Clarice Lispector

The time that can return to my eyes the brightness of the joy, to my face a semblante of hope and to mine lips the smile of the victory. When I speak in victory, does not mean that I search to carry through material dreams. I already chose my dream. I want to contemplate the dawn, the put-do-sun, the flowers, the nature, want to contemplate them and to feel the love to enter in me. To perceive in the solitude of the nature oi felt for my life, thus also thought Werther: In more, I meet here perfectly well. The solitude in this true paradise is a balsam for my heart always fremente, each shrub forms a branch of flowers, and has will of transforming in them into bee to hang in this sea of perfumes and them to suck the food.

(p.14) I am in the text, the text I am in me, I I come of the universe, the universe I am in me, I I am in the other, the other I am in me. I am in many places, and for where step I go leaving my marks. I recognize that I am made of words, as all are, and therefore I leave marks. They are accurately these words torment that me now. Words that disclose, that they transform, that they recriam, that they distress, that they cheer in them. But to write on this is not easy, as Clarice Lispector in the Hour of the Star says: ' ' Not, it is not easy to write. He is hard as to break rocks. But sparks and chips fly as steel espelhados' ' (p.19) I feel myself lost and at the same time I find me when contemplating the life, the nature, taking a walk in the vacant of proper, in search of a reply. Glad reply that my life, therefore a said word transforms any life, any poetry.