Ana Guadalupe

Ana Guadalupe was born in 1985 in Paraná, Brazil. She has a degree in English and Portuguese from UEM and currently lives in São Paulo. Her first book, Relógio de Pulso (Wristwatch), was published by 7Letras in 2011. Her poems were featured in anthologies, literary websites and magazines in Brazil, Spain, Mexico and Chile. Visit her blog: http://welcomehomeroxy.interbarney.com/

—————————————————————-
lista de afazeres

aqui
bem
aqui as coisas continuam
as mesmas
mesmos copos de plástico
mesmos fios de cabelo castanho nos pratos
recolhidos rapidamente enquanto
um de nós serve
o almoço

to do list

here
well
here things continue
the same
same plastic cups
same brown threads of hair on plates
quickly removed
while one of us
serves lunch

—————————————————————-
queria ser a marisa tomei

analisar marisa
em mais um dos papéis
de esposa do traficante
amante do lutador de boxe
garçonete que se apaixona
pelo cardíaco triste e tímido
que tremerá de corpo inteiro
ao tocar a pele lisa e macia de marisa

marisa é vendedora de calcinhas
divorciada com filhos pequenos
dançarina no escuro das boates
marisa nunca está numa boa
e mesmo assim marisa se diverte
chega aos 60 com cara de 20
toma limonada e refrigerante
tiros sem perder o sorriso
facadas na sacada do flat
mais facadas numa quitinete

i wanted to be marisa tomei

to analyze marisa
in another role
as the wife of a drug dealer
boxer’s lover
waitress that falls in love
for the sad and timid cardiac
whose entire body will shake
from touching marisa’s soft and smooth skin

marisa is a seller of panties
divorced with small children
dancer in the dark of the clubs
marisa is never in a good mood
and even so marisa has fun
turns 60 looking like 20
takes lemonade and soda
shots without losing a smile
stabs on the apartment balcony
more stabbing in a kitchenette

—————————————————————-
guerra

tique nervoso
à espera de alguém
que venha

beber água
desabotoar as calças
jogar bola

atirar no macio
arrancar os músculos
acumular fôlego

pra sufocar
com o próprio peso
o peso do outro:

uma bigorna
um piano
um travesseiro

war

a nervous tick
waiting for someone
to come

to drink water
to unbutton pants
to play ball

to shoot softly
to pull muscles
to accumulate breath

to suffocate
under their own weight
the weight of another:

an anvil
a piano
a pillow

—————————————————————-
resultado da busca

melhor não
falar nada

a imaginar por
horas você triste
no ônibus

as pessoas rindo
da sua camisa
de banda

eu rindo
da sua camisa
de banda

eu rindo
das suas
camisas todas

melhor não
falar nada

a ficar procurando
seu nome
no google

search result

better not to
say anything

than imagine you
for hours sad
on the bus

people laughing
at your band
shirt

me laughing
at your band
shirt

me laughing
at all of
your shirts

better not to
say anything

than look up
your name
on google

—————————————————————-
chuva nos sapatos

a chuva dificulta
a semana que só íamos levando
como copo d’água da cozinha pro quarto
e do quarto pra cozinha
te peço que não leve pro banheiro
apenas pro interior do seu corpo
onde percorrerá vísceras que não percorro
monstro do lago e do pântano
a chuva interromperá de novo nosso único plano
mas cronometrará com cuidado o intervalo
entre você aí nos trilhos
e eu aqui aos solavancos

rain in your shoes

the rain worsens
the week we were only taking
like a glass of water from the kitchen to the bedroom
from the bedroom to the kitchen
i ask that you don’t take it to the bathroom
only to the inside of your body
where it’ll reach viscera that I can’t
monster of the pond and the swamp
the rain will interrupt our only plan
but carefully calculating the interval
between you there on the rails
and me here on the bumps

—————————————————————-

All poems were originally written in Portuguese by Ana Guadalupe.
All poems were translated by Ana Guadalupe and Jeremy Spencer.

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Scrambler Books presents…

new forms and meditations for the pressurized libertine monk by j/j hastain Glimpses by Neila Mezynski Everything is Quiet by Kendra Grant Malone long love poem with descriptive title by Matthew Savoca A Cake Appeared by Shane Jones Inconceivable Wilson by J.A. Tyler The Dwell by Eleanor Johnson Reanimated, Somehow by Valerie Loveland Rarer and More wonderful by Trevor Calvert

 

AVAILABLE TITLES:

new forms and meditations for the pressurized libertine monk by j/j hastain (2012)
Glimpses poetry by Neila Mezynski (2011)
Everything is Quiet poetry by Kendra Grant Malone (2010)
long love poem with descriptive title poetry by Matthew Savoca (2010)
A Cake Appeared poetry by Shane Jones (2010)
Inconceivable Wilson a novella by J.A. Tyler (2009)
The Dwell poetry by Eleanor Johnson (2009)
Reanimated, Somehow poetry by Valerie Loveland (2009)
Rarer and More Wonderful poetry by Trevor Calvert (2008)

FORTHCOMING TITLES:

Bluebird and Other Tattoos / Bluebird y Otros Tatuajes poetry by Luna Miguel (Feb. 2012) Bilingual edition
Corn Exchange poetry by Helen Vitoria (Spring 2012)
The Town of Shadows fiction by Lindsay Stern (2012)
You Private Person fiction by Richard Chiem (2012)
Wilson (Re)Conceived fiction by J.A. Tyler (Late 2012)
A Story short fiction by Neila Mezynski (2012)

 

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Translations

Starting in 2012 The Scrambler will feature writers from countries other than the USA. Selected writings from writers written in their native language as well as English translations of those selected pieces will be featured regularly and archived here. Stay tuned.

