quinta-feira, janeiro 15, 2009


Poemas

PIVETE

(Delinquent kid)

Abandoned Child Elegy

 

Ernane N. A. Gusmão

Salvador, Bahia

 

 

"Senhor Deus dos desgraçados

Dizei-me vos, Senhor Deus,

se eu deliro .. ou se é verdade,

tanto horror perante os céus?! ..."

 

                                                                                                                 (0 Navio Negreiro - Castro Alves)

 

 

 

Criminality, nowadays, has been assuming scandalous proportions. People´s security became a mere article of consumption for newspapers. On the basis of social process several distortions of ordinary man´s personality exist, mostly caused by miserable life conditions the poorest classes of society are submitted. One thing is certain: a man does not become bad just because he desires. Social misconduct is deeply rooted to penury, which starts inside womb of an undernourished mother; from the bowels of women without a piece of bread, becoming pregnant but not loved, generating children without care, home and family whose predictable destiny is the criminal underworld. The abandoned child is the scorn of our society; so shameful as human slavery. While problem progressively grows and escapes from control, governmental effectiveness is irresponsibly measured through sumptuous constructions, driven by human vanity.

Outsiders seem to be an unworthy and socially loathsome beings. However, an absolute truth must be proclaimed – nobody can expect dignity from misery

 

 

 

Misery no longer moves this town ...

 

Crazy, alcoholic or both, no one knows. People passing by Terreiro de Jesus yesterday witnessed, horrified, the sad scene: a man lying on the pavement, asleep, while a little child, around two years old, tryed to keep balance stuck to man´s neck. Not far from there, the cars passing, and not even the uncontrolled child´s wailing could wake up the irresponsible man. Nearby, two policemen watching the scene just smiled maybe thinking "there comes another pivete", while a group of street bums gave up of "kidnapping" the child due to presence of our photographer. As Salvador more and more develops the less humane it gets.

 (Tribuna da Bahia, November 29, 1985)

 

 

Doutor,

tenha pena do pivete

gente pequena se mete

cada bronca de enrascar

vivendo pela sarjeta

atrás de reles gorjeta

para a fome saciar.

 

Oh sir,

please have mercy on such kid

cause little people always tend

to screw up , be on the skids

to appease a hunger that never ends

eternally in search of tidbits

living in skid rows and streets.

 

Não sabe nem de onde veio

teve ventre sem ter seio

que do leite se nutrir

e cresceu a duras penas

assistindo cruas cenas

num barraco por cair.

 

No one knows his origin and past

he had the womb, but not the breast

where children are fed with milk and love

raised completely deprived

watching cruel scenes

under falling huts and ruins.

 

Muitos deles vão a pique.

De dez, talvez só um fique

em cada safra anual.

0 pivete é o superboy,

a sobra viva que dói

da seleção social

 

Many of them will not survive.

In the annual crops and harvests

among ten, only one will be alive.

The boy is now the superboy,

becoming the live painful rest

of such rough social contest.

 

Não escolheu vir ao mundo,

quanto mais ser vagabundo

perambulando ao léu.

Dormindo junto as escadas,

por debaixo das sacadas

tendo as cobertas no céu.

 

He did not choose to be in this life,

sleeping under stairs or balconies

he did not choose to be a riff-raff.

Loosing and hanging around,

he really doesn´t know why

his blanket is always only the sky.

 

 

 

Many of them were born right there in a 2 per 2 meter - straw-and - plastic hut, with no kind of refinement like a midwife. Others came from "homes" of Salvador skid rows and now they are members of Malvinas slum´s infantile army, which comprises around 15 thousand children. Idle, potbellied, spotted skin, noses always dripping, lukewarm eyes, and dust covered, these children are absolutely deprived of food, school, leisure, security and dwelling.

(Tribuna da Bahia, April 21, 1987, by Jane Katia)

 

 

Muitos são novos pequenos,

tão frágeis e tão amenos,

que nos despertam emoção,

quando magrinhos, espertos,

se achegam, lábios abertos

e nos estendem a mão.

 

Many are so fragile, so sweet,

so little and so young,

arousing our feelings to deep,

when they slyly come closer,

tiny, smartie and naughty

with hands open and wet lips.

 

Outros, são menos franzinos,

taludos, mas sempre finos.

Fortes, gordos, nunca e nem.

E fácil ver as costelas

e as dentaduras banguelas

pois que dentes não mais tem

 

Others, are not so fragile,

neither attractive nor lean.

Brute, corpulent and strong.

Their ribs are never seen

only a gap-toothed mouth

scaring us to the death.

 

0 cabelo em desalinho,

antítese do arminho

não conhece pente, não.

A pele sebosa fica

coberta de tiririca

sem nunca ver um sabão.

 

Disheveled and untidy hair,

antithesis of an ermine

with fur blowing in the air.

Doesn´t know of comb or something

soap he has never seen

always with oily and filthy skin.

 

Só toma banho de chuva,

não come rnaçã nem uva

água bebe sem filtrar.

Usa o terreno baldio

até mesmo o meio fio

pra defecar e mijar.

