Four Poems

Murilo Mendes

PANORAMA
 
An elastic form shakes the wings in space
and laziness, the love of dreaming, infiltrates me.
In a corner of the earth a blonde woman
hangs herself and gets in the news.
A girl of broad chest and thin hips
comes from the bottom of the sea,
comes from that ship that sank and becomes a mermaid.
The youngest daughter of the neighbor
is laid out in the coffin there
in the visitation room with landscape,
a queasy smell of tuberoses and my sincere condolences.
 
Everything is in its place
my girlfriend is alone at the window
the dream is sleeping in the head of the man
the man is walking in the head of God,
my mother is in heaven in ecstasy,
 
I am in my body.


 
BOTH SIDES
 
This side has my body
has the dream
has my girlfriend in the window
has the screaming streets of lights and movements
has my love so slow
has the world beating in my memory
has the way to work.
 
On the other side there are other lives living off my life
there are serious thoughts waiting for me in the visitation room
there is my definitive bride waiting for me with flowers in her hand,
there is death, the columns of order and disorder.


 
BEGINNING
 
A vast hand will shake me in the pure morning.
Maybe I will be born in that moment,
I who am dying since the creation of the world,
I who bring strongly with me
The sin of our first fathers.
 
Space and time
Will come undone in the dress of the Big white bride.
I will finally be deciphered, the foreigner of life
Will rest for the first time in the familiar universe.


 
MOST STRONG IDEA
 
A most strong idea among all but one
Inhabits my brain night and day,
The idea of a woman, more dense than a form.
Idea that accompanies me
From one to another moon,
From one to another walk, from one to another anguish,
That plucks me from time and overflies history
That separates me from myself,
That cuts me in two with the divine glaive.
An idea that annuls the exterior landscapes,
That causes me terror and fever
That stands before the pyramid of orphans and the wretched
An idea that augers into every pore of my body
And it only doesn’t become the great caustic
Because it’s a relief against the much stronger and more violent idea of God.

translated from the Portuguese by Lucas Lazzaretti and Brett DeFries