The letters become disordered in Tirry 81; the typewriter goes silent to wipe away her tears for a poet who no longer writes.
There remain then on the desk the good memories of many years and nights of sleeplessness that saw the birth of poems and sonnets. Here is the silence, submerged in the walls that for 96 years contemplated the blue sky that always defended and that from its birth was caught in the eyes of a woman who sang to the beautiful.
Today the road and the centennial mansion open their doors to the immortal. The imaginary and the real converge in the same point, that is, in the name of Carilda, which in more than one occasion was and will continue to be news. Words come and go, amazement takes many by surprise and it is difficult then that tears do not touch every citizen of this country.
Poetry shows pain, sings its requiem for a woman who loved her country so much, who wanted all this Island at her feet. The notebooks mourn the silence of her going away, while resisting the tedium of loneliness.
Her cats are left behind. The enigma of doors and windows that Olympus always kept with zeal; the muses that inspired the most controversial poems, all orphans due to her leaving.
Carilda has left in the silence of an early morning, from immortality to remain a poet and muse.