 

Shower ... only in the rain,

apples or grapes… not even a grain

never drink filtered waters.

Using dirty vacant lots,

sordid curbs and gutters

to defecate and urinate.

 

 

 

 
Minor burnt to death

 

" .... material authors of murder committed last Friday dawn were identified. A minor sleeping under Cairu Square ´s stairs, nearby Lacerda Elevator, had his body drenched with coal oil and burned. It seems to be an act of revenge performed  by rival gang of street boys.

(From newspapers of Salvador, Bahia)

 

 

Pivete come na rua

sob o sol ou sob a lua

qualquer bocado ou farnel,

uma sobra de cozinha

da lanchonete vizinha,

esparramada em papel.

 

When a pivete eats

table is on the streets

under the sun, under the moon,

biting pieces of something

strewed over newpaper sheets,

leftovers from a cafeteria´s spoon.

 

Escola, é o mundo em que vive.

Professor, que eu nunca tive,

é o pivete maior

que traça a regra da turma

onde acorde e onde durma

cada pivete menor.

 

The school, is the world he lives.

The teacher is the older rough boy,

who rules the world and gives

a place where to wake up

a place where to sleep

to every weaker and younger kid.

 

Nessa encarnada miséria

cada um tira sua féria

o seu modo de viver.

Vai ao fundo, sobe ao pódio,

caldeia amizade e ódio

curte lutar e sofrer.

 

From such dark misery

everyone takes their own receipts

alternates hell and heaven.

Melting hatred and friendships,

enjoying struggle and suffer

creating his own way of living.

 

Leva a vida a seu jeito

tem amigo que é do peito

tem inimigo mortal.

Pivete que é descuidado

acorda imortalizado

num fogaréu de jornal.

 

And thus, he runs the life

striking up with too close friends

rendering mortal enemies.

The one who sleeps carelessly

wakes up immortalized

by the flames of revenges.

 

 

Hundreds of abandoned minors on the streets try to get a job. As they are illiterate their best option is to wash car windscreens for a "dime". They also sell popsicles and peanuts. Others stand nearby supermarkets offering their services as bag carriers or car washers in the park. They can be the "guardians" of your car, just thumb "OK". This type of job or sub job is increasing. Unfortunately the number of children turning to criminal world is also increasing.

Dawning. The city´s just woken up. Homeless children, sleeping under marquees, are woken by the noise of cars and buses. Stores open the doors and shop owners chase kids away, and they are forced to try another place to stay. Uncertainty of streets is the place they´ll always find. There´s no other option after all…

(A Tarde, January 11, 1989 by André Curvello)

 

 

É assim a dura lida

em que se cultiva a vida

nesse ambiente cruel.

Cresce o crioulo enfezado

enquanto o moço educado

dança o Bolero Ravel.

 

In this sordid and cruel space

grows up the peevish negro

while in another place.

Unaware of  this existing hell

grows up the well educated guy

dancing the Bolero of Ravel.

 

Pára o carro, limusine,

bonito como vitrine

quando vermelho é o sinal.

Acode o pivete ligeiro:

– Doutor, eu cheguei primeiro,

deixa eu limpar o vitral.

 

Red signal, a car stops,

it´s a beautiful limousine

quickly comes the boy.

Excited in adrenaline

– Hey sir, I´m here first,

let me wash your limo glass.

 

Às vezes, você recusa

acha que essa gente abusa

nem sequer olha o coitado

quando molha o parabrisa

e com bucha velha o alisa

pra receber um trocado.

 

Sometimes you want to refuse

Cause you feel like being abused

you´d rather not look at the face

who´s soaping your screen with no grace

holding an old and dirty piece of cloth

just to receive a single change.

 

 

Desassistência, pobreza,

indiferença, avareza,

ingredientes do mal.

E aquele irmão da gente

vai ficando adolescente

nesse abandono total.

 

Disregard, greed and avarice,

Despise, poverty and indifference,

And other words so unspeakable

All these ingredients of evil

providing to that our " brother"

the most abandoned adolescence.

 

 

 

"And here also lives the Captains of Sands´ Leader: Pedro Bala. Early soon he got this nickname, since he was five. Now he is fifteen years old. He has been messing around in Bahia streets for ten years.

Never heard about his mother. The father was shot dead.

………………………………………………………….

All recognized Pedro Bala´s leadership of the Captains of Sands by right. Since then, the city started to hear about Captains of Sands, the abandoned children living by thefts".

 (Captains of the Sands, by Jorge Amado, 1912)

 

 

Chega o momento, decerto,

em que o solto riso aberto

perde a inocência servil.

A revolta cala fundo

e o pivete enxerga o mundo

como um nojento covil.

 

Here comes the time ,for sure,

he loses servile innocence

forgets open laugh and heart.

Replaced by hate and revulsion

and starts to view this world

as a disgusting den of iniquity.

 

Clama a Deus pela justiça

mas do céu nada Ihe atiça

em sufrágio, o Criador.

