IPÊ

                                                                         Aquele roxo ipê,

                                                                       Qual ruidoso mineral,

                                                              Árvore vistosa para quem vê;

                                                                      É arte sacramental

                                                                                Belo girau

                                                                      Na elegância de ser!

                                                                     O viajante da colônia,

                                                                            Avista de longe

                                                                       A sua saldosa ruína,

                                                                 Feito flor roxa em meio da crina

                                                                           Horrendo monge

                                                                 Suspirando ao amanhecer.