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Jennifer Trajano: Biography and Poems | Brazilian Poetry

Biography.

Jennifer Trajano is from the city of João Pessoa, Paraíba (Brazil), a Portuguese language teacher (master in literature) and author of the books "Latíbulos" (Escaleras, 2019) and "Tell the Whites I'm Not Going" (Urutau, 2021).

Biography.

Adriana Lisboa (b.1970) has degrees in music and literature. Among other books, she has published Symphony in White, which won the Jose Saramago Award, and Hanoi, chosen as the book of the year by the Independent, as well as two poetry collections. Her poems and stories have appeared in Modern Poetry in Translation, Granta, Asymptote and The Indian Quarterly.

Biography.

She was born in São Paulo, but lived in the Northeast and South of Brazil, leaving Florianópolis in 2000 for bolder flights to England and the USA, with the objective of improving the English language, living fantastic experiences. In poetry, her main focus is to work in a multimiditic and contemporary language (concretism) a revolutionary (ontological) psychology search in the lived reality (self-fiction) and in the Cultural exchanges a young and feminine audience, in transcendence.

Biography.

Isabel Furini is an Argentine writer, poet and educator. He has lived in Brazil since 1980. He is a columnist for the newspaper Paraná Imprensa. He published 35 books in Brazil, among them: “Os Corvos de Van Gogh” and “,,, e outros silêncios”; he participated in an anthology in Buenos Aires. She is an Ambassador of the Word of the César Egido Serrano Foundation (Spain). His poems were awarded in Brazil, Spain and Portugal.

Biography.

Adriane Garcia (Belo Horizonte, 1973) is a Brazilian poet, writer, theater educator and actress. He graduated in History from the Federal University of Minas Gerais and specialized in Art Education at UEMG. Her first book, "Fables for adults to lose sleep", won the Paraná Prize for Literature in 2013, in the poetry category. In 2017, she was the curator of the Belo Horizonte International Literary Festival.

Bonnie And Clyde

I saw Bonnie and Clyde
Dying
So many times
I started to
Believe
Only on
Bank robberies

As beautiful as Bonnie
And Clyde
Loving each other
Under the bursts
Was dreaming on
Movies
As if you
Robbed me
A hollow

Love is this
Adrenaline
That ends up in one of the
Getaways.

Translated by Samantha Batista

Extinction

The color white reflects the sun
And sends the heat away
From Earth

If Earth warms up
The ice melts
And Earth does warm up

The seaweed that is born under the ice
Feeds the krill
Wihich feeds the whale

If there's no ice
There's no krill
And there's no whale

I know it's obvious
But I already spoke of love
And you didn't even listen.

Translated by Beta Guedes Cummins

Biography.

Helena Kolody (1912–2004) was a Brazilian poet and educator. Considered to be the outstanding poet of the State of Paraná, she started writing poetry when she was 12 and published her first poem "A Lágrima" four years later. When she was 20, she became a schoolteacher and later, on graduation, a lecturer at the Curitiba Normal School. She is remembered in particular for being the first Brazilian to write verse in the Japanese haiku style, publishing "Cântico" in 1941 and including haiku verse in several later publications.

Machine-Man

Man got married to the machine
and created a strange hybrid:
in the chest a chronometer
in the skull a generator.
Red corpuscles of its blood
are rounded algorithms.

Statistical cacti grow
in their abstract gardens.

Precision planning,
life of machine-man.
The gears vibrate with
exertion of its realizations.

In its obscure core
is a strange prisoner,
whose screams agitate
the metallic structure;
blazing are the reflections
of an imponderable light
disturbing the coldness
of the armored machine-man.

Translated by Rosaliene Bacchus

Biography.

Amanda Vital is editorial assistant at Patuá, associate editor of Mallarmargens magazine and Master's student in Text Editing at Universidade Nova de Lisboa. Author of the book Passagem (Patuá, 2018). Has poems and translations in magazines, newspapers and literary supplements in Brazil and Portugal, in addition to publications in anthologies. He is technical assistant at the annual event Raias Poéticas: Afluentes Ibero-Afro-Americans of Art and Thought, curated by Luís Serguilha.

Biography.

Elisangela Martins, known as Eli Macuxi, is a Brazilian poet and teacher. She teaches History and Art Criticism in the Visual Arts Course at the Federal University of Roraima in North Brazil. Her first poetry collection, Amor Para Quem Odeia (2013), portrays love in its various forms of human experience. She is a frequent participant of Coletivo Caimbé, an association founded in 2009, with headquarters in Boa Vista, capital of Roraima, to promote citizenship through literature and the visual arts.

Biography.

