I tie my Hat — I crease my Shawl —  Life's little duties do — precisely —  As the very least  Were infinite — to me —   I put new Blossoms in the Glass —  And throw the old — away —  I push a petal from my Gown  That anchored there — I weigh  The time 'twill be till six o'clock  I have so much to do —  And yet — Existence — some way back —  Stopped — struck — my ticking — through —  We cannot put Ourself away  As a completed Man  Or Woman — When the Errand's done  We came to Flesh — upon —  There may be — Miles on Miles of Nought —  Of Action — sicker far —  To simulate — is stinging work —  To cover what we are  From Science — and from Surgery —  Too Telescopic Eyes  To bear on us unshaded —  For their — sake — not for Ours —  'Twould start them —  We — could tremble —  But since we got a Bomb —  And held it in our Bosom —  Nay — Hold it — it is calm —   Therefore — we do life's labor —  Though life's Reward — be done —  With scrupulous exactness —  To hold...
de Cristina Fernandes e Rui Manuel Amaral