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xxx.xviii.mmi

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germina a eglantine mercurina à luz d’uma augustina matina...

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“from there, dressed in his saffron mantle, hymen

went on his way, traversed the boundless heavens

until he came to thrace, where he’d been summoned

by the voice of orpheus — to no avail,

for though the god appeared, he did not bring

the words that customary use has sanctioned,

nor countenances radiating joy,

nor omens of good fortune for the couple;

even the torch he carried merely sputtered,

emitting only tear-producing smoke,

not catching fire when he whirled it round.

and the aftermath was even more unpleasant,

for as the bride was strolling through the grass,

attended by the naiads, she dropped dead,

bitten on her ankle by a snake.”

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héloïse

“they were nearing the surface, approaching the threshold, when, fearing losing eurydice and impatient to see her, her loving spouse turned.”

sophie

“no, he can’t look at her for fear of losing her. that’s no reason. he was told not to do that.”

héloïse

“he’s madly in love. he can’t resist.”

marianne

“i think sophie has a point. he could resist. his reasons aren’t serious. perhaps he makes a choice.”

sophie

“what choice?”

marianne

“he chooses the memory of her. that’s why he turns. he doesn’t make the lover’s choice, but the poet’s.”

héloïse

“she spoke a last farewell that scarcely reached his ears and fell back into the abyss. perhaps she was the one who said, ‘turn around’.”

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“eurydice was called up from her place

among the newly dead, and awkwardly

came forward, limping from her recent wound.

the thracian bard accepted her, together

with the condition set for her release:

that he may not look back at all, until

he’d exited the valley of avernus,

on pain of revocation of this gift.

he started out upon the soundless path

that rises steeply through dense fog and darkness

until they had come almost to the border

of the upper earth; here orpheus, afraid

that she would fail him, and desiring

a glimpse of his beloved, turned to look:

at once she slipped back to the underworld,

and he, because he wanted to embrace her,

or be embraced by her, stretched out his arms —

but seized on nothing, that unlucky man,

unless it was the abnegating air.”

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eὐρυδίκη, μπιάκα

“amada pequenina, cantarolo-te cantinelas orféticas,

veladas, entoadas, edulcoradas liras ébrias

a ti, minh’eurídice finada, pois és ao meu mirar vedada…”

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