Test
Download document

BANDEIRA, Manuel


ANTHOLOGY

Life

Is not worth the trouble and grief of being lived.

Bodies understand each other, but souls, no.

The only thing to do is to play an Argentine tango.

I'm going away to Pasárgada!

I am not happy here.

I want to forget it all:

— The grief of being a man. . .

This infinite and vain anxiety

To possess what possesses me.

I want to rest

Thinking humbly about life and women I loved . . .

About all the life that could have been and wasn't.

I want to rest.

To die.

To die, body and soul.

Completely.

(Every morning the airport across the way gives me lessons

in departure.)

When the Undesired-of-all arrives,

She will find the field plowed, the house clean,

The table set,

With everything in its place.

Translated by Jean R. Longland



BALADA DAS TRÊS MULHERES DO SABONETE ARAXÁ

As três mulheres do sabonete Araxá me invocam, me bouleversam, me hipnotizam.

Oh, as três mulheres do sabonete Araxá às 4 horas da tarde!

O meu reino pelas três mulheres do sabonete Araxá!

Que outros, não eu, a pedra cortem

Para brutais vos adorarem,

Ó brancaranas azedas,

Mulatas cor da lua vem saindo cor de prata

Ou celestes africanas:

Que eu vivo, padeço e morro só pelas três mulheres do sabonete Araxá!

São amigas, são irmãs, são amantes as três mulheres do sabonete Araxá?

São prostitutas, são declamadoras, são acrobatas?

São as três Marias?

Meu Deus, serão as três Marias?

A mais nua é doirada borboleta.

Se a segunda casasse, eu ficava safado da vida, dava pra beber e nunca mais telefonava.

Mas se a terceira morresse...Oh, então, nunca mais a minha vida outrora teria sido um festim!Se me perguntassem: queres ser estrela? queres ser rei?

queres uma ilha no Pacífico? Um bangalô em Copacabana?

Eu responderia: Não quero nada disso, tetrarca. Eu só quero as três mulheres do sabonete Araxá:

O meu reino pelas três mulheres do sabonete Araxá!


De drie vrouwenen van de Araxa zeep


De drie vrouwen van de Araxa zeep obsederen,

troebleren, hypnotiseren me

O, de drie vrouwen van de Araxa Zeep

Om vier uur ’s middags

Mijn koninkrijk voor de drie vrouwen van de Araxa zeep!
Laat anderen, niet ik, de steen klieven

Om te aanbidden, de hartelozen

De bittere bleekhuidigen

De zilveren, maankleurige mulattinnen

De hemelse Afrikaansen

Ik leef, lijd en sterf alleen

voor de drie vrouwen van de Araxa zeep
Zijn het vriendinnen, zusters, geliefden

de drie vrouwen van de Araxa zeep?
Zijn het prostituees, priesteressen, acrobates?

Zijn zij de drie Maria’s?
Mijn god, zouden zij de drie Maria’s zijn?

De naakste is een vergulde vlinder.

Als de tweede zou trouwen

zou ik verloederen, aan de drank raken

en nooit meer, nooit meer telefoneren

maar als de derde zou sterven

o dan zou mijn leven nooit meer vroeger

een festijn geweest zijn.
Als ze me zouden vragen: ‘Wil je een filmster zijn?

Een koning, Wil je een eiland in de Stille Oceaan?

Een droomhuis in Copacabana?’

Ik zou zeggen: ‘Niets van dat alles wil ik Heer.

Ik wil alleen de drie vrouwen van de Araxa zeep.’
Mijn koninkrijk voor de drie vrouwen van de Araxa zeep



SONG OF THE WIND AND MY LIFE

The wind swept away the leaves

The wind swept away the fruits

The wind swept away the flowers

And still my life was left

Fuller than ever

Of flowers fruits and leaves.

The wind swept away the lights

The wind swept away the music

The wind swept away the perfumes

And still my life was left

Fuller than ever

Of perfumes star and songs.

The wind swept away my dreams

And swept away too my friends…

The wind swept away my women…

And still my life was left

Fuller than ever

Of loves and women.

The wind swept away the months

And swept away too your similes…

The wind swept all away!

And still my life was left

Fuller than ever

Of everything.



Vou-me embora pra Pasárgada

Vou-me embora pra Pasárgada
Lá sou amigo do rei
Lá tenho a mulher que eu quero
Na cama que escolherei
Vou-me embora pra Pasárgada

Vou-me embora pra Pasárgada
Aqui eu não sou feliz
Lá a existência é uma aventura
De tal modo inconsequente
Que Joana a Louca de Espanha
Rainha e falsa demente
Vem a ser contraparente
Da nora que nunca tive

E como farei ginástica
Andarei de bicicleta
Montarei em burro brabo
Subirei no pau de sebo
Tomarei banhos de mar!
E quando estiver cansado
Deito na beira do rio
Mando chamar a mãe-d'água
Pra me contar as histórias
Que no tempo de menino
Rosa vinha me contar
Vou-me embora pra Pasárgada

Em Pasárgada tem tudo
É outra civilização
Tem um processo seguro
De impeder a concepção
Tem telefone automático
Tem alcalóide à vontade
Tem prostitutas bonitas
Para a gente namorar

E quando eu estiver mais triste
Mas triste de não ter jeito
Quando de noite me der
Vontade de me matar

- Lá sou amigo do rei –
Terei a mulher que eu quero
Na cama que escolherei
Vou-me embora pra Pasárgada.


I AM GOING AWAY TO PASARGADA

I am going away to Pasargada

There I am friend of the king

There I have the woman I want

On the bed that I shall choose

I am going away to Pasargada.

