Dream in a ship, a beach, eyes dry like stones
Movie posters enrich its decoration and book covers. With its architecture inspired by colonial Brazil, the Mercearia São Pedro https://www.facebook.com/saopedromercearia/ is always full. At night, you can be sure of finding people who like to talk about literature and cinema here. Inside a relaxing and comfortable atmosphere, its nightly soundtrack is composed of jazz music. Nothing better to read about Cecília Meireles, along with whomever you want.
Known as a poet, she gave original contributions in the field of chronicle, children’s literature and folklore. Writer and poet, teacher, journalist and painter, with 50 published works Cecilia Meireles was an excellent female voice in Brazilian literature. She participated in a Catholic literary group, inheriting from this experience the spiritualistic tendency that you can perceive in her works.
Living in the shadow of modernism, her work was full of Classicism, Romanticism and Surrealism. Her father had died a few months before her birth, and her mother when she was almost 3 years old, that’s why Cecilia Meireles https://www.culturagenial.com/poemas-cecilia-meireles/ was brought up by her grandmother Jacinta, starting to write poetry at the age of nine. She studied in Rio de Janeiro, where she published her first book of poetry at the age of eighteen. She married a Portuguese painter who committed suicide. Cecilia Meireles remarried with an agronomist engineer and became a famous journalist, also founding the first children’s library in her city. Using assonance and rhyme, she had a great knowledge of childish poetry. Her childhood poems incorporated different levels of reading, thus becoming readable to a wide audience.
DO NOT LOOK THERE– Do not look there. What is it, is you. It is in you. In all. The drop was in the cloud. In the sap. In the blood. In the ground. And in the river that opened in the sea. And in the sea that has coagulated in the world. You had a destiny like that. Made in the image of the sea. Be thirsty for the beaches. Go to the blue mouth of the sky. But you flee to the ground again. But don’t touch the stars. Come back to you again. Take back.
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