You are currently browsing the daily archive for December 15, 2010.

Today’s guest poet – Olavo Bilac (in honor of his birthday tomorrow) – translated from the Portuguese.  I would like to attempt my own translation of this piece and others of Bilac’s, as I don’t think this version of translation is especially accurate.  But then I don’t know Portuguese, which is kind of a problem when it comes to translating it.

Abstraction

There are in space millions of gentle stars
To the reach of your sight….but thou conjecture
The ones thou don’t see, igneous and obscure roses
Exuberating in the farthest height of heights.

There are in earth millions of beautiful women,
To the reach of your desire….but thou search for
The ones who don’t live, dream and affection thou do not enjoy
Neither will, past or future visions.

Thus, in an abstraction of numbers and images,
Thou live.  You look with boredom at the isolated and sad planet
And find the heavenly vault deserted and dark.

And thou’ll die alone, between two mirages:
The stars with no name – the light thou’ve never seen,
And the women with no body – the light thou’ve never had.

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