Issue 55 | Translated Poetry | August 2023

‘A Totem for Homo Zapping’ and other poems

Fabrício Marques

Translated from Brazilian Portuguese by Shelly Bhoil

Editor’s Note

Why must a person go through life, or even a day, with the same name? Shades of blue are worth decades of study. In a “pompous” world full of “certainties”, this vision shows us larger possibilities. If too much wonder is almost imperfect, do we want to be more, or less imperfect? Read and wonder.

—Mani Rao
The Bombay Literary Magazine

Translation Notes

As an immigrant in Brazil, translation helps me delve into cultural nuances that are at once particular and universal. Take, for instance, the anti-ideological and humanist sentiments in Fabrício Marques’s poem ‘Surplus value’ or the relatable depersonalization of being that comes through the male narrator in ‘Totem for Homo Zapping’ who changes his personality throughout the day as though someone changing television channels. The translation of this set of Fabrício Marques Brazilian-Portuguese poems has come through several drafts involving research such as on the place Pampulha in the poem ‘Lake’ or the academic context of ‘Titian Blue’ to get a better sense of these. The language mediations involved addition of punctuation and capitalization for the narrative flow, translation of Brazilian names (such as João into John), and preference of words from the available range of synonyms that retained not only the original alliteration from the Brazilian-Portuguese but also the tension between the poetic and the prosaic of the colloquial phrases in the poems.

—Shelly Bhoil

A Totem for Homo Zapping

I wake up as John, go to the John market, the John ride

but John only until a certain point:

just out in the middle of the street and my name is Nasser.

I tell tales, manoeuvre words

and soon after they call me Herodotus.

I am Herodotus until I am exhausted.

From eight to nine, I am Mwaka

and in the next hour at the job of Zanchi.

I go to the left in pursuit of some fruit—preferably red.

I take a breather in a park like Chang,

I am Chang on my guard.

I go to work and my colleagues greet me:

“Hello, Górki! Bye, Górki!”

At breakfast, the attendant remembers me as Xerxes.

The market is restless, the exchange rate fluctuates when they learn I am Zeki.

At six in the night, Brasilia time, I take leave as

.                          [Ximenes.

It’s bizarre for men to go through existence

[carrying but just one name.

I frequent bars telling about my feats, my name now is

.                          [Baltazar.

The Corvette hisses on the asphalt.

Lights, free and buoyant, flash in the distance,

lights, buoyant and free, beckon me (my name is Raoni).

From Raoni to Quiroga, it’s just a jump,

in the waltzing loop at the ball.

In a matter of no time, I am Gale

who plays the accordion and is complacent.

At home they welcome me as Histeu,

tomorrow is Sunday, a flowering of uncertainty.

Outside, the lizards take in the wobblers.

Under this roof, I am also known as Jimmy,

but you can also call me Abraham

until the dream begins, I pass out and call myself Hades.

To not lose count:

I am John Nasser Herodotus Mwaka Zanchi Chang Górki

.                          [Xerxes Zeki Ximenes Baltazar

.                          /Raoni Quiroga Gale Histeu Jimmy Abraham Hades

I am some

I am some and the others at your disposal

I fuel the firewood

in this beautiful conversation

around the heat of life

I repair the flames

that depart without an aim

and call me by name

Surplus Value

These men standing

along perennial glaciers

ceaselessly repeat their certitudes

which too are perennial.

The car is worth more than a symphony

The knife is worth more than poetry

The shares in the stock exchange are worth more than the clouds

The missile is worth more than a bunch of grapes.

And if a composer tells them that

the most certain of all things

is not worth a path under the sun,

they won’t have a clue

what the composer is talking about.

And they stand solemn, solemn under the blinding light,

choosing the car, the knife, the shares and the missile.

But I choose to be the rain

that slowly dissolves,

fiber by fiber,

centuries-old glaciers.

Lake

Pampulha(*). Pampulha. Pampulha.

The bird flies adrift, yes, the red one

to the left of those who seek too much

because too much wonder is almost imperfect

Far away, it appears, the moon shines

on the surface of the lake, leaves stir,

and it is now that in the opposite side dives in

the bird, distracting those who don’t perceive

the discreet gesture of farewell by the recluses

who throw themselves into their old waters.

Notes:

Pampulha is an administrative region in Belo Horizonte, Brazil, known for its famous lake.

Titian Blues

With the certainty that

nothing is more human than blue

(there are controversies)

the anthropologist studied

the Titian blues

for 30 years in Venice.

He became a specialist in blues.

At first look, I recognized

the blue sky of Madrid

And the nuances that set it apart

from the May sky of Belo Horizonte.

Between more than 100 shades

of blue, one could say:

this fish is cerulean, the sea is lapis lazuli

this plant is prussian blue

(the same blue

from Picasso’s Blue Period).

One could differentiate the shades of blue

more intense than aqua blue.

Now, so many decades later,

one has the necessary conviction to affirm,

above all authority:

decidedly, this blue belongs

to the Titian blues.

Translator | Shelly Bhoil

Translator Photo

Shelly Bhoil is an Indian poet and scholar on Tibet, and lives in Brazil. Her poetry books are published in English An Ember from Her Pyre (2016), in Brazilian Portuguese Preposição de entendimento (2023) and a pocket-book in Spanish Poemas em contrucción (2023). She has edited two reference books Tibetan Subjectivities on the Global Stage (2018) and New Narratives of Exile Tibet (2020) for Lexington Books besides the first collection of Tibetan exile poetry in Brazilian-Portuguese translation Testemunho poético dos tibetanos no exílio (2021) for the University of São Paulo.

Author | Fabrício Marques

Author Photo

Fabrício Marques (b.1965) is an award-winning Brazilian writer. His poetry books include Samplers (2000), Meu pequeno fim (2002), A fera incompletude (2013), and A máquina de existir (2018). His first book won Bahia’s Cultural Foundation of Literature Award in 1998. Throughout his writing career, which also includes books in other genres, Fabrício was thrice chosen as finalist in the Jabuti Award, one of the most prestigious literary awards in Brazil. He has also edited the bilingual (Spanish-Portuguese) anthology titled Fuera del alcance de la memoria – Fora do alcance da memória with Vallejo & Co (Peru) in 2019.