I KNOW IT'S NOT SO

About Patricia Evans' poetry

"Although I have spent time with Patrícia Evans on three separate occasions, I feel I know Patrícia Evans only through her poetry. She hides nothing, she surrenders everything. It is some of the most powerful poetry I have ever read. And I have read only English translations of her poems, so those who read her in her native Portuguese will experience her even more intimately. They should prepare themselves for imagery, anger, compassion, despair, humor, insight, knowledge of her self and the deepest love for those she loves, especially dad."

Robert E. Sheridan


Mr. Sheridan had been an editor for the New York Times for 32 years. He is also a poet, and a father.


Mr. Sheridan's blog:
http://www.coffeedrome.com/


PATRÍCIA EVANS

Twitter: @TiciaEvans - Email: TiciaEvans@gmail.com

06/02/2011

O INFERNO É AQUI / HELL IS HERE

O INFERNO É AQUI
( © Patrícia Evans)
.

Manda as bombas e abre as feridas,

as chagas que nem fecharam ainda,

espalha os pedaços sobre os campos;

um plástico preto por cima se houver

e acende vela nenhuma,

que é melhor estar no escuro.

Manda os corpos pelos ares,

as almas pro inferno em pares,

para que procriem,

para que a raça não pare,

para que a fome não passe

e a miséria não cesse.

Manda os corações aos cães

e os cães aos putrefatos ratos

dos seus esgotos, que estão inundados

de mais que se possa prever.

Manda a fúria e a desculpa

e que o dente por dente

não o impeça de comer os seus próprios restos,

que nada além há de haver no final,

quando o sono se for.

.

.


SEND US

(Hell is here)

( © Patrícia Evans)

.
Send us bombs
and open the wounds
the sores
that have not even healed
Spread out our pieces
over the fields
(if there are fields)
cover them with black plastic
(if there is any)
and light no candle
for it is better to be in the dark
Blow up bodies
sending souls to hell in pairs
so they may procreate
the race may still exist
the hunger may grow
misery may not cease
Give hearts to the dogs
and dogs to the rats in the sewers
which are inundated
(more than one can think of)
Send us fury and excuses
and may 'tooth for a tooth' not
prevent you from eating
your own remains
for anything else remains
when sleep is gone.'


.

.

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