Fernando Pinto do Amaral
Fernando Pinto do Amaral Poems
The greatest motivation in his life
was perhaps curiosity.
It drove him on: he approached
...
Tonight I died many times over, waiting
for a sudden dream to come
and dance in the dark with my soul
as long as it were you who led
...
I don't know what a spirit is. No one
knows in depth the light of his own abyss
as at night the wind opens
the infinite doors of an empty
...
You'll be back here, you'll feel
the world's stupidity like a pendulum
striking the right hours
in the rhythm of days, weeks,
...
My contemporaries speak a lot
and say: "So, here's how it is"
in the brazen manner of ones fed
...
Lay down your arms, go on, stop giving in
to the wills of others manoeuvring you
like a lost pawn in this game
with no rules or truths which might dress you
...
Fernando Pinto do Amaral Biography
Fernando José Branco Pinto do Amaral is a poet, literary critic and university teacher. He holds a Ph.D. in Portuguese Literature. Since 1987 he teaches at the Faculty of Letters of the University of Lisbon and is currently Professor of Romance Literatures. He translated into Portuguese Les Fleurs du Mal from Baudelaire, Poèmes Saturniens from Verlaine and all Jorge Luis Borges’ poetry. As well as having published essays, a novel and short stories, he collaborated in several literary magazines and newspapers. His poetry collections include, among other titles, Poesia Reunida (2000), Pena Suspensa (2004), A Luz da Madrugada, (2007). His most recent novel is O Segredo de Leonardo Volpi (Dom Quixote, 2009) .)
The Best Poem Of Fernando Pinto do Amaral
Cardiology
The greatest motivation in his life
was perhaps curiosity.
It drove him on: he approached
every woman he met,
but he was only interested in their hearts.
He methodically followed this obsession
and like a child
with its favourite toy
he also wanted to see what was inside,
find out exactly how it worked,
to shred each hope in slow motion,
dissect with almost scientific rigour
each anguish, each unavowable desire,
till he felt the ever fresh taste
in each one of those cells.
After each experiment, he observed
the dismantled hearts
and, not being able to reassemble them,
he gathered them one by one into his breast.
It was a safe place
and holding so many pieces of other lives
pulsating out of step
he could at last believe
that he also had a heart.
Translation by Ana Hudson
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