My Poetry Corner March 2026 features an excerpt from the poem “City Foreseen / Cidade Prevista” from the 1945 poetry collection The People’s Rose / A Rosa do Povo by Brazilian poet, journalist, and literary critic Carlos Drummond de Andrade (1902-1987). All excerpts of poems cited below are from this collection.

Born in Itabira, in the Southeast State of Minas Gerais, the ninth child of a farmer, Drummond remains one of the most influential and beloved Brazilian poets of the twentieth century. He has left an extensive body of work of intellectual relevance and human value.

Drummond started his writing career in 1921 as a columnist for the Diário de Minas newspaper. Though he received a degree in pharmacy in 1925, he never practiced in the profession. After entering the public service in 1934, he was transferred to Rio de Janeiro where he worked in the Ministry of Education & Public Health until 1945. He then worked at the National Historical and Artistic Heritage Service of Brazil until his retirement in 1962.

Drummond died of coronary complications in Rio de Janeiro on August 17, 1987, ten days after the loss of his only daughter to cancer.

Published between 1940 and 1945, the featured poems reflect Drummond’s response to the destructive forces unleashed during World War II (1939-1945), arising from the ascension of authoritarian regimes. Cities are reduced to rubble. People are persecuted and forced from their homes. Within his own country, they face political repression and censorship under the authoritarian regime of the New State of Brazil (1937-1945).

In the 25-stanza poem “Vision 1944,” the poet expresses his incapacity to absorb the utter destruction and death unfolding on the frontlines of the war. The verse my eyes are too small to see echoes throughout the poem. Each verse also serves as a denouncement of the atrocities that dehumanize the populations under attack. The following excerpts are stanzas 3, 5, and 6:

My eyes are too small to see / the general with his gray overcoat / selecting a city on the map / that tomorrow will be dust and pus on the wire.

My eyes are too small to see / the transport of food crates, / of clothing, of medicine, of bandages / to a port in Italy where men go to die.

My eyes are too small to see / the sticky bodies of women / who once were beautiful—a kiss canceled / amidst the production of tanks and grenades.

In the final stanza, despite the darkness that engulfs the world, the poet expresses his hope for reconstruction and a new world:

My eyes are too small to see / the world that drains away in filth and blood, / and another world that sprouts, like a lotus / —yet they see, they marvel, they bow down, dazzled.

Since World War II, new autocracies have gained ascendence. Ignoring international humanitarian laws of warfare, the world’s most powerful nation has gone rogue in its forever wars of terror. In my Vision 2026, their eyes are too small to see their folly. Arrogance, callousness, greed, narcissism, nihilism, and lust for dominance blur their vision.

For Drummond, hope also rises from the ruins of Stalingrad with his vision of its reconstruction in the poem “Telegram from Moscow.” It’s an endeavor that will demand collective effort.

Stone by stone we will rebuild the city. / House and more houses will cover the ground. / Street and more street traffic will resurge. / […] Only a few trees remain, / scarred like soldiers. / The snow has fallen, covering the wounds. / The wind has swept away the harsh memory. / But the wonder, the legend / etches into the air the phantom of the old city, / which will permeate the body of the new. / Here it was called / —and will always be called—Stalingrad / —Stalingrad: Time answers.

May time answer for the cities leveled during our forever wars of terror: Aleppo, Gaza, Mosul, and many more.

In the excerpt of the featured poem “City Foreseen,” Drummond calls on all poets and people everywhere to dream and work towards creating a better city, a better country, a better world. Though he will not live to realize this dream, it is worth striving for. As I see it, we cannot achieve what cannot first be conceived in our minds.

Brothers, sing of this world
that I will not see, but will come
one day, within a thousand years,
perhaps more… I am in no hurry.

The city or world foreseen is one without repressive laws and violence—where there’s freedom of movement, harmony, shared beliefs, healthcare for all, equality, and richness in diversity.

A world finally in good order,
a homeland without borders,
without laws and regulations,
a land without flags,
without churches or barracks,
without pain, without fever, without gold,
a single way of living,
but in that way the variety,
all the multiplicity
that exists within each one.

It’s a wondrous city/country that welcomes strangers, where one is safe in their homes, and laughter fills the air.

A city without doors,
of houses without traps,
a country of laughter and splendor
like none that has ever existed.
This country is not mine
nor yours yet, poets.
But it will one day be
the country of every man.

What is hope if not the capacity to visualize a better world for ourselves, our loved ones, all of humanity, against all the odds? What are a thousand years for those who came before us and will come after us? The freedom to live, to be treated with equality and respect, and to have a place to call home should all be natural human rights.

Regeneration is the greatest gift of Mother Earth. With spring upon us, we are reminded of the glory and delight of this wondrous gift of rebirth. Hope lives.

To read the excerpt of the featured poem “City Foreseen / Cidade Prevista” in its original Portuguese, and to learn more about the work of Carlos Drummond de Andrade, go to my Poetry Corner March 2026.