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Sobre Antonio Miranda















She is  one of the truly great Brazilian poetesses of all times was born in Lambari, a pleasant spa of the state of Minas Gerais, Brazil. She used to teach Universal Literature and Spanish-American Literature at the Universities of Belo Horizonte, the city where she has been living for a long time. She retired from work after having performed an excellent job as a teacher. HENRIQUETA LISBOA was also a member of the Mineira Academy of Letters.


Nevertheless all her life has been dedicated to poetry, which from the very beginning of her successful literary career she has mastered with a strong hand and wonderful skill. Her work has been growing in quality as well as in importance, as the years go by. Once she followed the symbolical school, but later she made

herself free and became a follower of the trends of modernism. Conciseness of style, perfection of form and the exact means of expression have been the chief aim of her art. She is extremely careful in her choice of a suitable vocabulary; the frame of her poems and the strength of her images reach a very high, lyrical and poetical realm, which very few modern writers can boast of. 





(a selection of poems from the book Poemas Escolhidos /Chosen Poems, translations by Hélcio Veiga Costa)



LISBOA, Henriqueta.  Poemas Escolhidos.  Chosen Poems.  Translations Hélcio Veiga Costa.  S.l.: s.ed., s.d.  134 p.  14x21 cm  Impresso na Mai Editora, de Belo Horizonte, MG.   Poemas extraídos dos livros “Velário 1930-1935”, “Prisioneira da Noite 1935-1939”, “O Menino poetaa  1939-1941”, “A Face lívida  1941-1945”, “Flor da Morte  1945-1949”, “Azul profundo  1950-1955”, “Montanha viva — Caraça 1958-1959”, “Além da imagem  1959-1962”, “Belo Horizonte bem querer  1972”, “O Alvo humano”.  Ex. col. Antonio Miranda




No oceano integra-se — bem pouco!

uma pedra de sal.


Ficou o espírito, mais leve

que o corpo.


A música, muito além

do instrumento.


Da alavanca,

sua razão de ser: o impulso.


Ficou o selo, o remate

da obra.


A luz que sobrevive a estrela

e é sua coroa.


O maravilhoso. O imortal.


O que se perdeu foi pouco.

Mas era o que eu mais amava.



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.



                                                                                                      DO CEGO


Para mim o mais triste

não é ver-te nos olhos

esse toldo de névoa

que te veda o espetáculo.

Porém a tua inépcia, a inépcia

com que descuras o espetáculo.





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.





Essa ternura grave

que me ensina a sofrer

em silêncio, na suavi-

dade do entardecer,

menos que pluma de ave

pesa sobre meu ser.


E só assim, na levi-

tação da hora alta e fria

por que a noite me leve,

sorvo, pura, a alegria

que outrora, por mais breve,

de emoção me feria.




This grave tenderness

which teaches me how to suffer

in silence, in the suavi-

ty of the twilight,

weighs upon my being

less than the feather o£ a bird.


And only thus, in the levi-

tation of the late and cold hour

so that the night may take me,

I swallow, sinless, the joy

which of yore, very briefly,

through emotion used to hurt me.




Além da Imagem: trama do inefável
para mudar contorno definido.
Ou não bem definido. Além da Imagem
trema de ser lembrança o que era olvido.




 Beyond the Image: plot of what is unutterable
 to change a defined configuration.
 Or one which is not well explicit. Beyond the Image
 trembles for being a remembrance what was forgetfulness.





Em solidão amadurece

a fruta arrebatada ao galho

antes que o sol amanhecesse.

Antes que os ventos a embalassem

ao murmurinho do arvoredo.

Antes que a lua a visitasse

de seus mundos altos e quedos.

Antes que as chuvas lhe tocassem

a tênue cútis a desejo.

Antes que o pássaro libasse

do palpitar de sua seiva

o sumo, no primeiro enlace.


Na solidão se experimenta
a fruta de ácido premida.

Mas ao longo de sua essência
já em raiz e cerne e caule
perdura, por milagre, a senha.

Então na sombra ele adivinha
o sol que a transfigura em sol
a suaves pinceladas lentas.
E ouve o segredo desses bosques
em que se calaram os ventos.
E sonha invisíveis orvalhos
junto à epiderme calcinada.
E concebe a imagem da lua
dentro de sua própria alvura.
E aceita o pássaro sem pouso
que a ensina, doce, a ser mais doce.





In loneliness the fruit

picked from the branch ripens

before the sun rose.

Before the winds lulled it

in the rustling of the grove.

Before the moon called on it

from its high and still worlds.

Before the rains touched

its soft skin as their will.

Before the bird sipped

the juice of the throb of

its sap, in their first meeting.


In solitude one tastes

the sour-pressed fruit.


But all along its essence

now rootless, without core and stem

the password miraculously endures.


Then in the shade it divines

the sun which changes it into sun

by means of soft and slow dabs.

It listens to the secret of those woods

where the winds hushed up.

And it dreams of unseen dews

close to the cremated skin.

And it conceives the image of the moon

inside its own whiteness.

And it accepts the bird that has no resting place

which sweetly teaches it how to be sweeter.






Ainda agora e sempre

o amor complacente.

De perfil de frente

com vida perene.


E se mais ausente

a cada momento


tanto mais presente

com o passar do tempo


a alma que consente

no maior silêncio


em guardá-lo dentro

de penumbra ardente


sem esquecimento

nunca para sempre









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




AN INTRODUCTION TO MODERN BRAZILIAN POETRY. Verse translations by Leonard S. Downes.  [São Paulo]: Clube de Poesia do Brasil, 1954.  84 p.   14x20 cm.  “ Leonard S. Downes “ Ex. Biblioteca Nacional de Brasília.



O Lord,
I thank Thee for the Faith  Thou gavest
and for the loving-kindness of my heart,
proofs of Thy abundant grace
which oft confound the Pharisees.

For love of him
that Thou hast called my neighbour
should I perchance
reject Thy gifts?





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