Tongue of Fire

It was late, really late.

It was night, a shadowy night,

And the south wind was punishing

The tomb where lied

Poets’ vanity.

At the time when your warm tongue

Touched my ear,

Your heavenly breath made

My frozen vanity live again

Then the Tongue of Ice

Was turned into fire

And poetry was reborn

From ivory,

Not ashes.

Evan do Carmo