The green dots poem (avec points dorés, y lunares rojos e mais bolinhas verdes)

English original, then French, then Spanish versions, somewhat different each from each. Plus, Carolina Rosenstein has graciously provided an excellent translation into Portuguese!

The green dots poem

Faces on feet, by William Eaton, 2019Let’s suppose your eye was such:
The world was covered in little green dots.
It’s not the cars you didn’t see,
The belly buttons or the hidden fees;
But something different you found there –
Grassy patterns, leafy circle shapes;
And so conclusions that you drew
To other humans seemed untrue.
And your politics – splattered, bosky –
Went to places their minds denied,
And those who you with kisses plied,
Your ardor theirs it seemed to miss.
Friendly you were and generous
Good-looking, skilled, at least somewhat;
But those green dots that you saw:
A curtain between you and the others –
Some unknown world, invisible delights?
Colorful your days, long your nights.

French

Poème tavelé de points dorés

Imagine ta vue particulièrement arrangée :
Ton monde couvert de points dorés.
Conducteurs imprudents tu repérais,
Et les ventres sexy et les frais cachés ;

Mais il restait l’étrange, le plus maculé,
Dans les motifs et nuances que toi tu voyais.
Et les conclusions isolées que tout seul arrivaient,
T’éloignaient des autres qui les ont fallu niées.

Tes opinions politiques souvent barbouillaient
Des vérités les autres aimaient avancées,
Et quand tu les osais chaudement embrasser –
Leur émail sans paillettes ton ardeur résistait.

Néanmoins, gentil tu étais et généreux,
Beau et compétent, au moins un petit peu,
Mais ces points flavescent qui ne jamais te laisseraient –
Comme un brise-bise taché, jauni et vieux,

Entre toi et un monde, des champs inexplorés.
Après les nuits longues, miroitent tes journées.

Spanish

El poema de lunares rojos

Su ojo suponga particularmente hecho,
Con lunares rojos el mundo cubierto.
Se podían ver los coches peligrosos,
Barrigas eróticas, cargos ocultos;

Pero había algo ¿manchado? -o diferente-
En sus patrones y formas, en sus matices,
Y a menudo sacaste ciertas conclusiones
Que ficticias a otros parecían extrañamente.

Y también su política fuertemente salpicada,
Sus verdades rojas, por otros negadas,
As if she were Kirsti, watercolor by William Eaton, 2019Y el calor, el hambre de sus caricias,
Inoportunas y frías para los demás.

Fuiste amable, fuiste generoso,
Guapo y hábil (al menos un poco),
Pero estos puntos rojos tan testarudos…
Una cortina opaca entre tu y el globo…

Los placeres invisibles del mundo desconocido;
Sus noches tan largas y sus días coloridos.

Portuguese

O poema das bolinhas verdes

Translation by Carolina Rosenstein

Vamos supor que seu olho era tal que:
O mundo estivesse coberto de bolinhas verdes
Não são os carros que você não viu
Os umbigos ou as taxas ocultas;
Mas alguma coisa diferente que você encontrou lá
Em padrões gramíneos e formas de folhagem;
E assim as conclusões que você tirou
Aos outros humanos pareciam falsas
E sua política sombria, emaranhada
Foi a lugares que as mentes deles recusavam,
E até aqueles que com beijos você subjulgou
Como seu ardor não tocava o deles
Gentil e generoso você era
Bonito, talentoso pelo menos um pouco;
Mas aquelas bolinhas verdes que você viu
Uma cortina entre seus vizinhos e você
Estranhos esses mundos, misteriosos os deleites.
Coloridos seus dias, longas suas noites.

— Poem(s) and drawings by William Eaton

Afterword

Having published this poem, I enjoyed coming across this comment from the former New York Yankee catcher Jorge Posada about his old teammate and friend, Derek Jeter:

In ’95, we were at spring training camp together and we hit it off,’’ Posada said. “He wanted the same things I wanted. We made each other better. We had the same personality. We see things different than most people. We saw guys partying or not playing the game the right way and didn’t want to be part of that.

— from Dan Martin, How Derek Jeter overcame Jorge Posada’s first impression, New York Post, January 20, 2020. Boldfacing is mine.

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