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Poetry

Ephemeral Invention

By Edival Lourenço
Translated from Portuguese by Eric M. B. Becker
Listen to Edival Lourenço read "Ephemeral Invention" in the original Brazilian Portuguese.
 
 

After Ferreira Gullar

It’s this body
through which I discern myself
a body made of flesh and desire
of limestone and fuel
of sap and ecstasy
of clay and wind
carbon fiber and shit.

This body
which, prone to dejection,
at times boasts
such grandeur
such nobility
a window onto my own illusions
that, as I walk the streets,
others anoint
with the same name
my mother gave me
the one the notary public
recorded in his notepad.

A body
—head torso and limbs
skin guts smiles and grimaces—
made entirely
of recycled goods
which my mother
even fifty-some years on
still recognizes
as the son begotten
of her amniotic sac
my father still nurturing
the blind certainty
that someday I
pulsed through him too
as my children look to me
and grasp after
absolute truths.
A body that soon
in its congenital inconstancy
will be powerless to impede
my essence from escaping
like the treetops
of poplars
stretching toward their final days.

© Edival Lourenço. By arrangement with the author. Translation © 2016 Eric M. B. Becker.

English Portuguese (Original)

After Ferreira Gullar

It’s this body
through which I discern myself
a body made of flesh and desire
of limestone and fuel
of sap and ecstasy
of clay and wind
carbon fiber and shit.

This body
which, prone to dejection,
at times boasts
such grandeur
such nobility
a window onto my own illusions
that, as I walk the streets,
others anoint
with the same name
my mother gave me
the one the notary public
recorded in his notepad.

A body
—head torso and limbs
skin guts smiles and grimaces—
made entirely
of recycled goods
which my mother
even fifty-some years on
still recognizes
as the son begotten
of her amniotic sac
my father still nurturing
the blind certainty
that someday I
pulsed through him too
as my children look to me
and grasp after
absolute truths.
A body that soon
in its congenital inconstancy
will be powerless to impede
my essence from escaping
like the treetops
of poplars
stretching toward their final days.

© Edival Lourenço. By arrangement with the author. Translation © 2016 Eric M. B. Becker.

Invenção Efêmera

Este corpo
que nele me afiguro
e firmo minha existência
corpo feito de carne e de fome
de calcário e azeite
de seiva e delírio
de argila e sopro
de fibra de carbono e bosta.

Este corpo,
que não raro se deprime
e às vezes se arvora
de o suprassumo
de o fino da bossa
vitrine das próprias ilusões
que ao passar na rua
as pessoas consagram
com o mesmo nome
que minha mãe atribuiu
e o tabelião registrou
em seu bloco de notas.

Corpo
— cabeça tronco e membros —
pele vísceras sorriso e trejeitos —
que é todo ele
de material reciclado
e que minha mãe
mesmo 50 e tantos anos depois
continua reconhecendo
como o engendro que derivou
de seu embornal uterino
meu pai alimenta
uma cega certeza
de que algum dia já tenha
transitado em seus dutos
e meus filhos contemplam
sustentando crenças
absolutas.
Corpo que em breve
na sua inconstância
congênita não impedirá
que a essência se escape
feito os sumos das folhas
de álamo
já em fase senescente.

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