storyteller, his classics "Missa do cock", "A cartomante", "Theory of the Medallion", "O alienista", among other pearls that only confirm his genius. You may not even know it, but Machado also wrote verses. It is true that the poet does not reach the feet of the preacher, but Machado de Assis' poetry exists and deserves your attention. As a poet, he published the books Crisálidas, 1864, Falenas, 1870, Americanas, 1875, and Poetry complete, 1901, all in the public domain, so knowing them depends only on your interest. Machado de Assis's poetic production still lacks readers and must be rediscovered, after all, it is the phenomenal “Bruxo do Cosme Velho”, and nothing he wrote should be neglected. For you to know the poet side of the greatest writer of Brazilian literature, Mundo Educação ed five poems by Machado de Assis for you to know and appreciate. Good reading! Carolina Honey, at the foot of the final bed As you rest that long life, Here I come and come, poor dear, Bring your partner's heart to you. That true affection pulses That, in spite of all the human deals, Made our existence desirable And in a corner he put the whole world. I bring you flowers - plucked debris the land that saw us pass together And now dead leave us and separate. That I, if I have bad eyes Thoughts of life formulated, They are thoughts gone and lived. To a lady who asked me for verses Think of yourself, you will find Best poetry, Lives, grace, joy, Sweetness and peace. If I ever gave flowers one day, As a boy, The ones I now give have a lot Melancholy. One of your hours Worth a month Of souls already parched. Suns and moons I believe that God made them For other lives.
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