Alvaro de Campos

It’s before I take opium that my soul is sick.

I’m atoning for a crime in a suitcase
That my grandfather committed for fun.
My nerves hang from the gibbet by the dozen,
And I’ve fallen into the pit of opium.

If you’ve got the truth, you can keep it!

Nothing holds me.
I want fifty things at the same time.
I long with meat craving anxiety
For I don’t know what…

Don’t worry: they won’t cry for long.

You can be happy in Australia, as long as you don’t go there.