At nightfall when you sway
among your long lanceolate leaves
passion overwhelms me at your blossoming
flowers, wandering, flashy hermaphrodite
yellow maracują, maracujį-blue.
But soon you detach from your stem, that delicate
cylinder, you lose your flower for ever,
beseeching to no avail, leaf-covered
a green sound softly fades out.
Flower, you light up your branches
in the early morning rhythms
bird song and faraway drumming
of crickets - then you fall and die
so that the fruit may be born:
the forest opens its mouth wide
to receive you in the damp soil
inside the Kuluené, the Great Xingś
your petals strewn over the waves.
Márcia Theóphilo, 2000
English version by Riccardo Duranti