a nutshell: alternating between languages, these poems reflect Semedo’s dislocating experience of living in both Portuguese and Guinea-Bissau Creole (‘Criollo’)
a line: “But what signs to leave | The grandchildren of this century?”
an image: the poet declares that she’ll leave a message on parchment in this Portuguese language that she misunderstands
a thought: I found it interesting how most of the verses are formed of questions (not statements) – such as whether the poet will talk in Portuguese despite it denying her art or muse, which led me to learn from Wiki that Guinea-Bissau Creole is the country’s language of informal literature
a fact: born in 1959, Semedo went on to assume prominent roles including Minister of National Education and Minister of Health
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Fascinating this, for multilingual people, certain words, phrases, suit certain moods and feelings better, irrespective of the language, I imagine. Whilst my second language is learnt as an adult, and I don’t have that deep feel for it, I did once find myself writing a bilingual poem, which I liked doing. (It wasn’t very good, but gave me a tiny, small, beginning of an inkling of what the author here was thinking, although without the essential struggling between a ‘true’ language and a bigger, dominate one, like here); Very interesting anyway, and you can see it has got me thinking!
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…without even thinking of how that leaves the translator!
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So glad Semedo’s poetry got you thinking! You’ve also inspired me to have a go at writing a bilingual poem (Welsh/English) which I’ve never done before – I’ve always written in one or the other. Thanks for your wonderfully insightful comment as ever! 🙂
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