Ana Guadalupe was born in 1985 in Paraná, Brazil. She has a degree in English and Portuguese from UEM and currently lives in São Paulo. Her first book, Relógio de Pulso (Wristwatch), was published by 7Letras in 2011. Her poems were featured in anthologies, literary websites and magazines in Brazil, Spain, Mexico and Chile. Visit her blog: http://welcomehomeroxy.interbarney.com/

—————————————————————-
lista de afazeres

aqui
bem
aqui as coisas continuam
as mesmas
mesmos copos de plástico
mesmos fios de cabelo castanho nos pratos
recolhidos rapidamente enquanto
um de nós serve
o almoço

to do list

here
well
here things continue
the same
same plastic cups
same brown threads of hair on plates
quickly removed
while one of us
serves lunch

—————————————————————-
queria ser a marisa tomei

analisar marisa
em mais um dos papéis
de esposa do traficante
amante do lutador de boxe
garçonete que se apaixona
pelo cardíaco triste e tímido
que tremerá de corpo inteiro
ao tocar a pele lisa e macia de marisa

marisa é vendedora de calcinhas
divorciada com filhos pequenos
dançarina no escuro das boates
marisa nunca está numa boa
e mesmo assim marisa se diverte
chega aos 60 com cara de 20
toma limonada e refrigerante
tiros sem perder o sorriso
facadas na sacada do flat
mais facadas numa quitinete

i wanted to be marisa tomei

to analyze marisa
in another role
as the wife of a drug dealer
boxer’s lover
waitress that falls in love
for the sad and timid cardiac
whose entire body will shake
from touching marisa’s soft and smooth skin

marisa is a seller of panties
divorced with small children
dancer in the dark of the clubs
marisa is never in a good mood
and even so marisa has fun
turns 60 looking like 20
takes lemonade and soda
shots without losing a smile
stabs on the apartment balcony
more stabbing in a kitchenette

—————————————————————-
guerra

tique nervoso
à espera de alguém
que venha

beber água
desabotoar as calças
jogar bola

atirar no macio
arrancar os músculos
acumular fôlego

pra sufocar
com o próprio peso
o peso do outro:

uma bigorna
um piano
um travesseiro

war

a nervous tick
waiting for someone
to come

to drink water
to unbutton pants
to play ball

to shoot softly
to pull muscles
to accumulate breath

to suffocate
under their own weight
the weight of another:

an anvil
a piano
a pillow

—————————————————————-
resultado da busca

melhor não
falar nada

a imaginar por
horas você triste
no ônibus

as pessoas rindo
da sua camisa
de banda

eu rindo
da sua camisa
de banda

eu rindo
das suas
camisas todas

melhor não
falar nada

a ficar procurando
seu nome
no google

search result

better not to
say anything

than imagine you
for hours sad
on the bus

people laughing
at your band
shirt

me laughing
at your band
shirt

me laughing
at all of
your shirts

better not to
say anything

than look up
your name
on google

—————————————————————-
chuva nos sapatos

a chuva dificulta
a semana que só íamos levando
como copo d’água da cozinha pro quarto
e do quarto pra cozinha
te peço que não leve pro banheiro
apenas pro interior do seu corpo
onde percorrerá vísceras que não percorro
monstro do lago e do pântano
a chuva interromperá de novo nosso único plano
mas cronometrará com cuidado o intervalo
entre você aí nos trilhos
e eu aqui aos solavancos

rain in your shoes

the rain worsens
the week we were only taking
like a glass of water from the kitchen to the bedroom
from the bedroom to the kitchen
i ask that you don’t take it to the bathroom
only to the inside of your body
where it’ll reach viscera that I can’t
monster of the pond and the swamp
the rain will interrupt our only plan
but carefully calculating the interval
between you there on the rails
and me here on the bumps

—————————————————————-

All poems were originally written in Portuguese by Ana Guadalupe.
All poems were translated by Ana Guadalupe and Jeremy Spencer.

read more

Issue 52 – January/February 2012

poetry

4 poems by Sunshine Faggio

Casita by Aaron Dailey

8 poems by Virna Teixeira

terracotta by Meg Cameron

Switch by Ben Parker

fiction

IV – Substances Commonly Misused (an excerpt from The Quantum Manual of Style) by Brian Mihok

art

Various Characters & Riding the Shooting Star by Kiyasu Green

music

Playlist #30 compiled by Melanie Uyeda

reviews

The Three Musketeers a movie review by Heather Craig

Modern Family Season 2 a DVD review by Heather Craig

Dust, Spittle & Wind a book by Sanya Osha reviewed by Hillary Raphael

Yellow Fringe Dress by Neila Mezynski reviewed by Jeremy Spencer

read more