Como a Natureza soa
                                                         Pela água que aqui corre!
                                                         Gela-se a lagoa,
                                                         Passa o tempo e tudo morre.

                                                         Tudo menos tu
                                                         Que nos gritas do vazio.
                                                         Onde passas dás o nu,
                                                         Calas, matas, dás o frio.

                                                         Morte, que és o meu tormento,
                                                         Sempre Inverno quem te dera...
                                                         Mas a vida cessa o vento,
                                                         Faz do Nada, Primavera...

                                                                                                     João Rio