'a mulher que sabia chorar pelada' the woman

'a mulher que sabia chorar pelada'

a mulher que sabia chorar pelada
a mulher que sabia escrever chorando
encostava os bicos no aquário e
chorava pelada sobre os peixes
chorava pelada sobre o tricô
a mulher que sabia chorar e varrer pelada
pelada a mulher que tinha mil e oitocentos espelhos
numa só parede amarelada
alcançava os temperos queimando as tetas
a mulher que sabia cozinhar pelada
sangrava onde passava o pano a enceradeira
a mulher que sabia menstruar pelada
a mulher que menstruava tocando harpa pelada
também cagava a mulher que sabia mijar pelada
olhava o frango pelado sobre a tábua
metia o dedo no cu do frango metia os dentes de alho e pimentas peladas
a mulher pelada e um cutelo na direita
a mulher que sabia chorar pelada
a mulher que sabia gargalhar pelada
era o nome dos cigarros de predileção do marido da vizinha
 

the woman

the woman who knew how to cry naked
the woman who knew how to write crying
leaned her nipples against the fish tank and
cried naked onto the fishes
cried naked onto the knitting
the woman who knew how to cry and sweep naked
naked the woman who had eighteen hundred mirrors
on a single yellowing wall
reached for the spices burning her tits
the woman who knew how to cook naked
bled where she passed the cloth the floor buffer
the woman who knew how to menstruate naked
the woman who menstruated playing the harp naked
also shat the woman who knew how to piss naked
looked at the naked chicken on the board
shoved her finger up the chicken’s arse shoved in the nubs of garlic and skinned peppers
the naked woman and a cleaver in her right hand
the woman who knew how to cry naked
the woman who knew how to belly laugh naked
was the name of the cigarettes favoured by the husband of her neighbour
 

This was our second workshop on the wonderfully surprising poetry of Carla Diacov. Annie McDermott, our guest translator, explained that Diacov often writes in a direct, plain-language style but uses startling juxtapositions, humour and images to foreground the inequalities or absurdities buried in daily life. This approach – using a relatively simple vocabulary and a directness of speech – meant that our translation could remain fairly close to the bridge-translation that Annie provided. We felt the poem would be best served by retaining the slightly odd syntax of the Brazilian Portuguese, where lines such as “bled where she passed the cloth the floor buffer” allow the nouns to occur in sequence, almost as discrete events. This intensified the sense of unease that comes from the poem’s last line. This line seems to turn the potential of the rest of the poem. Throughout, the lines could be seen as either instances of feminine agency in the privacy of the woman’s own experience or, after reading the last line, they might be reinterpreted through the male gaze. Whilst we tried, largely, to lean more towards the former the last line did charge some of the sexualised word choices / constructions with the potential menace of being seen by a neighbour. However we tried to keep the surprise of the final line – so effective when we first listened to the poem – in both strong rhythm of the line and the gradual revelation of sense.

'the woman who knew how to cry naked'

the woman who knew how to cry naked
the woman who knew how to write crying
leant her nipples against the aquarium and
cried naked over the fish
cried naked over the knitting
the woman who knew how to cry and sweep naked
naked the woman who had one thousand eight hundred mirrors
on just one yellowing wall
reached for the seasoning burning her tits
the woman who knew how to cook naked
bled where she went over with the cloth the floor polisher
the woman who knew how to menstruate naked
the woman who menstruated playing the harp naked
she also shat the woman who knew how to wee naked
she looked at the naked [/skinned] chicken on the board
put her finger in the chicken’s arse put in the cloves of garlic and the naked [/peeled] peppers
the naked woman and a cleaver in her right hand
the woman who knew how to cry naked
the woman who knew how to laugh loudly naked
was the name of the preferred cigarettes of the neighbour’s husband
 

Original Poem by

Carla Diacov

Translated by

Annie McDermott with The Poetry Translation Workshop Language

Portuguese

Country

Brazil