Love

What can a creature than,
Among creatures, love?
Loving and forgetting,
Love and malama,
Amar, unloved, love?
Always, and even glassy-eyed, love?

[...]

This is our destiny: love and again,
Distributed by things or none perfidious,
Unlimited donations to a complete ingratitude,
And in the empty shell of love looking fearful,
Patient, and more love too.

[...]

Carlos Drummond de Andrade