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“Poemas aos Homens do Nosso Tempo” por Hilda Hilst, “Poems for the Men of Our Time” by Hilda Hilst, Brazilian poet, Father-daughter relationship, Hilda Hilst Institute, São Paulo/Brazil
Entrance to Hilda Hilst Institute – Casa do Sol – Campinas – São Paulo – Brazil
My Poetry Corner May 2018 features an excerpt from “Poems for the Men of Our Time” (Poemas aos Homens do Nosso Tempo) by Brazilian poet, playwright, and novelist Hilda Hilst (1930-2004), born in Jaú in the interior of São Paulo, Southeast Brazil. Soon after her birth, her mother moved with her to Santos, a coastal city and port. Her father wanted a lover, not a wife. Having a girl child was “bad luck,” he told her mother. Hilda grew up determined to prove him wrong.
Hilda was seven years old when her mother revealed the truth: Her father suffered from paranoid schizophrenia. Her father’s mental illness and his frequent internment over the years, until his death in 1966, had a profound effect on her poetry and fiction which often drew upon themes of intimacy and insanity with elements of magical realism.
I initiated dialogue a thousand times. It is hopeless.
I prepare and accept myself
Flesh and spirit undone. We could try,
My father, the unequal and tortured poem,
And embrace each other in silence. In secret.
~ Final stanza, “Of the joyful and very unhappy love – 1,” Exercises by Hilda Hilst, 2001.
Though her first love was poetry, like her father, Hilst followed her mother’s advice and studied law at the University of São Paulo (1948-1952). During this period, she published her first two poetry collections (1950 & 1951). After working for a year at an attorney’s office in São Paulo, she abandoned law for the writer’s life.
I sought light and love. Human, attentive
Like someone who seeks the mouth in the boundaries of thirst.
//
And everything I found I tell you now:
Another faceless person. Rough. Blind.
The architect of these traps.
~ Excerpt, “Life of My Soul,” Songs of Loss and Predilection by Hilda Hilst, 1983.
Hilst lived the jet set life, traveling to Argentina, Chile, Europe, and New York. Her beauty attracted the rich and the famous of Brazilian high society and Hollywood stars like Dean Martin and Tony Curtis. She published five more poetry collections, receiving the São Paulo Pen Club Award in 1962. Then in 1965, at 35 years old, she left her active social life to dedicate her time to her literary work.
Library of Hilda Hilst – Casa do Sol – Campinas – São Paulo – Brazil
(Photos in left foreground: Hilda’s Father, Hilda with her Mother)
I had to be alone to understand everything, to unlearn and to understand again. That life I had was very easy, a life of only fun, of lovers.
~ Hilda Hilst in interview with the Moreira Salles Institute, 1999.
On her mother’s property in Campinas, she built her country house, named “Casa do Sol” (House of the Sun), and began living with an Italian sculptor whom she married in 1968. Frequented by artists of all stripes, her house became a center for cultural fomentation during the seventies and eighties.
Living Room of Hilda Hilst – Casa do Sol – Campinas – São Paulo – Brazil
The featured excerpt from “Poems for the Men of Our Time,” first published in 1974, remains relevant to our own time of growing global inequality and endless wars.
Beloved life, my death lingers
What to say to man
What journey to propose? Kings, ministers
And all of you, politicians,
What word besides gold and darkness
Stays in your ears?
Besides your RAPACITY
What do you know
Of the souls of men?
Gold, conquest, profit, deception
And our bones
And the blood of peoples
And the lives of men
Between your teeth.
She invites poets, writers, philosophers, alchemists, and other voices to engage in the political process and policy-making.
To meet you, Man of my time,
And in the hope you may subdue
The rosette of fire, hatred, and wars,
I will sing to you eternally in the hope of knowing you one day
And invite the poet and all those lovers of words, and the others,
Alchemists, to sit with you at your table.
Things will be simple and round, fair. I will sing to you
My own crudeness and earlier unease,
Appearances, the lacerated love of men
My own love is yours
The mystery of the rivers, earth, seed.
I will sing to you the One who made me a poet and promised me
Compassion and tenderness and peace on Earth
If within you still resides these gifts he gave you.
To read the featured poem in its original Portuguese and learn more about the work of Hilda Hilst, go to my Poetry Corner May 2018.
NOTE: All translations from Portuguese to English done by Rosaliene Bacchus.
PHOTOS: All photos and more of the Hilda Hilst Institute are available on Brasil Online.
I enjoyed that and thank you. I had not heard of Hilda Hilst but her idea of having poets and writers take a bigger part in politics is a good one. I wonder if Donald Trump has ever written any poetry? I bet it’s brilliant if he has.
