Apto 302

"Viu a primeira planta na feira, entre legumes. Comprou, botou na janela. Uma alegria viva, porém sozinha. Na semana seguinte comprou outra. Diferente, mais farta, não ocupava embora todo o espaço do peitoril. Seguidas vezes na feira comprou uma e outra planta. A casa habitava-se, sementes caindo dos vasos, germinando na poeira do chão, flores folhagens cipós estendendo raízes, formigas chegando pelas gretas, mal sobrando espaço para mover-se. Fez-se primavera entre sala e cozinha. Corria o regato da banheira. Num suspiro despiu-se, sentou-se na superfície esmaltada. Ao cabo de três dias esbranquiçaram afilados os dedos dos pés. Na manhã seguinte um caroço inchou a perna. Sete dias depois a pele luzidia rompeu-se em verde, primeira folha, enquanto outros brotos despontavam. Estonteada em meio as clorofilas recostou a cabeça e adormeceu. O corpo ramejava".

Marina Colasanti

She saw the first plant in the market, amongst vegetables. Bought it, let it by the window. A joy alive, but alone. The week after, bought another one. Different, richer, however, it did not filled the windowsill. Many times she bought a plant and yet one more. The house got itself inhabited, seeds falling from the vases, sprouting from the floor dust, flowers, leaves, branches and stretching roots, ants bursting from the cracks, barely leaving space for movement. The spring arised between the living and the kitchen. Ran the bathtub creek. With a sigh, she undressed herself, sit on the enameled surface. By the end of day three, the pale toes had gone shapened. A lump bumped from the leg the morning after. Seven days later, the shiny skin irrupted in green, first leaf, as other sprouts were pointing. Dazzled amidst chlorophylls, laid her head and fell asleep. The body had branched out.

This is my humble and free translation of a Marina Colasanti short story, called Apartment 302. She is a well known Brazilian writer and my wish is to share a tiny sample of her with the non-Portuguese readers of this blog.