The Writting And The Speak (English Version "A Fala e a Escrita") I spoke, I thought, I expressed myself, Words were pronoun, Voices weren’t heard. I analized, I looked, I felt, My way of thinking was locked, And my mistakes were exalted, In the sound of an ode and an anthem, Always in that rythm. By the touch of ten decasylabes, I suffered. By the touch of ten white rymes, I lived. And by the touch of ten defames, I died. I was striked in every point of exclamation, And misunderstood in every point of interrogation, With the comma I tranquilized myself, And with the dot I finalized, Another chapter on this story of divagation, With no explanation.