A poetry that fills the soul
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Essas grandes sombras das árvores que se estendem pela planície; essas gradações infinitas da luz pelas quebradas da montanha; esses raios perdidos, que, esvazando-se pelo rendado da folhagem, vão brincar um momento sobre a areia; tudo respira uma poesia imensa que enche a alma.
Those great tree-shadows stretching over the plain; those infinite gradations of light down the ravines of the mountain; those lost rays that, seeping through the lacework of the foliage, go to play a moment on the sand — all breathes an immense poetry that fills the soul.
Those great tree-shadows stretching over the plain; those infinite gradations of light down the ravines of the mountain; those lost rays that, seeping through the lacework of the foliage, go to play a moment on the sand — all breathes an immense poetry that fills the soul.
A single long sentence in three beats, ending on the soul — Alencar's Romantic credo: the wild land is not empty but full of poetry, a spiritual presence. This is the aesthetic manifesto at the heart of the book.
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