BEM HAJA
para a lisboeta Martina

Olhos de contas de lótus,
encanto que arrebenta os trompetes lilases
e realça o junho de Lisboa.
Bem sabes, olhos de lótus!
Esse lilás do jacarandá brasileiro
que te cobre em copas, com teus bis- bisavós
chegou e partiu em naus, entre bons e maus.
Sementes que vieram
de rogo, fogo e rendas
do bilro de Itabaiana.
Do amargo da cana de Tarumã.
Da rua Padre Paulo e seu cheiro
de óleo de algodão e café
moído na hora do Angelus.
Vieram das brumas do Itapeti
que caem como um rosário
de sementes de lágrimas de Nossa Senhora
sobre o meu peito e memória.
Martina,
Sê bem-vinda!

BLESSED BE
for Martina, a Lisboeta of June

Eyes like lotus beads,
soft as the bloom itself, a charm that bursts
among lilac trumpets, proclaiming June in Lisbon.
You know it well, lotus-eyed girl,
the violet hush of jacaranda from Brazil,
its blossoms arching above you
like a dome of memory. The seeds arrived
and departed on pilgrim-bearing vessels,
tucked in the pockets of your forefathers, moored
and unmoored among the righteous and the damned.
They carried prayers for safe passage,
the fire of struggle, and lace bobbins threaded
with stories from the hills of Almas de Itabaiana,
from the bitter cane of Tarumã,
from Padre Paulo Street,
where the scent of cottonseed oil
mingled with coffee
freshly ground at the hour of the Angelus,
calling all to prayer.
They traveled through
the heavy mists of the Itapeti range,
dew falling like rosary beads,
grey tears of the Our Lady plant,
resting on this chest, reviving life itself.
Martina, welcome to our hearts.
Bem haja. May good come to you.

This poem was first published in Gávea-Brown.