A poem by Hilda Doolittle, with translation to Portuguese

A poem by Hilda Doolittle:

Priapus: Keeper-of-Orchards

 

I SAW the first pear

as it fell--

the honey-seeking, golden-banded,

the yellow swarm

was not more fleet than I,

(spare us from loveliness)

and I fell prostrate

crying:

you have flayed us

with your blossoms,

spare us the beauty

of fruit-trees.

 

The honey-seeking

paused not,

the air thundered their song,

and I alone was prostrate.

 

O rough hewn

god of the orchard,

I bring you an offering--

do you, alone unbeautiful,

son of the god,

spare us from loveliness:

The fallen hazel-nuts,
Stripped late of their green sheaths,
The grapes, red-purple,
Their berries
Dripping with wine,
Pomegranates already broken,
And shrunken fig,
And quinces untouched,
I bring thee as offering.

 

Translation to Portuguese by João Duarte:

PRÍAPO

Guardador-de-Pomares

 

Vi a primeira pêra

A cair.

O enxame amarelo, listrado de ouro,

Em busca de mel,

Não foi mais veloz do que eu

(Livra-nos da beleza!)

E caí prostrada,

Chorando.

Tu, que nos flagelaste com as flores,

Livra-nos da beleza

Das árvores de fruto!

 

As que buscavam o mel

Não pararam.

O ar ressoava com o seu canto

E só eu me prostrava.

 

Ó deus do pomar,

Talhado em tosco,

Venho trazer-te uma oferenda;

Tu, o que não é belo

(Filho do deus),

Livra-nos da beleza!

 

As avelãs caídas,

Despidas há pouco do invólucro verde,

Os cachos vermelho-púrpura

De bagos

Gotejando vinho,

Romãs já fendidas,

E figos mirrados,

E marmelos intactos,

Eis a minha oferenda.

 

In: https://arlindo-correia.com/020205.html

 

Our Literary Contest at:

https://talesforlove.blogs.sapo.pt/international-literary-contest-nature-120638

Enjoy.