E o pivete, sem socorro,

reverbera: – Eu mato e morro,

só me resta o desamor!...

 

Claiming Lord for justice

but Heaven is not responsive

all his prayers were in vain.

Lost, lonely and helpless

reverberates and cries: – I´ll kill, I´ll dye

cause all I have  is disdain! …

 

A revolta clara fica

e a falta de eco implica

nas atitudes que eu sei.

Aquilo que se Ihe nega

vai ser cobrado em refrega

do pivete contra a Lei.

 

A clear revulsion prevails

as a lousy response

to the silent indifference.

What was refused to me

invoiced with interests will be

in my vendetta against society.

 

0 mundo cão se transforma

no viver fora da norma

do contexto social,

nessa ironia nefasta

que o pivete mais afasta

e o condena a marginal.

The hard life is  now ruled by

my own laws and regulations

completely off and  outside,

from current social context

that´s the malign irony

of misfits and renegades.

 

 

 

 

He appeared to be a forteen year boy and his coldness has surprised even the most experienced police officers. The boy commanded seven thieves to rob a bank yesterday afternoon, by intimidating present customers and disarming two guards. While leaving the bank he said ironically: "Thanks and sorry for inconveniences"

(A Tarde, November 11, 1986)

 

 

Começa a vida do crime

da qual jamais se redime

por não encontrar solução.

No subemprego é "garfado"

no desemprego é "safado",

solto na rua é "ladrão".

 

So his criminal life starts

with no more solution

with no more redemption.

Working he was the "scum"

unemployed he was a "no-good bum"

free on the streets he is a " thief".

 

Aprende a dar trombadinha

enganar almofadinha

farejar policial.

Cada vez que vai em cana

volta sempre com mais gana

de vingança pessoal.

 

Now, he knows much of cheating

how to mislead dandies and " chicks"

how to sniff cops and police.

Every time he is put into jail

harder becomes the rage

and the wish of personal revenge.

 

Com o futuro não mais sonha

sem ajuda da maconha

o pivete não tem vez.

Já rapaz ou homem feito,

agora não tem mais jeito

nem sim, nem não, nem talvez.

 

No more future or dreams

the present is now assured

by support of hemp or cannabis.

No longer a kid, just a grown man

There´s nothing else to say

no hope, no place, no way.

Matar, roubar, são caminhos ...

no seu roteiro de espinhos,

as glorias são seu algoz.

Passa a viver na maloca

sair à noite da toca

como um felino feroz.

 

Killing and stealing is the path

in this journey full of thorns,

without glories, without pays.

Now he lives in a burrow

hidden by the night shadows

like a trapped wild beast.

 

 

 

Zé Piaba shot dead in the back

 

"A robber  nicknamed " Ze Piaba" was shot dead  by a 38 caliber bullet.

The deadman was identified as J.L.B, 23 years old, ….Probable guess is " file elimination" . Zé Piaba was involved with too dangerous criminals.

 (A Tarde, September 24, 1985)

 

 

 

E então... só resta a lembrança

do tempo bom, da bonança

que já de há muito passou.

Das gorjetas nos mercados,

dos vidros sujos lavados

do sorriso que acabou.

 

So … only rest the memories

from good times of calm seas 

a long, long time ago…

Great tips at supermarkets,

nice cars he had washed

laugher is forever vanished.

 

0 "berro" é o bom companheiro

dorme sob o travesseiro...

... não se confia em ninguém.

0 fim da vida está perto

na rota do tiro certo

disparado por alguém.

 

Now gun is the only companion

who sleeps under the pillow …

… doesn´t trust in anyone else..

Death he knows is getting closer

today he is the shooting target

someone surely will pull the trigger.

 

Depois do tiro... o transporte

... o passeio após a morte

para o Instituto Legal.

0 corpo, ninguém reclama,

na geladeira se chama

defunto ... número tal.

 

After the shots ... the transportation

... towards the final destination

his dead body no one claims.

Even vanished without a trace

corpse is now his name

And fridge the temporary space.

 

A cova rasa é o destino

daquele antigo menino

sem pai, sem mãe e sem lar

que da luta sem quartel

nos lega o amargo do fel

para ao omisso ofertar.

 

A hollow grave is the final place

for this ancient little boy

whithout father, mother or face

who has accomplished the mission

to leave us the  bitter legacy

of our shameful omission.

 

 

 

 

"My parents are alive, but I´m only fond of my mother. My father is in jail. I have 11 brothers and I never go home because of my eldest brother; he doesn´t like me and beats me a lot. When I´m too hungry the bakery´s man gives me some bread. I can write, do you wanna see?"

(W.R.N., 14 years old)

(A Tarde, January 11, by André Curvello)

 

 

Doutor,

tenha pena do pivete

gente pequena se mete

cada bronca de enrascar

vivendo pela sarjeta

atrás de reles gorjeta

para a fome saciar.

 

Oh sir,

please have mercy on such kid

cause little people always tend

to screw up, be on the skids

to appease a hunger that never ends

eternally in search of tidbits

living in skid rows and streets.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tradução: Lidia Maia



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