Lia Cachim

- Portugal -

Lia Cachim (Aveiro, 1997) studied in Coimbra, where she currently lives and works. With a degree in Philosophy and a Master's in Creative Writing, she began to dedicate herself to artistic and cultural projects during her studies. She is co-founder of the Apura festival, founder and editor of the art magazine AZAR and the experimental publishing project SUBSOLO. During her Master's programme, she created the course's digital literary magazine, Farpa. Her main professional occupation is production and co-curatorial work at Casa das Artes of the Bissaya Barreto Foundation, since 2024. She has published texts in the local magazine Cooletiva, in Poezine by the publisher Traça and on the brazilian platform Ruído Manifesto, and was the foreword author of the book Sangue Derramado by Duarte Filho da Mãe. She has published two poetry books, Pintar o 7 (2022) and Je t'aurais suivi en enfer (2024), the latter of which reached the final of the National Young Creators Showcase that same year.

Fragments from the preface to Je t’aurais suivi en enfer by Inês Francisco Jacob

“Lia coexists with silence, with the end of things, with devastation, the abyss, the mysticism of breath at the verge of extinction, with a colossal, absolute interest in fantastic creatures that clash through the nights, with the end, with the shadow, the demons and ghosts that accompany us. It is worth noting that body and shadow are not always different names for different glimpses—sometimes they are the matter and substance of the same entity.”

“From hell to the sun and from the sun to hell, Lia also pays tribute to the surreal and the surrealists, like Cruzeiro Seixas and Cesariny, two ghosts full of life, avid consumers of the night and its terrors, masters at postponing death, at skirting around it, at deceiving it.”

“There is a distance between the ‘I’ and the ‘I,’ and the shadow each person carries—the one visible to the naked eye and the internal one—but Lia writes texts that could belong to the now, to this spring of 2024, and also to the 1920s, for instance, or a little earlier. They carry an aura that seems impossible to reconcile with the digital, as if they were made of artifacts blurred by the voice of cigarillos and cigars, red lips stamping a wine glass, hands multiplying rings, and eyes smudged by the dusk of what’s to come—a farewell, a grimace, a suddenly open window inviting the wind into this enormous ballroom. A body in destruction, on the path to devastation or decline, yet with the matching desire to see what other days will bring in their lap, and how our body will face this new light, this retreat from darkness.”

Excerpt from the author’s master’s thesis project, Melancómica

“The melanchomic style I’ve been discovering in my practice is latent in the other books I’ve written, and it can even be traced in childhood notebooks. Its characteristics are now more clearly noticeable: the susceptibility and openness to deviations, the humorous tone, the volatile and intuitive use of everyday as well as literary language, the inward-facing laughter, the use of anagrams and wordplays that reveal but also blur the meanings of melanchomic experience. In my book Pintar o 7, published in 2022, the last two stanzas of the poem ‘Best Remedy: Silence’ already reveal this as-yet-unnamed style:

‘My tongue hurts from biting
the words I try to swallow
So I speak
and say it all—
like someone who forgets
that the best remedy is
silence—
//
and I suffer the consequences
of not knowing how to keep quiet’ (26).
And in the book Je t’aurais suivi en enfer, from June 2024, it becomes even more evident and present, especially in the non-meanings of the poems, where access to the abyss of enjoyment is uncovered, as in the poems ‘world map’ and ‘what does the bird sing?’

Earlier in this thesis, I’ve already concluded that writing poetry is choosing to remain in a place of immaturity, with a spirit always open to the games the universe invites us to play, to the possible and impossible games of language, to the subjectivities of beings. What remains now is to believe in another aspect of the poem ‘Lesson no. 1’: poetry is about perpetuating the (con)tradition of poets—and to keep writing in melanchomic contradiction, as the tradition of my making demands.”