Márcia Kambeba, of the Omágua/Kambeba indigenous people in Brazil, is the author of Ay kakyri Tama – Eu moro na cidade (2013). She’s a writer, composer, poet, activist, photographer, performer, and public speaker on indigenous and Amazonian subjects. With a master’s degree in geography, she offers workshops and storytelling throughout Brazil and abroad.

Biography.

Astrid Cabral Félix de Sousa (born 1936) is a novelist, critic, environmentalist, and diplomat, and one of the most eminent contemporary poets in Brazil. She is the author of numerous books of poetry, including Through Water (2003) and Anteroom (2007), along with many collections of essays and short fiction. Born in Manaus, Amazonas, she has lived and worked as a diplomat in Beirut and Chicago and has taught in both the United States and Brazil. A mother of five, she currently resides in Rio de Janeiro, where she continues her work as a figure in the Amazonian cultural identity and recovery movement.

Biography.

Patrícia Rehder Galvão, known by her pseudonym Pagu (June 9, 1910 – December 12, 1962) was a Brazilian writer, poet, playwright, journalist, and translator who had a large role in the Brazilian Modernist movement. Pagu was also politically active, being associated to the Brazilian Communist Party during the 1930 decade.

Biography.

Deborah Brennand was born in Engenho da Lagoa do Ramo, municipality of Nazaré da Mata, state of Pernambuco. She married Francisco Brennand, one of the most internationally famous Brazilian plastic artists. She dedicated herself to poetry and cultural life in the 1960s and 1970s. Deborah's poetry shows a world full of contradictions.

Biography.

Myriam Fraga was born I 1937, in Bahia, Brazil. Her poetry has appeared first in many of the Brazilian periodicals and reviews. She has published many books of poetry, of which the most important are: Sesmaria, O Rison a Pele, As Purificações and A Lenda do Pásaro que Roubou o Fogo. She writes a week column on cultural events fro A TARDE, the most important daily of he Northern Brazil, and is member of the Academy of Letters of Bahia.

Biography.

Pallottini's poetry is a mirror of the real world. It reflects all the contradictions of everyday life. It balances between lies and truths, between illusions and frustrations, between life and death, pain and pleasure. Between the ugly and the beautiful. Between hope and despair. To feel and to understand her poems simultaneously is not a challenge because Pallottini is one of the few lucky artists (and people) who combine emotions and reason in a unique, harmonious way, both in her work and in her life. There is no dividing line between the heart and the brain, between the real and the imaginary, between the sophisticated and the simple. These are the qualities that make her and her work so appealing. — Elzbieta Szoka

Poem

Allflesh
I dedícate.

That of the body
that which I eat.

All I dedícate
my love

to your hunger.

To A Murdered Homosexual

You used to train dogs.
Probably they never bit you.
Today you are forever beneath the ground
killed by men
who train
devils.

Ride Naked On That Beast

Ride naked on that beast
That might throw you

It's no worse than seeing children
Thrown in the trash heaps

It's no worse than sandals
Smeared with manure

It's no worse than pain
that doesn´t become music

It's no worse than love
that hurts more than all the rest.

Ride naked on that beast
or the world will throw you.

Translated by K. David Jackson

Biography.

Rachel de Queiroz (November 17, 1910 – November 4, 2003) was a Brazilian author, translator and journalist. She began her career in journalism in 1927 under the pen name "Rita de Queiroz".[1] She entered the national spotlight with the unexpected success of her debut novel O Quinze in 1930. She published other three novels before moving to Rio in 1939.[2] She was also renowned for her chronicles, short topical newspaper pieces.

Glass Tile

When the town girl arrived,
she came to live in the farm
at the old house…
too old…
that house was built by my grandpa…
They let her to sleep at the dormitory,
a room with no light, so dark!
Dived into the sadness
from its darkness and its single little door…
The lady didn´t say a word;
but she asked someone to bring from the downtown
a glass tile,
she wanted it was lit up,
her room with no light…

Now the bedroom where she lives
is the liveliest at the farm.
So clear that, at noon,
it is like a lace of the sun arabesques
on the red bricks even being very old,
just now see the sun light…

The white and cold moon
also gets in the light
of the miraculous tile…
Or some daring little star
makes face on the mirror
where the lady combs her hair…
One day you told me
that your life it was all darkness,
gray, cold,
without a moonlight, without a flash…
Why don´t you try?
Wasn´t the lady so well succeed?
Put a glass tile on your life!

Translated by Isaac Furtado

Biography.

