[sem título]
uma vez uma voz me disse
a sua poesia desce rasgada
parece caco de vidro
achei estranho
era um insulto ou um gracejo
aos meus estilhaços
que mal tem ter mãos escorregadias
que de vez em quando
quebram um prato
derramam uns verbos
derrubam um corpo
aí eu disse
bebe mais um gole
dessa cachaça deitada na mesa
e repete o que disse
agora com a garganta
ardendo um pouco mais.
[untitled]
a certain day a voice tells me
your poetry falls in hurt pieces
looks like a broken glass
I found this weird
it was an insult or praise
to my shrapnel
what is the matter with slippery hands
that time after time
break a plate
disperse some verbs
overthrow a body
here I said
drink another swig
of this cachaça put on the table
and I repeated my words
with the throat that burns
a little bit more than before.
Poem by Ana C Moura, translated by Christian Elguera
Selected by Ana Elisa Ribeiro
sujeição
lá vai o trem igual cobra
carrega pobres no lombo
lavai a roupa senhora
essa fuligem é de ontem
a vida passa e os pobres
sentem a dureza do jugo
sem ouro prata ou vitórias
o que lhes sobra
ferrugem
subjugation
there goes the train like a snake
carries poor people on its back
the clothes must be washed, old lady
that soot is from yesterday
life goes on and the wretched
feel the hardness of the yoke
without gold silver or victories
what they have in excess
corrosion
Poem by Líria Porto, translated by Christian Elguera
Selected by Ana Elisa Ribeiro
Líria Porto (Araguari, 1945) lives in the city of Araxá (Minas Gerais, Brazil). She has published numerous books and been a finalist for many Brazilian literary awards. Her most recent publication is Quem tem pena de passarinho é passarinho (Peirópolis, 2021).
Ana C Moura was born in 1988 and lives in the city of Uberlândia (Minas Gerais State, Brazil). She is a poet and one of the editors of Fazia Poesia, a platform that publishes contemporary writers.
Photo: Alameda Travessia-Funcionários, Belo Horizonte, Minas Gerais, Brazil. Luiz Felipe S.C., Unsplash.
