As the International day of Poetry is getting closer I've decided to go through some of my favourite Lisbon prose poems and their translated English versions ... many of which are to be found in the amazingly beautiful bilingual book "Portrait of Lisbon" by John O'Connor.
In an attempt to honour such a day and with it some of the acclaimed (and less acclaimed) Portuguese writers and poets I'll have one transcribed in my humble blog everyday for the next few days ...
"Cidade triste e alegre
Presépio, anfiteatro, cais de um destino, plano inclinado por onde ha séculos um povo e uma alma parecem escoar-se a caminho de outros mundos e paisagens, do pão amargo sobretudo - Lisboa é deste rio imenso, este horizonte de apelos sem fim, e não se pode ter nascido aqui, vivido aqui, ou ser-lhe assimilado, sem lhe sofrer o influxo, sem ficar para sempre marcado de uma vocação, dum desgarramento e fatalismo, dum anseio de partir e tornar, duma sensual melancolia"
"City of sadness and joy
Crib, amphitheatre, harbour of destiny, a slipway down which for centuries a people and a soul seemed to have slid away in search of different worlds and landscapes, and above all their meagre bread - Lisbon belongs to this immense river, to this horizon of a ceaseless calling, and it's not possible to have been born here, to have lived here, to have let it absorb you, without being subject to its influence, without being forever affected by a yearning, a desire to break loose, a fatalism, a longing to depart and return, a sensual melody"
No comments:
Post a Comment