ISSN 2359-4101

Brazilian Literature in Translation / Literatura Brasileña en Traducción

Issue / Numero

year/año: 2012
issue/numero: # 05



Poems


Author | Autor: Carlito Azevedo


Translated by Sarah Rebecca Kersley

EMBLEMS (extract)

An immigrant
takes photos sprawled
against the awning
of a newstand
the crowd screams
outside the Bank
a Malabar appears
a shepherd appears
images of utter
disconnection
the mountains appear
lilacs from the Caucasus
but in the photo sought
there’s just the image
of the little girl
with her rabbit
soft toy
its folds
rust-colored
against the light

ON DOORS

“Passing through populous cities
(as said Walt Whitman, translated by Konrad Tom)”
CZESLAW MILOSZ

When this Goya-like world
(as said Lawrence Ferlinghetti, translated by Leminski)
dissolves who knows what impure matter from the thickest depths
of its incandescent centre, then lifts itself, slamming them, the iron doors,
against our faces and democratic pretensions, not one cloud will fail to fall
from the sky like a rainbowed snake of gas, not one star will fail

to trace a gesture of retention of its own light, but all
we see, all we are able to see behind
our humble post-metaphysical desk, is the hesitation
of the plumber and the panther at the parallel
doors, displacing each other in the game
of nightclub mirrors with their
seraphic arrows of Ladies
and of Gentlemen.

THE BOXING ANGEL TRIES TO DESCRIBE A SCENE


1.

A young man makes circles
with the smoke from his cigarette
and is lying
on the floor
reading a book

Opposite him is another young man
also making circles with the smoke from his cigarette
and also lying
on the floor
reading a book

The first man has his knees bent upwards
and between his knees
in the air
he holds the front wheel of a bicycle

The second man also has his knees bent upwards
and between his knees
in the air
he holds the back wheel of a bicycle

While microscopic life
revolves however it can
according to its own laws
the two young men
continue to read
and make circles
with the smoke

from their cigarettes
which nonetheless
hardly disguises
the not small effort
of holding a bicycle
between their knees

2.

Even more so because
sitting on the bicycle
suspended in the air
pedalling
overcome with enthusiasm
is a girl
aged eight
running away from home
with all her simplicity
and all her delight
running away from home
with all her sex
and all the tomorrows
running away from home
with all her strength
and all the mountains

3.

Here we add
that the room in which
this scene occurs is entirely black
with the thick bituminous darkness
of tar
giving the smoke circles
produced by the two young men
lying there
a luminous effect
not as luminous
however
as the face
of the girl
who whilst
overcome with frenetic
enthusiasm
pedals
and talks
without stopping
pedals
in standstill
and without stopping

4.

At this moment
the boxing angel
stops describing
the scene he
is watching
and thinks that if something of us
survives to the end
of the line
with thought
a remote hypothesis
yes
but still a hypothesis
but still remote
then the boxing angel
promises himself
in this improbable
hypothesis
to use all
possibilities
of smuggling in
at the time of death
and into death
duping
the brainwash
of heaven
something
some
slightest
thing
of this girl
her smile
the colour of her eyes
the shape of
her little boots

LAKE

Sitting backwards
(like wings you think the afternoon
can fold and open) to the coppered dorsum
of the mountain and the copper mirrored in the lake,
the girl with the cat translates, to higher
than perfection,
the deep, invisible, subterranean veins,
uniting us to those we love, and when he
stretches on her lap his pointed claws,
she, so as not to wake him, makes even
her gaze walk on tiptoes.





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