Edvaldo Silva

In the dark depths of a bar full of flies
Checkered shirt outside the loose and dull pants
Beard smeared with milk dripping from his mouth
And the drool from other days marked on his clothes
Trembling, he held his gray-handled mug
Walking slowly towards the exit
Another day begins or just another one that fades away
By the man named Edvaldo Silva

He doesn't know the meaning of affection and love
He doesn't know the pollen, the rose petals, only the flower's thorn
Memories of life only in childhood marked with trauma and pain
Still the memory of the loveless animal father
Who had no profession and for a long time did tricks
Went out with men or women to have something to eat
Sold flour, marijuana, his body to whoever wanted
Everything inside the house for the family to see

Edvaldo Silva grew up
Locked in a room with his mother Vilma
With the cradle behind the curtain, he heard everything that happened
His father with other girls, his mother also served him
All night long, loud music, drugs, and drinks
For eight years, the father locked the room and left with the key
In search of new clients who wanted drugs, his body, or Vilma's
The boy would join in when he turned ten years old
Many clients sought pedophilia

For a long time, Mrs. Vilma tried to escape with Edvaldo Silva
She always knew that was not a future for her family
So, on a beautiful Sunday, she fled with the boy and went to the police
She confided in the detective who conducted the investigation
Oh! Sir, you have to help me
My son Edvaldo lives where a child cannot be
Private imprisonment, prostitution, and trafficking at home
And if my husband sees me here, he will kill me

The boy's father was already expecting this
So he waited for the police to arrive as soon as possible
He put the family portrait on the wall and bought a toy for the son
Left the house tidy, fridge full, and a gift in the cradle
Waited for the family on the sofa holding a rosary
When the detective arrived, he investigated the case and stayed in that room for hours
Looking for a specific object or something close to being evidence
He found nothing on the bed, nor in the new neighborhood
Not even a forged clue, a stupid clue

Mrs. Vilma was insecure, she knew her husband since the first kiss
Regretted naming the son the same way
She was sure her safety would be infinite if he were arrested
She knew he was cold, unpredictable to point the finger
The woman was disillusioned, cried like a river, entered into despair
She seemed in shock, waiting for death, even talking to the mirror
She shouted loudly at the window that it was a cell and her son was imprisoned
She was on the brink of madness, all out of fear

The boy Edvaldo's father acted in the shadows, leaving no warning
Seeing Vilma's actions, he was opportunistic, right, and precise
He testified to the police and proved that Vilma was out of her mind
She had symptoms of madness, so he sent her to the asylum
But she even thought it was better that way, she couldn't sleep with the enemy by her side
But before being interned, she took the son and sent him to another state
Any city far away, the street is safer than that room
She didn't know the next time she would see him, but it was signed

This is the only memory that Edvaldo Silva has
Twenty-seven years have passed since the last time he was in São Paulo
Nowadays, he lives on a sidewalk begging for food and being ashamed
Now he's just another condemned beggar
Leisurely drinks all the milk and keeps the gray-handled mug
Puts it in the bag, where he carries the blanket and three tangerines
He never asked to come into the world, but since he's here, he stays
And so the years go by for Edvaldo Silva

In the bag, he finds a paper he kept when he was in the bar full of flies
He remembers this leaflet when he received it from a girl's hand
With the leaflet, he gets emotional seeing people holding hands and smiling happily
If he had a friend, life would be good
Edvaldo wonders who the girl was
And why she would care to give a leaflet
To a dirty, smelly beggar living on a sidewalk
He thought it might be a mistake
But to be mistaken by a guy who stinks of carrion
Edvaldo kept the leaflet and continued his path

Daily, he climbs the stairway to the last step, as if it were a job
Sits and rests the bag, unbuttons his shirt, and takes off his shoe
From above, he looks at the asphalt and all the hustle of people in cars
So the day passes faster, like a shortcut
He stays up there counting the station bell ringing several times
Train arriving, departing, the same people passing like customers
He becomes almost invisible, if not for the disdain of many of them
Edvaldo cries inside for months

Who are these beings looking me in the eye?
They pretend they didn't see me to avoid wiping my tears
I am the landscape, worse than a slap in the face
Believe me, a human being is this body
I am ashamed of my misery, the torture that is hunger
It feeds on dark skin and yellow skin, but poor skin
Like a strong blow, three tips of a whip
That invades the flesh with a cut

Those who pass by and kick me
Probably raised in a cell
Like animals in a condominium where the window
Has bars to protect themselves from the slum
I am wounded, there's a bully throwing stones at me
Some have a lot of money and are called rich
Others sleep in the mud and are mistaken for trash
Human being is this, believe me, it's not an animal
In the end, it rots with or without a badge

It's getting dark, but it's still early
Edvaldo feels hungry and it hasn't been long
So he takes a tangerine and peels it with his fingers
Throws the peel on the ground, near a leaflet
He is surprised when he sees the same leaflet he has thrown in a gap
Then he stands up with the bag and goes over the stairway
He takes what he had saved and compares it with the other
And sees that they are the same, without exception

Edvaldo gets emotional again with the image of the illustration
Believes that if that place existed, it would be his solution
And suddenly Edvaldo is amazed by so many leaflets scattered on the ground
And ahead, the same girl handing them out at the door of a hall
And to whom she delivered, she warned of a meeting
That was today, at seven in the evening with the theme of salvation
Edvaldo keeps walking, quickens his pace, and goes towards
The girl who invites him in and takes him by the hand