I am going away to Pasargada

Here I am not happy

There life is an adventure

I such a non-mattering way

That Joan the Mad Woman of pain

Queen and pretended insane

Is relative once removed

From the daughter-in-law I never had.

And how I will exercise!

I will pedal my bicycle!

I will ride the wild ass!

I will climb the greased pole!

I will bathe in the sea!

And when I am tired

I will lie on the banks of the river

And call the nymph of the water

To tell me the stories

That Rose used to tell me

When I was a boy

I am going away to Pasargada.

There´s everything in Pasargada

It´s another civilization:

It has s safe and sure way

To prevent knocking the girls up

It has automatic telephone

It has plenty of dope

It has beautiful prostitutes

For one to make love to.

And when I become sadder

So sad that I have no more hope

And when in the night it comes:

The desire to kill myself

— Ah, there I am friend of the king —

Then I have the woman I want

On the bed that I shall choose

I am going away to Pasargada.


Ik ga naar Pasárgada

Ik ga naar Pasárgada
Daar is de koning mijn vriend
Daar ligt de vrouw die mij gerieft
In het bed dat mij belieft
Ik ga naar Pasárgada

Ik ga naar Pasárgada
Hier ben ik niet gelukkig
Daar is het leven avontuur
En wel zo inconsequent
Dat Johanna de Waanzinnige van Spanje
Koningin en zogenaamd dement
Familie is van de schoondochter
Die ik nooit heb gekend.

En wát zal ik aan gymnastiek doen
Wát zal ik uit fietsen gaan
Op ongetemde ezels rijden
In kokanjemasten klimmen
Wát zal ik zwemmen in zee!
En als ik moe word ga ik liggen
Aan de kant van de rivier
Ik laat de watermoeder komen
Om mij de verhalen te vertellen
Die toen ik nog kleine jongen was
Rosa mij vertellen kwam
Ik ga naar Pasárgada

In Pasárgada heb je van alles
't Is een ander soort beschaving
Er is daar een feilloze methode
Ter voorkoming van bevruchting
De telefoon werkt automatisch
Er zijn alkaloïden naar believen
Er zijn mooie prostituees
Waar je mee vrijen kunt

En als ik eens wat droever ben
Zo droevig dat het niet te harden is
Wanneer mij 's nachts de lust bekruipt
Mijzelf van kant te maken
- Daar is de koning mijn vriend –
Dan ligt de vrouw die mij gerieft
Daar in het bed dat mij belieft
Ik ga naar Pasárgada.




Momento num café

Quando o enterro passou
Os homens que se achavam no café
Tiraram o chapéu maquinalmente
Saudavam o morto distraídos
Estavam todos voltados para a vida
Absortos na vida
Confiantes na vida.

Um no entanto se descobriu num gesto largo e demorado
Olhando o esquife longamente
Este sabia que a vida é uma agitação feroz e sem finalidade
Que a vida é traição
E saudava a matéria que passava
Liberta para sempre da alma extinta.


MOMENT IN A CAFÉ

When the funeral procession passed by

The man who were in the café

Tipped their hats oh, so mechanically

In perfunctory and absent-minded salute to the dead

For they themselves were all turned toward life

They were swallowed up in life.

They were relying upon life.

One of them, swept off his hat

In the long and slow arc of a gesture

And stared at he hearse:

For this man knew that life is a fierce and simless agitation

That life is a treason

And he paid his respects to the flesh which passed by

Forever freed from the dead soul.


Moment in een café

Toen de begrafenis langskwam
Namen de mannen in het café
Werktuigelijk hun hoed af
En groetten afwezig de dode
Zij waren allen gericht op het leven
Zij gingen op in het leven
Vertrouwden het leven.

Eén echter ontblootte het hoofd in een breed en langzaam gebaar
En bleef staan kijken naar de kist
Hij wist dat het leven een genadeloos en zinloos jachten is
Dat het leven verraad is
En groette de materie die langsging
Materie voor altijd verlost van de gedoofde ziel.


Vertaling: August WILLEMSEN



Profundamente

Quando ontem adormeci

Na noite de São João

Havia alegria e rumor

Estrondos de bombas luzes de Bengala

Vozes cantigas e risos

Ao pé das fogueiras acesas.

No meio da noite despertei

Não ouvi mais vozes nem risos

Apenas balões

Passavam errantes

Silenciosamente

Apenas de vez em quando

O ruido de um bonde

Cortava o silêncio

Como um túnel.

Onde estavam os que há pouco

Dançavam

Cantavam

E riam

Ao pé das fogueiras acesas?

—Estavam todos dormindo

Estavam todos deitados

Dormindo

Profundamente.

* * *

Quando eu tinha seis anos

Não pude ver o fim da festa de São João

Porque adormeci

Hoje não ouço mais as vozes daquêle tempo

Minha avó

Meu avô

Totônio Rodrigues

Tomásia

Rosa

Onde estão êles?

—Estão todos dormindo

Estão todos deitados

Dormindo

Profundamente


Deeply

When last night I fell asleep

On the Eve of São João

There was still a hum of noise and joy

Fizzing rockets Catherine wheels

Voices singing laughter

Around the blazing fires.

In the middle of the night I woke

To no more voices no more laughter

Only sky lanterns

Drifting

Silently

Only now and then

The clatter of a tram

Cutting through the silence

Like a tunnel.

Where were they, those who were so lately

Dancing

Singing

And laughing

Around the blazing fires?

They were all sleeping

They were all resting

Sleeping

Deeply.

* * *

When I was six years old

I missed the end of the party

Because I fell asleep

Today the voices of those days are gone

My grandmother

My grandfather

Totônio Rodrigues

Tomásia

Rosa

Where are they now?

They are all sleeping

They are all resting

Sleeping

Deeply
.