that poem stuck in my head

I have had this song stuck on my head all day. And now it's your turn!

It was 12 degrees Celsius today. I was walking around in a t-shirt and a sweatshirt. I know for my Uruguayan counterparts, this may seem a bit extreme, but believe me, it's like fucking summer up in this bitch. Going from -12 to 12 is a big deal.

via jono winnel

Today I had a poetry class, and, while I find the class kind of boring and my professor a rambling old man, I really enjoy translating poetry. Today, we translated a poem, Maçã, by Manuel Bandeira. It goes like this:

Por um lado te vejo como um seio murcho
por outro como um ventre de cujo umbigo pende ainda o cord
ão placentário

És vermelha como o amor divino

Dentro de ti em peqenas pevides
Palpita a vida prodigiosa

E quedas t
ão simples
Ao lado de um talher
Num quarto pobre de hotel.

via coquelicot, asleep in the poppies
 And my translation is such:

Sometimes I see you like a wilted breast,
Others like a womb whose navel hangs from the umbilical chord

She’s crimson like love divine

Inside of you in small seeds
Palpitates a prodigious life

And you stand so simple
Next to utensils
In a vile and unkind hotel room.

I obviously changed some words, and some grammatical structures are not the same. For me, I immediately thought this poem was about abortion, which my professor was quick to point out that I was damn wrong. WTV, I still think it. It's kind of obvious, no?

"Murcho", I got wrong. I thought it meant 'singed', but it means rotten. For "pobre" I had to choose another word other than "poor" because that sounds idiotic. "Cheap" could be okay, but that word only captures the dingy, not the evil. Right? Right.

I also don't think prodigious is a pompous word.

Grr, homework.

No comments:

Post a Comment