Biography.
Raul Bopp (born in Santa Maria (RS) on August 4, 1898; died in Rio de Janeiro on June 2, 1984) was a Brazilian poet and diplomat. He did diplomatic work in Japan and was a friend of Oswald de Andrade. Hence his Cobra Norato is an example of work based in the Manifesto Antropófago. In 1977 he won the Prêmio Machado de Assis.
Daughter Of The Jungle
The forests raise hairy arms to hide you,Jealous of the sun,
And your sad flesh burgeoned in breasts.
New-come from the warm depths of the jungle.
In your eyes is the darkness of Amazonian nights.
And in the tropical languor of your body
Sleeps the shadow of the Southern Cross!
At night the jungle wakes in your blood
Dreams of long-lost tribes,
— Daughter of nameless races crossed in wholesale adultery.
And you wander thus, with nuptial step, to the banks of the river,
The heritage bequeathed to you by your ancestors.
And in the solitude you give yourself, sinuous and
languid, to the plastic water,
Naked as a forest flower,
Beneath the curious gaze of the stars.
Translated by Leonard S. Downes
XI
I wake up.The moon rose with bags under its eyes,
The silence hurts within the forest.
The stars are clean.
The great waters shrank while sleeping.
The tired night has stopped.
Oh, my friend!
I feel like listening to soft music—
that stretches itself within my blood:
a music that tastes like the moon
and like Queen Luzia's daughter's body;
and that makes me hear again
the conversations of the rivers—
which bring the lamentations of the journey
and voices that carne from far away
swollen with sobbings
I crossed the Shaken-lands
I stopped at the Big Worm's house.
I left my shadow with the Bottomless Being
only for Queen Luzia's daughter
I brought scented potions
and tinhorâo-tree bark
a bunch of clover-leaves
and mucura-cá roots.
But nothing worked out...
I go with such a sadness—
that slowly hurts a little
and bites the blood tenderly.
Oh, my friend.
Do not make noise
because maybe
the daughter of Queen Luzia
is still sleeping.
Oh, where would she be
for I only want to see
her eyes wet with green
her body—slim—like sugar-cane.
Maybe she is far away...
And I became a vagabond,
a world-traveller, wishing
to squeeze the body made of skin of flower
of the daughter
of Queen Luzia.
Oh, do not make noise...
Translated by Renato Rezende
White little heron flew and flew...
It thought the lake was way above.
Heavy dampness. Light hurting the eyes.
The sun seems like a little mirror.
Dissolving voices:
XV
Sky very blue.White little heron flew and flew...
It thought the lake was way above.
Heavy dampness. Light hurting the eyes.
The sun seems like a little mirror.
Dissolving voices:
A lone enormous bird crosses the pregnant horizon.
Translated by Renato Rezende
Translated by Renato Rezende
