Or someone who seeks the truth constantly through the mask, Sophia de Mello (Porto, 19-Lisboa, 2004), Camões prize in 1999, empty, says BEÑAT Sarasola, coordinator of World Poetry Notebooks: “Many of De Mello’s poems have this transcendental character. An epiphany emerges, that is, an immediate revelation of the world, and in this way it is possible to reach the most fundamental essence of the world. (…) Because, like Emily Dickinson, De Mello was not looking in distant places for the essence of the world, but a few hairs.”

The agile Sophia of Mello Breyner, of superior origin, recited Nau Catrineta at the age of three, and learned the romance in memory, and from there he may have begun to build his extensive work permanently and with a traditional musicality. He himself said that he had the obsession that every word was the poem he needed and that he was going against the relief theory after his poem: De Mello does not write in vain a word, but will bring it to the poem if necessary. “Words can’t be a courage, they don’t have to gain time to carry out the endecasyllary.”

Sophia de Mello therefore chooses this word and not that word, gives his poetry this particular tone and not another. So reading this kaiera is reading Yourcena, or Juana Inés de la Cruz, because it brings images forever: “Garden, lost garden/ My legs and arms surround your absence.../ The leaves are called your secret, and my love is silent as fear.” What makes Greece tremble now within the reader is the ellipsis and subtlety of Japanese taste, which the writer leaves without saying. Just as believers read a sacred text, so I entered into this secular poetry, written in their faith, in which they contrast the nature of words and the great realism of their meaning: “Even if they are ruins and death/ Always the end of all illusions,/ As the force of my dreams is the strongest force,/ Of all comes the desire to praise/ And my hands are never empty.” It can be naif in the area when it does so to historical social issues – The exile, the tomb of Lorca… – but only by the choice of words, even if only by color and classical freshness, it is worth making a hole and getting lost in the world of Mello.