O pavão no telhado

Ele voa. Está no teto
do alojamento, extraordinário
e ao mesmo tempo,
ave. Voa.
Não sabia. Não o conheço.
Isto é um retiro de meditação
em silêncio, dez dias de pavões
e nenhum comentário.
Os joelhos doem de ficar sentada
no chão tanto tempo.
No intervalo, a recompensa: um pavão
que abre a cauda, e todas,
sem emitir som, abrimos a boca.
Majestade, não vos conheço.
A primeira vez que o ouvi,
achei que fosse um gato
em apuros.
A instrução é ficar de olhos fechados.
Respiração, espirros, e o pavão
dando gritos. Depois, a cantoria
das mesquitas, e eu choro.
Não sei por que, mas choro.
No último dia alguém encontra,
encantada, uma pena do bicho.
Vai levá-la para casa, guardá-la
em algum livro sagrado.
Anos mais tarde, a lembrança
será a ave no teto, sua cauda aberta,
o silencio de quarenta mulheres,
e não saber quase nada.
De nós mesmas,
da engenharia do vôo.

Translation by Tara Bergin

English version by Tara Bergin,
based on a literal translation from the Portuguese by Hilary Kaplan

It flies.
It’s up there on the roof
of the hostel, extraordinary,
and at the same time,
a bird. Flying.
It’s just I didn’t know –
I don’t know –
how.
I’m on a silent meditation retreat.
Ten days of peacocks and no one speaks.
My knees ache from sitting cross-legged on the floor.
But each day at break we get the reward:
a peacock, that opens out its tail
while we all silently open our mouths.
Power and Glory. I do not know you.
At first I think it is a cat in pain.
It has all its eyes open
but we are told to keep all our eyes closed.
Th ere’s the sound of breathing, sneezing,
the peacock screaming,
and then the call to prayer from the mosques
and I cry.
I don’t know why, but I cry.
On the last day,
one woman finds a feather with an eye.
She’s going to take it home and keep it in a sacred book.
Years from now it will remind her of the peacock
on the roof, its tail spread bright;
and of the forty silent women
who didn’t know that much about themselves,
or the mechanics of flight.

Additional Texts

Click here to read the literal translation by Hilary Kaplan.

 

Audio

The Peacock on the Roof (Angélica Freitas)

The Peacock on the Roof (Tara Bergin)

About This Poet:

Angélica Freitas

Angélica Freitas was born in Pelotas, Brazil, in 1973. She studied Journalism at Universidade Federal do Rio Grande do Sul and worked for several years as a reporter in Porto Alegre and then São Paulo. She left Brazil in 2006, living temporarily in the Netherlands, Bolivia and Argentina, before returning… Read More