The person, the place, the object
are exposed and hidden
simultaneous under the light,
and two eyes are not enough
to capture what is hidden
in a quick gesture.
It is necessary that the magic lens
enrich the human vision
and the truth of each thing
a better and drier truth extracts
to allow us to penetrate deeply
into the pure enigma of the pictures.
Photography - is the codename
of the most acute perception
that keeps showing us ourselves
and of the evanescence of all,
builds a continuation,
it is crystal of time on paper.
Of the street fights in Rio
in 68, what is left
more positive, more ardent
than the prosecuting photos,
so alive today as then,
to remind us how to exorcise them?
Marks of flood and eviction,
of the unburied corpse,
the mattress tossed in the wind,
the muddy, rotten slum,
the beggar in New York,
the young girl in the Jockey Club,
Garrincha and Nureyev, dance
of two destinations, priestesses
on the beach temple of Ipanema,
a strange lady in Ouro Preto,
the pain of Latin America,
myths they are not, for they are photos.
Photography: weapon of love,
of justice and knowledge,
through the seven parts of the world
to travel, to surprise
the tormented life of a man
and the hope that sprouts from the ashes.
----------------
Diante das Fotos de Evandro Teixeira
A pessoa, o lugar, o objeto
estão expostos e escondidos
ao mesmo tempo sob a luz,
e dois olhos não são bastantes
para catar o que se oculta
no rápido florir de um gesto.
É preciso que a lente mágica
enriqueça a visão humana
e do real de cada coisa
um mais seco real extraia
para que penetremos fundo
no puro enigma das figuras.
A fotografia - é o codinome
da mais aguda percepção
que a nós mesmos nos vai mostrando
e da evanescência de tudo
edifica uma permanência,
cristal do tempo no papel.
Das lutas de rua no Rio
em 68, que nos resta
mais positivo , mais queimante
do que as fotos acusadoras,
tão vivas hoje como então,
a lembrar como a exorcizar?
Marcas da enchente e do despejo,
do cadáver insepultávelo
colchão atirado ao vento,
a lodosa, podre favela,
o mendigo de Nova Iorquea
moça em flor no Jóquei Clube.
Garrincha e Nureyev, dança
de dois destinos, mães-de-santo
na praia-templo de Ipanema,
a dama estranha de Ouro Preto,
a dor da América Latina,
mitos não são, pois que são fotos.
Fotografia: arma de amor,
de justiça e conhecimento,
pelas sete partes do mundo
a viajar, a surpreender
a tormentosa vida do homem
e a esperança a brotar das cinzas.
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Comments
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From guest wbiro (contact)
nice job translating; I'm assuming that you've done a lot of translating, and this poet showed merit... -
Of photography, I like the line, "it is crystal of time on paper". A deft capturing of the capturing of images.
For me, this is a new example of renewal, "the hope that sprouts from the ashes". -
The famous photographer, photographs and the power of truth in images, in an age when powerful forces simply deny, or minds a reluctant to grasp, even the obvious, truths photos..they were once the great addition to the arsenal of truth and those who opposed official wrong-doing. It is true today, an army of cell cameras has revealed so much news! This is a marvelous poem, and such an intricate translation, the exuberance to the somber moments here, sometimes words locked into a time and place...yet the nuance and subtlety comes through strongly and clearly...remarkable work here...PK
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