EYE STALKS I – Translated June 23, 2021

 

There were days when from the orbits my eyes

ran away, seeking to see you.  I sent them

after you on the winds and peered at you

during meals; and while you bathed your skin

 

I ogled it in my anxiety, from far, so far away.

My eyes were yours and never no one else’s,

as if in the whole world there were no other girl

that I would find, like in a monk’s prison cave,

 

whose bars were my eyelashes that stopped

me from seeing any other woman whosoever;

my eyes followed you, like crazy brain axons,

 

slashed from nerves or retinas, and crashed in

amidst your dreams, though never being

seen by yourself nor by you ever suspected.

 

EYE STALKS II

 

By and by, slowly proceeded the retreat

of these eyes of mine; the nerves got shrunk,

swept by the winds and then recoiled,

to be inserted back into their hollow orbits...

 

But how much I could see with my empty sight!

Now that my pupils are back into their places

I see so little!... All my seeing I left

on the traces of your face, thread by thread...

 

Today all I can see is that which lays around,

my eyelids are now glued with an odd blindness:

I can no more peer in and watch your secrets...

 

Therefore the world turned now so much smaller,

but I still can see your face on dust motes,

as only can the eyes of ancient cithara players... (*)

(*) The ancient lyre-like instrument the old time poets

used to strum in accompaniment to their verses.

Illustrated by the ancient theater muse,

Sarah Bernhardt.  Ever heard of her?

As usual, here you go my original sonnets written in

Portuguese.  Sorry, too many ideas to set in rhyming...

 

PEDÚNCULOS I

 

Dias houve em que das órbitas meus olhos

corriam de te olhar.   Eu os mandava

atrás de ti ao vento e te enxergava

nas refeições; e no banho teus refolhos

 

contemplava com ânsia, assim de longe.

Meus olhos eram teus, de mais ninguém,

como se o mundo nada mais também

tivesse, nesse ergástulo de monge,

 

que eram meus antolhos, que impediam

minha visão de outra mulher qualquer:

meus olhos te seguiam, axônios loucos

 

sem nervos ou retinas, que surgiam

no meio de teus sonhos, sem sequer

serem vistos por ti, nem mesmo aos poucos.

 

PEDÚNCULOS II

 

Mas, lentamente, vão-se retraindo

estes meus olhos: os nervos já se encolhem

sob a força do vento e se recolhem,

nas órbitas vazias se inserindo...

 

Mas como eu via com o olhar vazio!

Agora que minhas vistas retomei,

vejo tão pouco... O meu olhar deixei

nas dobras de teu rosto, fio a fio.

 

Hoje só vejo o que está a meu redor,

as pálpebras se encheram de cegueira,

não mais consigo avistar os teus segredos...

 

O mundo inteiro assim fez-se menor...

Mas ainda vejo teu rosto em grãos de poeira,

como só pode o olhar dos citaredos...(*)

(*) Tocadores de cítara, um instrumento antigo usado pelos poetas para acompanhar o canto de seus versos.