Poetry of Gonzalinho da Costa

You are the reflection on the pavement of a rainy day, Mirror of the sky painted briefly by shadows of a bustling world. Where is my ...

COFFEE What shall I say of coffee? He is a brown man Made from soil, Pressed into shape, Fired shiny, Waxen as a lizard, H...

FORT SANTIAGO To José Rizal I visited your cold, stone prison. Bereft of spirit, Empty of words. Your cell rang like footstep...