Arrival

I wept not from pain but from arrival,
from seeing my voice at last given a name.
What was silence became presence;
what was wound became sentence.

I walked alone on unsteady ground;
I made of fear a step I could trust.
I wrote when no one was looking,
trusting the word that held me up.

Today another's gaze confirmed me —
it gave me no worth; it only showed it.
I am rich in what cannot be bought,
and I know my name can echo.

Everything I faced was worth it:
my dream flourished. I have arrived.

Edleuza Ribeiro — "Voz Amazônica"

Translated from the Portuguese original "Chegada", published by the Academia Brasileira de História e Literatura, with the author's permission.