from Paraguayan Sea, by Wilson Bueno

from Paraguayan Sea, by Wilson Bueno (Brazil 1949-2010)

translated from Portunhol by Erín Moure

 

 

And now I’d like to tell you just one hairy secret:
all my efforts to lift myself up by the boots and great
armies of ants, all the noisy silences spoken by ants, to
comparer ces insectes inoffensives with the Guaraní that
enters me, ant, tahiĩ, tahiĩquaicurú, aririi, aracutí, pucú.
The ants of God blaze up in these dusks of verbs and
nouns, in this tangled web— making me capable, dear
lady, of deciding, with sudden verdict, my fate here
among all you antediluvian beings. Oui, because je suis
born at each moment of the moment du moment. Et I will
be until the end du possible. And later, that’s where I’ll
go when I’m no longer ici. Añaretã is l’enfer and we’ll
finally realize its flames keep vigil only dans le passé et
dans le futur—they don’t fit into and don’t know the
présent, añaretã, they don’t fit into or know for the simple
fact is that the présent is the fount of God the Father and
it’s only he who determines what to do with the dead or
what further task can be heaped on the living. In the past,
Assunción, Birigüi, Poconé, Campo Grande, you name
the city, the Imposition hurls itself with hard diamond
eyes and appears to spear the future—grinning, trident,
lewd lord of the plague, of horror and acrity, of all
lavisciousness or débaucherie, that tout existe only to
plant afflictions and cacti and frights in the présent. But I
now pinch his inhospitable flesh and grab it so that the
world is restored to me as honey. No, Guaraní offends no
one and I fork it in, all morbid with tahiis tahiiguaicurú,
fleeting/sylphs, aracutí, aririi, pucú. Winged ants that
pluck the song from my mouth so as to penetrate me,
insistent, their wings, their nuptial dance de l’abime, its
whirr at the back of the nasal cavité, its piercing agonies,
ah, les mots de Guaraní soothe my bones: tahiiguaicurú,
aririi, aractai, pucú, pucú.
          like a game of make-believe: pimpimbaristas,
piribela flows, doe-crazy, sinsin hatty, thwhistle,
cinderbella, honeysucko, fireflyes, basting antennae,
housemarvel, complutely crazies, bumballs, silksilly,
yellowbellies, hideinseek, zinzibabwes, walkabyes,
wheels o’fortune whistles, teresa bejesus, cowgirl
tracings, cute blindsdown, catatonicks, consternators,
frillysillies, roseygoos, dark mystery of fabulous origin,
trances, troupes, helicopterous silligigs, cancans, glass
cabinetes, duendes, vagueries, consenting abdominals,
bronchious sylphs, festivating lumpens, perennial
lumpens, comme un jeu of make-believe: the vieux
bonhomme contemplative but his hard world
yessirreebob, a deadly force, yes, to be educated in the
pouvoir of thigh or in blood vomité in buckshot, sentiers,
rebounded luggers, the face of care, la face de cake, the
face of breakdown, dead eyes derrière les lunettes de
warrior, spongey nymphos, you can’t keep going, this
story, its inner legends, its degrees of branch, its
anarquick lenses, its irremediable tenderness, potencies,
pastures, delias, its trod of vomit, this story wishes and
desires only to be a ropegame of play: like the gods in the
beginning, in the tupã-karai, before le début de tout, les
dieux et leur flick of the dice, their macabre inventura,
oguera-jera, this achey world: like a ropey play: ñe’ẽ.