Henriqueta Lisboa (1901–1985) was a Brazilian writer. She was awarded the Prêmio Machado de Assis for her lifetime achievement by the Brazilian Academy of Letters. She is famous for her well-chosen words to create powerful poems. Her early lyrics deal with traditional poetic themes, while her later poems like Echo, she mysteriously magnifies the effect of a single image.

Suffering

A salt stone
becomes part of the ocean — very little! —

The soul remained lighter
than the body.

The music, far beyond
the instrument.

Of the lever,
its reason of being: the impetus.

Only the seal remains, the finishing
of the work.

The light which survives the star
and is its crown.

The wonderful. The immortal.

What I lost was so little.
But it was what I loved best.

On The Blind Man

For me the saddest event
is not to see in your eyes
this veil of mist
which hides the performance from you
But your ineptitude, the ineptitude
with which you neglect the display.

Faithfulness

Even now and always
the complaisant love.

In profile from the front
with life everlasting.

And if more absent
at every moment

so much more present
as time goes by

to the soul that allows
in the greatest silence

to keep it inside
the burning dimness

without forgetfulness
never forever

painfully.

Translated by Hélcio Veiga Costa

Biography.

Carla Diacov, São Bernardo do Campo, 1975. She is the author of the books: Amanhã Alguém Morre no Samba (Douda Correria, 2015/Edições Macondo, 2018), ninguém vai poder dizer que eu não disse (Douda Correria, 2016), bater bater no yuri (livro online pela Enfermaria 6, 2017), A Munição Compro Depois (Cozinha Experimental, 2018), A Menstruação de Valter Hugo Mãe (Casa Mãe, Portugal, 2017/Edições Macondo, 2020), in which the poems are illustrated by drawings made with menstrual blood.

The Cair

there once was a couple with only one chair
in the chair sat the ovulated wife
and sat the menstruated wife
the man sat in the chair erect there was
this one convention between the couple
that the chair would be a regulating ritual
of the dirtiness type of object of contamination
of the woman things in the man things
afterwards they lay in the very only bed for one
pregnancy never happened and the wife died sitting
in the chair the husband married again but
the new wife brought along another chair and
pregnancy never happened thought
the first husband
we’re not using the same chair
the husband died in the first chair
and the second wife kept the house
with the only bed and she got rid of the first
chair
a fisherman bought the chair for three
scrawny sardines and sat in the chair
facing the world and precisely the world he knew he was
fenced off from the first aura
a chair where the first one
and the contamination
the fisherman was creating another chair
the third
a
daughter of that first convention

Holding Hands

i pass by these two lovers
it’s like holding my hands in a bucket of sardines
so many nips
i am wounded
it’s not mortal
passing by those two lovers
was like holding in a bucket of salt
my shredded hands
so many sardines
how the sun cuts
not even half a cat in sight
how the light cuts
how the boat cuts
so many scales
it’s like holding my hands
so many arms
not even half a cat
not even half a tongue
not even half bad

Lap

lay the mute fork in my lap
say incomprehensible things about love
say domestic things about life and hate
say not knowing how to tell death from technical death
say the anguish over the cat’s communication
lay the naked knife in my lap
say forbidden things about the thought of flower
say things under the nails of the dead
between their hairs
lay the dirty plate in my lap
say things and say and dance the fingers
lay the cracked glass in my lap
say things say things and all I hear is the tear in this our gentle language

Translated by Annie McDermott

Biography.

Eliane Potiguara (1950) is an award-winner writer, poet, activist, professor, social entrepreneur of indigenous descent. She published the following books: A Terra é a Mãe do Índio (1989), Akajutibiró: Terra do Índio Potiguara (1994), Metade Cara, Metade Máscara (2004; 2018), O Sol do Pensamento (2005), O Coco que guardava a noite (2012), O Pássaro Encantado (2014), A Cura da Terra (2015). She was bestowed the Order of Cultural Merit from the Brazilian Ministry of Culture, and participated in the elaboration of The United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP). Her texts and poems have been published in several magazines, websites, anthologies and e-books.

In this century of pain

In this century we'll no longer have sexes.
For being a mother in this century of death
Is to be feverish to subexist
Is to be a female in pain
Plundered in the condition of woman

I repeat
That in this century we'll no longer have sexes
I don't care if they understand
Or can only grasp it in another stupid century

We no longer have vaginas, we no longer breed
Our husbands have died
And to bear sick indigenous people
For our children to be killed
And thrown in the ditches
On the obscure roads of life
In this world without people
It only takes one mastermind

In this century we'll no longer have breasts
Spites, eyes, mouths or ears
Sexes or ears do not matter
Principles, morals, prejudices or defects
I no longer want the agony of the centuries ...

