Cecilia Meireles

vigil

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Vigil

–Cecília Meireles

As the companion is dead,
so we must all together die
somewhat.

Shed for him who lost his life,
our tears are worth
nothing.

Love for him, within this grief,
is a faint sigh lost in a vast
forest.

Faith in him, the lost
companion — what but that
is left?

To die ourselves somewhat
through him we see today
quite dead.

Translation

Vigília
Como o companheiro é morto,
todos juntos morreremos
um pouco.

O valor de nossas lágrimas
sobre quem perdeu a vida
não é nada.

Amá-lo, nesta tristeza,
é suspiro numa selva
imensa.

Por fidelidade reta
ao companheiro perdido,
que nos resta?

Deixar-nos morrer um pouco
por aquele que hoje vemos
todo morto.

Photo by 王维家 on Unsplash

lost face

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One needs an excuse for using such a creepy photo.

Portrait
–Cecilia Meireles
I didn’t have this face then,
So calm, and sad, and thin,
Nor these eyes that are so empty,
Nor these bitter lips.

I didn’t have these weak hands then,
So still, and cool and dead;
I didn’t have this heart then
That I hate to bare today.

I was never aware of changing,
So simple, so certain, so easy.
-Into which mirror then
was my face lost?

Original

Retrato
Eu não tinha este rosto de hoje,
assim calmo, assim triste, assim magro,
nem estes olhos tão vazios,
nem o lábio amargo.

Eu não tinha estas mãos sem força,
tão paradas e frias e mortas;
eu não tinha este coração
que nem se mostra.

Eu não dei por esta mudança,
tão simples, tão certa, tão fácil:
– Em que espelho ficou perdida
a minha face?

Photo by Gary Bendig on Unsplash

lost in the mirror

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Further thoughts on mirrors and reflections…

“There is no language without deceit.”

“men and women began to live their ephemeral dreams, every phantom would become a person with whom to begin a story of pursuits, pretenses, misunderstandings, clashes, oppressions, and the carousel of fantasies would stop.”

– Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities

Portrait (-Cecilia Meireles)

I did not have this face I have today,
So calm, so sad, so thin,
Nor these empty eyes,
Nor these bitter lips.

I did not have these weak hands,
So inert, so cold and dead;
I did not have this heart
That doesn’t show itself.

I was not aware of this change,
So simple, so certain, so easy:
-In which mirror has my face been lost?