José Poem by Carlos Drummond de Andrade

José

Rating: 5.0


What now, José?
The party’s over,
the lights are off,
the crowd’s gone,
the night’s gone cold,
what now, José?
what now, you?
you without a name,
who mocks the others,
you who write poetry
who love, protest?
what now, José?

You have no wife,
you have no speech
you have no affection,
you can’t drink,
you can’t smoke,
you can’t even spit,
the night’s gone cold,
the day didn’t come,
the tram didn’t come,
laughter didn’t come
utopia didn’t come
and everything ended
and everything fled
and everything rotted
what now, José?

what now, José?
Your sweet words,
your instance of fever,
your feasting and fasting,
your library,
your gold mine,
your glass suit,
your incoherence,
your hate—what now?

Key in hand
you want to open the door,
but no door exists;
you want to die in the sea,
but the sea has dried;
you want to go to Minas
but Minas is no longer there.
José, what now?

If you screamed,
if you moaned,
if you played
a Viennese waltz,
if you slept,
if you tired,
if you died…
But you don’t die,
you’re stubborn, José!

Alone in the dark
like a wild animal,
without tradition,
without a naked wall
to lean against,
without a black horse
that flees galloping,
you march, José!
José, where to?

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Linda Kaastra 28 January 2021

goosebumps

0 0 Reply
Bruce Heagerty 21 October 2019

Hi, I've just been introduced to this thoughtful poem. As a Spanish speaker I was also intersted to look at the Portuguese and check the translation. The were a few improvements I'd make and one error. Proptesta? shouldn't translate as protest? but as " What do you propose? "

0 1 Reply
Jhon Baker 24 February 2018

instantly beautiful.

1 0 Reply
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