Let’s talk about houses, shrewd exercise of power
as solid and quiet as there was only
in the earliest time.
These are the architects, those who will die,
smiling with irony and tenderness in the background
from a top secret that carries them back to the mud.
With sweet blameless hands.
Over the months, dreaming about the previous rain,
houses find their innocent way of standing against
the subtle mouth surrounded by the darkness of the words.

H. Helder