Alberto Estima de Oliveira — O Diálogo do Silêncio / The Dialogue of Silence 20

20


                                macau 22 horas


na noite amordaçada
cheia de luzes e nada
sobre montras de ilusão
fecham-se portas pesadas
onduladas
feitas de chapa de ferro

na rua estreita
cansada
abandonada de vida
soam passos de incerteza
pela ausente madrugada

nos olhos tristes
das casas
de sorrisos reduzidos
recortam-se silhuetas
nos postigos.


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20

                            macau 10 pm


in the muffled night
full of lights and nothingness
heavy corrugated gates
of sheet iron
close
over illusory storefronts

in the narrow street
tired
devoid of life
the sound of uncertain footsteps
through the absent dawn

in the sad eyes
of the houses
with diminished smiles
silhouettes stand out
through the peepholes.

Alberto Estima de Oliveira — O Diálogo do Silêncio / The Dialogue of Silence 19

I banged this one out really fast, and I'm fairly happy with it. I really like prose poetry, so this was a treat to read and translate.

The typesetting in the Portuguese original is weird; the line breaks aren't natural on the page, so I recreated it as it appears. I didn't bother doing that with the English version.



19


falava-se de mistérios na casa antiga entre sorrisos e
música gravada.
um jacto de luz iluminava a pequena palmeira confi-
dente das palavras.
o telefone negro gritava a sua presença ávido de notí-
cias.
no tecto, em girândola, as pás de ventoinha desenha-
vam círculos.
era madrugada.
uma certa disponibilidade soltava-se das mãos, ocu-
padas na lenta combustão dos cigarros. os copos re-
flectiam-se no lago da mesa articulando o interior dos
sons, rebuscando no tempo a intimidade dos sentidos.
nos rostos insinuavam-se conflitos controlados.

a viagem existe, o navio ancorado nas colunas da
mente espera o grito da largada.

no cais enorme soltam-se os passos do timoneiro.
tensas mantêm-se as amarras.


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19


there was talk of mysteries in the old house, among
smiles and recorded music.
a spray of light illuminated the little palm tree,
sure of its words.
the black telephone shouted its presence, eager
with news.
on the ceiling, pinwheeling, the fan blades
drew circles.
it was dawn.
a certain willingness leapt from our hands, busy
with the slow lighting of cigarettes. the cups
reflected in the lake of the tabletop articulated
the interior of sounds, digging through time for
the intimacy of feelings.
our faces suggested controlled conflicts.

the voyage exists, the ship anchored to the columns
of the mind, awaiting the call for departure.

the helmsman's footsteps are aimless on the huge pier.
the mooring lines remain taut.

Alberto Estima de Oliveira — O Diálogo do Silêncio / The Dialogue of Silence 18

Jesus, I'm not happy with how this translation turned out. It might not be so bad if I liked the original more; maybe I don't understand it, but I don't like the way it shifts gears. I also had a hard time deciding to go with "being" or "standing" for "estando," since English doesn't have a word that encapsulates both meanings like Portuguese does.

Fuck it. This'll have to do for now.

DAS

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18


por vezes acontece-me o silêncio
e nesse nada haver afasto-me de mim

então surpreendo-me no espanto
de não estar

não estando    vou indo
na tal berma
as margens do caminho

esvoaço
geralmente ao entardecer
na claridade da noite

caminho sempre

a primavera existe
no mais profundo inverno

há um frio interior
que se transforma
com o calor do sangue

(rosas vermelhas)


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18

at times silence befalls me
and in that nothingness    i have to run from myself

then i am amazed by the wonder
of non-being

not being    i'm off
along a certain edge
of the roadside

i drift along
usually at dusk
in the brightness of the night

always wandering

springtime exists
in the deepest winter

there is an inner cold
that becomes
with the warmth of blood

(red roses)