Last year I mentioned to Maurício, who runs the Brazilian Arts Foundation, that there should be some kind of Brazilian or Portuguese-language literary event sometime. This past November he put me in touch with some like-minded folks, and this coming Sunday, February 25, we're having our first public reading of Brazilian poetry in translation and short fiction in English by a Brazilian writer, along with artist Tony Paraná discussing his work. If you're in Houston, come on by, check out some Brazilian literature, drink a Topo Chico. The fun starts at 4 PM and wraps up around 5:30.
One of the poems I've translated for the event is by João da Cruz e Sousa, who I believe was Brazil's first black poet. I initially ran across his name on a list of Symbolist poets on Wikipedia, and after reading a little more about him I hunted down his collected works. Not only is he a fascinating figure—the son of freed slaves, a polyglot, and an abolitionist—but his poetry is quite good, and his prose poetry (or whatever the proper name for it is, if it has one in Portuguese) seems far ahead of its time. I look forward to reading, and translating, more of his work, which I don't think has received any exposure in English.
Enjoy, and maybe I'll see you Sunday.
Vida
Obscura
João
da Cruz e Sousa
Ninguém
sentiu o teu espasmo obscuro,
ó
ser humilde entre os humildes sêres.
Embriagado,
tonto dos prazeres,
o
mundo para ti foi negro e duro.
Atravessaste
no silêncio escuro
a
vida prêsa a trágicos deveres
e
chegaste ao saber de altos saberes
tornando-te
mais simples e mais puro.
Ninguém
te viu o sentimento inquieto,
magoado,
oculto e aterrador, secreto,
que
o coração te apunhalou no mundo.
Mas
eu que sempre te segui os passos
sei
que cruz infernal prendeu-te os braços
e
o teu suspiro como foi profundo!
An
Obscure Life
Nobody
felt your dull spasms,
Oh
lowly among the lowly.
The
world, drunk and giddy with pleasure,
was
black and hard for you.
You
passed through in dark silence,
your
life chained to tragic duties
and
arrived at the highest wisdom
humbled
and purified.
Nobody
saw in you the uneasy feeling,
hurt,
hidden and terrifying, secret,
which
your heart pierced in the world.
But
I, who always followed in your steps,
know
what infernal cross bound your arms
and
how deeply you sighed!
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