My abstract ideas,
that I have touched so often, have become concrete:
they are familiar roses which time brings within reach,
roses which are there at the inauguration of new eras
in my thinking,
in what the world thinks about me and others;
of new eras, but nevertheless
which time has known, knows and shall know.
Roses! Roses!
If only there were abstract roses for me.

Murilo Monteiro Mendes