Celebrating the 109 years of Carlos Drummond de Andrade

A century ago, a great poet was born: Carlos Drummond de Andrade.

With his birth (31^st of October) the poetic world has been gifted with a literary gem, both in poetry as in prose.

Those who are familiar with his work know that he could make of any daily issue a lyrical poem.

From politics to his own illness, from war to a ride on a trolley; anything became poetry when expressed in words by Drummond. A true magician with his mind and ink as his only tools.

This Brazilian poet, recognized as one of the greatest writers of all time, has had his works translated in different languages, and has been appreciated through many decades by everyone who likes poetry.

Drummond was a nonconformist, a poet who did not care about the conservative criticism.

One of his poems actually stirred the anger of many of those critics; this same poem became one of his most famous poems, as well a symbol for the modernist movement in the Brazilian literature.

No meio do caminho

No meio do caminho tinha uma pedra
tinha uma pedra no meio do caminho
tinha uma pedra
no meio do caminho tinha uma pedra.

Nunca me esquecerei desse acontecimento
na vida de minhas retinas tão fatigadas.
Nunca me esquecerei que no meio do caminho
tinha uma pedra
tinha uma pedra no meio do caminho
no meio do caminho tinha uma pedra.

-by Carlos Drummond de Andrade (1930)

There are few translations of this poem into English; in my opinion, John Nist wrote the best of them.

IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD

In the middle of the road was a stone
was a stone in the middle of the road
was stone
in the middle of the road was a stone.

I shall never forget that event
in the life of my so tired eyes.
I shall never forget that in the middle of the road
was a stone
was a stone in the middle of the road
in the middle of the road was a stone.

-translation by John Nist (1965)

Notice that John Nist translated the line 'No meio do caminho tinha uma pedra' exactly as Drummond intended—with the grammatical mistake. To be grammatical correct, the original line should be written as 'No meio do caminho havia uma pedra' and be translated (as it has been by other translators) as 'there was a stone in the middle of the road'. Luckily we have John Nist, who saw, understood and respected Drummond's intention!

Drummond wrote several short poems, poems about poetry, poems about not being able to put his thoughts into words. The one below is one of my favourite of his short poems.

Poesia
 
Gastei uma hora pensando em um verso
que a pena não quer escrever.
No entanto ele está cá dentro
inquieto, vivo.
Ele está cá dentro
e não quer sair.
Mas a poesia deste momento
inunda minha vida inteira.

-by Carlos Drummond de Andrade

Poetry

I spent one hour thinking of a verse
my pen does not want to write.
Yet, it is here inside
restless, alive.
It is here inside
and does not wish to get out.
But the poetry of this very moment
overflows my whole life.

-translation by Mariza G Góes

His poems about the society in Brazil, and in the world in general, have a strong voice, a voice that not only echoed his thoughts and feelings, but also of all the people who were suppressed by the government, especially in Brazil. His view of the world, often pessimistic, sometimes came with hope at the end of the tunnel. We can witness one those occasions when reading his poem, which is part of the book A Rosa do Povo.

Áporo

Um inseto cava
cava sem alarme
perfurando a terra
sem achar escape.

Que fazer, exausto,
em país bloqueado,
enlace de noite
raiz e minério?

Eis que o labirinto
(oh razão, mistério)
presto se desata:

em verde, sozinha,
antieuclidiana,
uma orquídea forma-se.

-by Carlos Drummond de Andrade

There are three meanings for the word áporo in Portuguese. 1) an insect; 2) a problem with no solution or difficult to solve; 3) a kind of green orchid. You'll notice, when reading the translation of the poem, that the three meanings are there to see, each of them distinctively. Such a subtle touch, even though unnoticed by many, was one of Drummond's amazing qualities as poet.

Aporo

An insect digs
digs without alarm
perforating the earth
without finding escape.
What to do, exhausted,
in a blocked country,
union of the night
root and mineral?
And the labyrinth
(oh reason and mystery)
suddenly untie itself:
in green, lonely,
anti-euclidean,
an orchid is born.

-translation by Mariza G Góes

To finish this birthday celebration, nothing better than one of his love poems. Despite the several poems about society, politics and even death, Drummond had the most lovely thoughts about love as well. The tenderness of his love poems shows that he was indeed a poet who could write about anything, without losing a bit of his poetic talent.

I grew up reading Drummond's poetry, and that is certainly the main reason why today I like poetry.

Inconfesso Desejo
 
Queria ter coragem
Para falar deste segredo
Queria poder declarar ao mundo
Este amor
Não me falta vontade
Não me falta desejo
Você é minha vontade
Meu maior desejo
Queria poder gritar
Esta loucura saudável
Que é estar em teus braços
Perdido pelos teus beijos
Sentindo-me louco de desejo
Queria recitar versos
Cantar aos quatros ventos
As palavras que brotam
Você é a inspiração
Minha motivação
Queria falar dos sonhos
Dizer os meus secretos desejos
Que é largar tudo
Para viver com você
Este inconfesso desejo

-by Carlos Drummond de Andrade

Ulterior Desire

I wish I had the courage
To speak of this secret
To tell the world
About this love
Isn't lack of wanting
Isn't lack of desire
You are my wanting
My greatest desire
I wish I could speak loud about
This healthy madness 
That is to be in your arms
Lost in your kisses
Feeling crazy by desire
I wish I could recite verses
Sing to the four winds
The words that spring
You're the inspiration
My motivation
I wish I could speak of dreams
Tell my secret desire
Of leaving everything
To live with you
This ulterior desire

-translation by Mariza G Góes