Berimbau

—“Eu ja vivo enjoado” up to ‘quebra’— 

O sopro é do vento
    we keep moving sopro
and voice pass and later
    and earlier chords always
                                           take

   a turn to the percussive
or if they stay it’s in service
    of the beat of running
the percusion of meat
       and bones cracking
                                   dirt

     and when we press
  the chamber of the cabaça
        seca against our stomachs
    tighten the wire around its
                                           neck

      stretch it taut before
  striking with our sticks we
                                           run 

      clandestinos hiding in the
dark or light or stringing
                                        wire

   in streets full of tourists
         or accompanying the
                                      mouths

of gringo instructors
     who go ginga ginga ginga
 asking Angola or regional
                                        singing

      along with the radio
 um pedaço de arame
     um pedaço de pau de pé

                                          in 

     Toque de Angola
Toque de São Bento
          Pequeno Grande e de
Bimba Toque de Iuna we
                                        follow

         o compaço de aço
   o compaço do passo
o compaço da culpa do
                                     sol 

                                                   

After Nathaniel Mackey and Mestre Pastinha 

 

Copyright © 2018 Ananda Lima. This poem originally appeared in Hayden’s Ferry Review. Used with permission of the author.