João Cabral de Melo Neto is arguably the most important poet in Brazilian poetry and poetics ever, but certainly in the period after WWII until the closing of the Millennium. There are, perhaps, poets with a wider range, whose oeuvre may better speak to future generations, but João Cabral’s poems cut like a knife through the fat and rhetoric of Brazilian poetry, and still exercise a brilliant and substantial influence on Portuguese letters. Much of his skill was honed on Iberian poetry, but he also expressed a dry and spare sensibility straight from the sertão of the parched Northeast region he hailed from. Admired by the Concrete poets and the avant-garde, the traditionalists, the sociopolitical, even the writers from antithetical traditions, no one could really refuse his wit, ontological intelligence, and metrical mastery. He received the Neustadt Prize in 1992. He died only recently, but his poems live on, and two poems in particular, A Knife All Blade (Uma faca só lâmina ,1956), and his verse play, Death and Life of Severino the Migrant (Morte e Vida Severina,1954-55) are his masterpieces. These remain major literary works in twentieth-century Brazilian poetry.
A Knife All Blade is a metaphorical and epistemological manifesto of sorts, the equal of Apollinaire’s Alcools, Eliot’s The Waste Land, and Octavio Paz’ Piedra De Sol in its impact on its native language. Thomas Colchie had this to say about A Knife All Blade. “Cabral’s most important long poem. It represents a belief in the perfection of poetic production. The poem expresses the poet’s will to aesthetic perfection through the exploration of language to objects and objects to man…His work has already become Brazil’s greatest contribution to twentieth-century poetics."
—Kerry Shawn Keys
A Knife All Blade
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UMA FACA SÓ LÂMINA
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Just like a bullet just like a bullet like a bullet with a heart like a clock a clock having just like a knife an intimate knife, of the man who would have one |
Assim como uma bala assim como uma bala qual bala que tivesse igual ao de um relógio relógio que tivesse assim como uma faca qual uma faca íntima de um homem que o tivesse, |
A |
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Be it a bullet, clock, But that which isn’t That which isn’t in him That which isn’t in him For this reason the best because nothing can mark because nothing indicates better than the image of a knife |
Seja bala, relógio, Mas o que não está Isso que não está Por isso é que o melhor porque nenhum indica nenhum melhor indica que a imagem de uma faca |
B |
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Most astonishing Even more astonishing yet You can abandon it, From nothing it distills And like the knife it is, the stript blade which grows the more it cuts (For the life of such a knife |
Das mais surpreendentes E mais surpreendente Podes abandoná-la Do nada ela destila E como faca que é, a lâmina despida cujo muito cortar (Que a vida dessa fac |
C |
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Careful! with the object, because the teeth of the bullet Take more care, however, Pay special attention that its copper, so polished, But if it is the knife, Likewise, its edge, at times Of grave importance is that the knife |
Cuidado com o objeto, porque seus dentes já Mais cuidado porém É preciso cuidado e seu cobre tão nítido Então se for faca, Também seu corte às vezes O importante é que a faca |
D |
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And at times, this knife Perhaps it isn’t turned off, But whether asleep or turned off: quite similar to a neutral And the sword of this blade, all of them follow the process bullet of leather or cloth, (Yet, when the tide |
Pois essa faca às vezes Talvez que não se apague Mas quer durma ou se apague: bem semelhante à neutra E a espada dessa lâmina, tudo segue o processo bala de couro ou pano, (Porém quando a maré |
E |
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It is necessary to keep (in dampness created by Caution is necessary For they can’t withstand But if you must expose them Never remove them in air And never at night, in the fever of this sun |
Forçoso é conservar (na umidade que criam Forçoso é esse cuidado Não suportam também Mas se deves sacá-los Mas nunca seja ao ar E nunca seja à noite, à febre desse sol |
F |
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Whether it be that bullet or even a knife no one will be able and the race of the blade If he who suffers its rape The entire medicine Neither can the police And neither can the hand |
Quer seja aquela bala ou ainda uma faca ninguém do próprio corpo nem importa qual seja E se não a retira Não pode contra ela Nem ainda a polícia E nem a mão de quem |
G |
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This bullet that a man And what this clock implies If the metaphor is a knife, The cutting edge of a knife for by keeping alive and, in addition, a body as in that story that he could preserve |
Essa bala que um homem O que um relógio implica E se é faca a metáfora O fio de uma faca pois lhe mantendo vivas além de ter o corpo como naquela história que pôde conservar |
H |
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When he who suffers words Men who generally some words suffocate words that lost in their use For only this knife and only this knife that quality which all knives plus the pure violence |
Quando aquele que os sofre Os homens que em geral umas que se asfixiam palavras que perderam Pois somente essa fraca e somente essa faca o que em todas as facas mais a violência limpa |
I |
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This hostile blade, it also knows to wake For whoever suffers the knife, Everything acquires In each thing the side now strip themselves Among so many things suffering that blade |
Essa lâmina adversa, sabe acordar também E tudo o que era vago, Em volta tudo ganha Em cada coisa o lado despem-se agora do Pois entre tantas coisas sofrendo aquela lâmina |
******** |
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Back from that knife, back from that knife from the image where I stayed once back from the knife and from it to the other, and from there to the memory and at last to the presence at last to reality, the first, |
De volta dessa faca, de volta dessa faca da imagem em que mais pois de volta da faca e dela àquela outra, e daí à lembrança w afinal à presença por fim à realiddade, |
—translated by Kerry Shawn Keys
Born in the US, Kerry Shawn Keys (IWP 1991 and 1993) has taught in Brazil and India, and now lives in Lithuania where he has been a Fulbright lecturer at Vilnius University. He is a poet, editor and translator, with over 40 books to his credit, including translations from Portuguese, Czech, and Lithuanian. His most recent publications are Conversations With Tertium Quid, Blue Rose Fusion, and Broken Circle, as well as a CD of his poetry readings with the jazz percussionist Vladimir Tarasov. He received the 1992 Winner Memorial Award from the Poetry Society of America, a Translation Laureate Award from the Lithuanian Writers Union in 2003 and, in 2005, a NEA Literature Fellowship.
Keys’ translation was first published in a limited edition chapbook, where Mark Strand noted it as “a fine translation of a difficult poet,” and then in the New Directions Anthology. It is re-published here with the author's permission.