In this century there'll be no more way for us
Manners, beauty, love or money
In this century, oh God (? !)
There'll be no way for us.

Translated by Rubens Chinali
Published in Contemporary Brazilian Poetry (2020).

Biography.

Olga Savary (21 May 1933 – 15 May 2020) was a Brazilian writer, poet, and literary critic. She wrote several publications and was a member of PEN International. Notably, she won the Prêmio Jabuti in 1970 for Espelho Provisório. In Olga Savary, there is a mixture of explosion and sensitivity, of folly and modesty, as if she feared, by speaking out loud, she would break the enchantment of life: whether it be a child, a memory, a city. Olga Savary died on 15 May 2020 in Teresópolis at the age of 86 due to COVID-19.

Eden Hades

Water gardens satisfy our thirst
sunshine swollen in veins
hanging like mango
and I was like the owner of a ship
arrogant, deserving. Just like
an open vowel, I opened doors for the sand
in sudden loss of memory.
That the air should be swallowed like a ship.
All the sea breeze appears on the terraces
and vibrates in the sargassos above the swells.
Caught in the trap
Transforms the darkness to morning.
These are the contours of the dream:
a silver plaque and a name inscribed,
today deleted, engraved long,
long ago. And only that. The gods summon us,
they want us all because they want nothing,
they laugh at us, they lose us to win us
and to our questions
they play deaf,
they don’t respond except for the hollow
echo. Everything loses meaning
evil is pronounced.

Translated by Rosaliene Bacchus

Biography.

Angélica Freitas (born April 8, 1973) is a Brazilian poet and translator. Angélica Freitas had her poems published for the first time in an anthology of Brazilian poetry published in Argentina, titled Cuatro poetas recientes del Brasil (Buenos Aires: Black & Vermelho, 2006), organized and translated by Argentine poet Cristian De Nápoli. Her first book of poems was Rilke Shake (São Paulo: Cosac Naify, 2007). In 2012 her book um útero é do tamanho de um punho was a finalist on 2013 Prêmio Portugal Telecom.The English edition of Rilke Shake (translated by Hillary Kaplan) won the Best Translated Book Award for poetry in 2016. Freitas's poetry was published in France, Germany, Mexico, Spain and the United States. Her poems were published at several print and digital magazines

The Woman Is A Construction

the woman is a construction
must be

the woman is basically meant to be
a housing complex
all the same
everything plastered
just change the color

particularly I'm a woman
of bricks on display
in social gatherings having to be
the most hardly dressed

I say I'm a journalist

(the woman is a construction
with too many holes

leaks

the revista nova* is the ministry
of cloacal affairs
pardon me
do not talk about shit in the revista nova*)

you are a woman
and if you suddenly wake up binary and blue
and spend the day turning the light on and off?

(do you like being brazilian?
to be called virginia woolf?)

the woman is a construction
makeup is camouflage
every woman has a gay friend
how good it is to have friends

all friends have a gay friend
who has a woman
who calls him fred astaire

at this point, it's already late
the psychologists of the freud coffee shop
look and smile

nothing is going to change–

nothing will ever change–

the woman is a construction

Translated by Rosaliene Bacchus

Grad

men women are born they grow
they see how others are born
and how they disappear
from this mystery a cemetery arises
they bury bodies then forget

men women are born they grow
they see how others are born
and how they disappear
they record, record with their phones
make spreadsheets then forget

they hope their time comes slowly
men women
don’t know what comes next
so they go to grad school

men women are born they grow
they know that one day they’re born
and the next they disappear
but that’s not why they forget
to turn off the lights and the gas

Translated by Daniel Medin

One More (tiny) Thing

don’t calculate what you’ve lost in buying a box of pins (made in china)
and from where exactly they emerge with heads (flat)
and your cursing mao tse when a drop of blood appears (from the finger)
and when you find a pin in the street, leave it there (it’s not dead)
the same kind of pin pointing to the blouses (in your closet)
and brushing your skin it produces a red (so rare)
and someone is dreaming of pins (in china)
in this life only valued by a dozen (clearly)

Translated by Farnoosh Fathi

Biography.

Biography.

Biography.

Biography.

Biography.

Bonnie And Clyde

Extinction

Biography.

Machine-Man

Biography.

Biography.

Biography.

Biography.

Biography.

Biography.

Biography.

Biography.

Poem

To A Murdered Homosexual

Ride Naked On That Beast

Biography.

Glass Tile

Biography.

Suffering

On The Blind Man

Faithfulness

Biography.

The Cair

Holding Hands

Lap

Biography.

In this century of pain

Biography.

Eden Hades

Biography.

The Woman Is A Construction

Grad

One More (tiny) Thing

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