two thousand and twenty
Translated to English by Sarah Rebecca Kersley.
Original version in Brazilian Portuguese by Mel Adún is below.
I’d love to stay at home
waiting for the band to go by
stay at home,
and say we died a little more
these past hundred and twenty days.
economizing air
to talk about those suffocating
minutes
mutilating families.
I’d love to stay at home
waiting for the band to go by
stay at home,
and hear nothing of the numbers:
twenty-three,
eight forty-six,
fourteenth of the third two thousand and eighteen,
five years old, ninth floor
thirty-five metres.
I’d love to stay at home
stay at home,
arrange flowers in a vase
decide on colours for the walls
tidy frida kahlo cushions on the sofa.
learn to make bread rolls online,
instead of worrying about my brother’s time
in the hands of the cops
waiting for the band to go by
at home
and be satisfied.
giving talks about community
from within the university,
paying no mind to the strange fruit
pulverized by white models,
time for a pose
hand in pocket
hands in the air
gripped wrist.
I’d love to stay at home
and say we’re dying
from the pandemic
in the pandemic
twenty-three minutes
there’s the body,
another body.
I’d love to stay at home,
in the comfort of Oshala.
***
Original in Brazilian Portuguese:
dois mil e vinte
queria ficar dendi casa
esperando a banda passar
ficar dendi casa,
e dizer que morremos mais
nesses cento e vinte dias.
economizando ar
pra falar daqueles minutos
sufocantes
mutilando famílias.
queria ficar dendi casa
esperando a banda passar
ficar dendi casa,
não saber dos números:
vinte e três,
oito e quarenta e seis,
quatorze do três de dois mil e dezoito,
cinco anos, nono andar
trinta e cinco metros.
queria ficar dendi casa
ficar dendi casa,
e ajeitar as flores no vaso
as cores na parede
almofadas de frida kahlo no sofá.
fazer tutorial de pão,
e não me preocupar com meu irmão
nas mãos dos gambés.
esperando a banda passar
dendi casa
e me bastar.
falar de comunidade
de dentro das universidades,
esquecer as frutas estranhas
esmagadas por modelos brancos,
tempo pra pose
mão no bolso
mãos ao alto
pulso cerrado.
queria ficar dendi casa
dizer que estamos morrendo
da pandemia
na pandemia
vinte e três minutos
tá lá o corpo,
mais um corpo.
queria ficar dendi casa,
na paz de Oxalá.
Original poem in Brazilian Portuguese published in Quantas Tantas - Mel Adún (Ogum’s Toques Negros, 2021). A version of this translation was previously published in Poetas baianas – Women Poets from Bahia (e-book, org./ ed. Sarah Rebecca Kersley, 2021).
Mel Adún is a writer, journalist, and translator. She holds a Master’s Degree in Literature and Culture from the Federal University of Bahia and is currently reading for a PhD in Literature and Culture at the University of Kentucky. She is one of the founding editors of the small press Editora Ogum’s, with which she has published two children’s books, A Lua Cheia de Vento and Adumbi; with two books forthcoming: Peixe fora da baía (short stories) and Quantas Tantas (poetry). Her poetry has appeared in various anthologies both in Brazil and elsewhere. Adún was chosen by the Waters: she is a daughter of Oshun and mother of Ominirê. Her writing is that of a Black woman, an Amerafrican, Black feminist. She is part of the collectives Ogum’s Toques Negros and Kilomba – Black Brazilian Women Collective.
Sarah Rebecca Kersley is a poet, translator, and editor born in the UK and based in Brazil for over a decade. She is the author of two books published in Brazil: Tipografia oceânica [‘Ocean typography’] and Sábado [‘Saturday’]. Her writing and translation has appeared in places such as Denver Quarterly, Mãnoa Journal, Best Small Fictions, Modo de Usar & co., Isele Magazine, The Elevation Review, and elsewhere. She co-runs Livraria Boto-cor-de-rosa / Paralelo13S, an independent bookshop and small press focused on contemporary literature, in the city of Salvador, Bahia, where she is based.
Artwork by Abdi Ambari