| home
Poem
Carlos Drummont de Andrade
José
What now, José ?
The party's over,
the lights are out,
the people are gone,
the night is cold,
what now, José ?
what do you say ?
nameless José,
who teases others,
who makes up verses,
who loves? Who quarrels ?
what now, José ?
You have no woman,
you've run out of words,
you've run out of love,
you can't drink anymore,
you can't smoke anymore,
you can't even spit,
the night is cold,
the day's not come,
the trolley's not come,
not come is utopia
and nobody's laughing
and everything's gone
and everything's stale,
what now José ?
What now, José ?
Your sweet talk,
your feasting and fasting,
your moment of fever,
your books,
your gold mines,
your suit of glass,
your incoherence,
your anger-what now ?
The key's in your hand,
you want to open the door,
there is no door;
you want to die in the sea,
the sea dried up;
you want to go to Minas,
Minas is gone;
José, what now ?
If you screamed,
if you wailed,
if you played a Vienna waltz,
if you slept,
if you tired,
if you died …
But you won't,
you're tough, José !
Alone in the dark
like a wild animal,
without a theogony,
without a bare wall to lean on,
without a black horse to ride off on,
you march, José !
But where, José ?
(English version from the book titled Travelling in the Family, selected poems by Carlos Drummont de Andrade- “José” poem translated by Mark Strand - The Ecco Press)