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Glad you enjoyed Hilst’s work, John. There’s so much more about her irreverent personality and scope of her work that I couldn’t share in such a short post.
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Hopefully compassion and tenderness and peace on earth are still gifts that reside in all of us. Thanks for introducing me to Hilda.
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Bernadette, in her day, Hilst was a woman who rocked.
I ask myself: How many of us humans have to raise our level of consciousness – to become more compassionate, tender, peace-loving – to “subdue / the rosette of fire, hatred, and wars”?
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The down side to your question is that most of us have to raise our level of consciousness. The upside is that most of us are capable of raising our consciousness if we just make it a priority in our lives.
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Rosaliene,
The poet and your translation are both impressive. Sounds like Hilda led a rich and varied life. Your depiction is warm and alive.
By the way, I caught some of a Brazilian music show, with artisans singing in other languages, too, like French. The music was excellent and made me think of you.
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Thanks, Katharine. Whenever there’s material – biographies, videos, interviews, most popular poems – available online about a poet, I’m able to gain a greater sense of who they are/were and to make a personal connection.
In the 1999 interview, at 69 years old, Hilst expressed complete certainty that her father, who had rejected her at birth, would have understood and appreciated her body of work.
“Sometimes I’m saddened that I’ve been able to do that [succeed as a poet], what he [her father] did not do,” Hilst told the interviewer.
Beyond the great poetry that she’s gifted to us, Hildst’s life demonstrated to me that our success in whatever we do is determined by our passion and motivation, and the willingness to make the sacrifices needed to achieve our goals.
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Rosaliene,
Your posts reflect your belief in the power of passion and motivation. Hildst’s story also leads me to think about genetic transference of talents and even of passion and motivation. That she could accomplish what her father couldn’t makes his life more meaningful as well, should we choose to look at it that way.
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Quite a lady!
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She sure was.
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Another fascinating individual Rosaliene, if anyone can find them it’s you!
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Reblogged this on Guyanese Online.
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Thanks for sharing, Cyril. Have a great week 🙂
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Pingback: “Poems for the Men of Our Time” by Brazilian Poet Hilda Hilst
Thanks for sharing, GuyFrog. Always much appreciated 🙂
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Great post, Rosaliene. This reminds me I’ve been meaning to ask you – do you think Lula is guilty?
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Thanks, Dr. Bramhall.
I don’t think he’s guilty. The right-wing opposition know that they can’t win the coming elections if he runs for the Workers Party.
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Glad you’ve brought Hilda Hilst to our attention … and in such a sensitive, emotional poetic gesture. Reminds me of our Martin Carter:
I come from the nigger yard
I turn to the histories of men and the lives of peoples.
I examine the shower of sparks the wealth of the dreams.
I am pleased with the glories and sad with the sorrows
rich with the riches, poor with the loss.
TFS, Rosaliene.
Leonard Dabydeen
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Leonard, thanks for reading 🙂
Yes, “I Come from the Nigger Yard” is one of Martin Carter’s most powerful poems. We are all poorer with the inability of our species to share the wealth of Earth.
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Thank you, Rosaliene. If you enjoy magical realism, you might want to read the Jorge Luis Borges short story, “The Aleph.” Dazzling.
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Thanks for the recommendation, Dr. Stein. I’ll check it out.
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Amazing stuff. What a brilliantly gifted person.
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Shift, glad you enjoyed Hilst’s poetry =)
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Awe-inspiring.
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Quote: “I had to be alone to understand everything, to unlearn and to understand again.” For those who would learn to understand, that is the only path I know of: detachment. Certainly not a favourite concept of average humanity. The most difficult aspect of detachment is doing it, not in some distant, mountain hideaway as a nun with a vow of silence, but right here, in the midst of it all, with family, friends and neighbours all vying for a chunk of “me” that they believe they own and NOT GIVING IT TO THEM. Then doing it with compassion, in humility, not with any sense of superiority that thinks, ‘I know something you don’t and I’m better than you for it.’
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Thanks for that inspiring research summary, which sparked my interest in learning more about Hilda Hilst.
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She was quite a woman and poet!
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Did some catching up as I was off line for quite a long time this year. Thank you for the food for thoughts.
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Always a pleasure to have you drop by, Inese 🙂
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Even in this day and age, there remains a mentality out there, albeit perhaps subconsciously: Men can take care of themselves against sexual perpetrators, and boys are basically little men. The same mentality that might reflect why the book Childhood Disrupted was only able to include one man among its six interviewed adult subjects, there being such a small pool of ACE-traumatized men willing to formally tell his own story of childhood abuse.
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