More about the poet

Poetry

Within who I am / Em quem estou

Within who I am
I always look for who
I want to be with
Translated by João Concha
Em quem estou
sempre procuro com quem
quero estar
Hopper's spring / A primavera de Hopper

had loneliness truly known
the silence with no undertone
then summer wouldn’t rush to give
your ears the sounds that softly live
in whispers of the warming breeze
that lifts your dress with tease
and wraps all your senses
in the premonition of a boreal
summer
Translated by João Concha
se soubesse a solidão
o silêncio sem ruído
não se apressaria o verão
a dar aos teus ouvidos
murmúrios da brisa quente
que levanta teu vestido
e a todos teus sentidos
veste a premonição do verão
boreal
Love is / Amor é

Love is
finding a staircase and
wanting to climb
Translated by João Concha
Amor é
encontrar uma escada e
querer subir
Postman of joy in bloom / Carteiro da alegria em flor

Samuel always brought
good news in his backpack
and behind him walked the sun
never losing his track
longing for the time when he
was himself
the postman of joy in bloom
Translated by João Concha
Samuel sempre trazia
boa nova na mochila
e atrás de si caminhava o sol
que para toda a parte o seguia
saudoso do tempo em que era
ele mesmo
o carteiro da alegria em flor
Substance of desire / Matéria do desejo

A vein within me dies then fades away:
a tendency towards something
specific or perhaps astray —
parts of my metaphysical body die
and physically I fail to see my being
in what becomes the world’s attire:
the substance of desire
Translated by João Concha
Morre-me uma veia:
uma tendência para uma coisa qualquer
em específico ou talvez alheia –
morrem-me partes do corpo metafísico
e fisicamente não me vejo
na matéria das coisas que se constituem
matéria do desejo
Counting steps or sparrows / Contar passos ou pássaros

With the summery discontent comes
the drowning of the streams

the poor are guided by the walk
to the coast
walking barefoot on the asphalt to
find a sea too rough
and settle for the burying of their fingers
in the sand wet by dirty foam

the journey ends but never the
un-rest
and every day the path is the same
until someone miscounts the steps

the streams fall in the drowning
and the fool who made the mistake wasn’t
counting steps
he was counting sparrows

it was a conspiracy of the seagulls to reclaim
the shoreline
Translated by João Concha
No descontentamento veranil vem
o afogamento das massas

rege-se o pobre pela viagem a pé
até à costa
caminhando descalço no alcatrão para
encontrar um mar bravo demais
e se contentar com o enterrar de dedos
na areia molhada de espuma sarnenta

finda a viagem mas nunca o
des-descanso

e todos os dias o caminho é o mesmo
até que alguém conta mal os passos

caem as massas no afogamento
e o tolo que se enganou não contava
passos
contava pássaros

foi um complô das gaivotas para reconquistar
o areal
Mass grave / Vala comum

They die by the thousands —
and the cars march on
the graves the shrines
in a sluggish rush
as if pretending
that funeral elegies might serve
for more than kindling
for the fire
Mass graves no longer mean
to us — anything
and death is nothing more
than a signed paper string
to celebrate the grand achievement
of becoming statistical data
Translated by João Concha
Morrem aos milhares –
e seguem na marcha os carros
as campas os altares
numa pressa vagarenta
como que a fingir
que as elegias fúnebres servirão
para mais que acendalhas da
fogueira

As valas comuns já não nos
dizem nada
e a morte não passa de uma
declaração assinada
para celebrar o grande feito
que é tornar-se dado estatístico
Speaking terms / Relações cortadas

I said:
“I can’t imagine life without you”
and sanity didn’t reply

I believe we’re no longer on speaking terms
Translated by João Concha
Falei:
“Não imagino a vida sem ti"
e a sanidade não respondeu

Creio que estamos de relações cortadas
Will and duty / A vontade e o dever

For you I’d cross every parish between yours and mine –
I’d fight at the border checks
defying the nonsense and
staring straight down the barrel of a gun
pressed between will and duty
of handing you a single carnation and
set you free
Translated by João Concha
Por ti atravessaria todas as freguesias entre a tua e a minha –
lutaria no controlo de fronteiras
contestaria as baboseiras e
olharia de frente o cano de uma arma
pressionado contra a vontade e o dever
de te entregar um cravo e te
libertar
Black sea of optical illusion / Black sea of optical illusion

lose myself in the black sea
dense
immense
of rising and falling thoughts
mostly rising
and let the words roll
like waves
between two mouths
some mouths apart
Translated by João Concha
perder-me no mar negro
denso
imenso
de altos e baixos pensamentos
por regra altos
e deixar as palavras rolar
como ondas
entre duas bocas a bocas
de distância
Aquifers / Lençóis d’água

There are arms that turn to trees
and grow roots in my body,
as if I were the soil
and held within me all the
aquifers
Translated by João Concha
Há braços que se fazem árvores
e que criam raízes no meu corpo
como se eu fosse o solo
e em mim guardasse todos os
lençóis de água
Green years / Anos verdes

In the greenness of years gone by
a bitterness is born at the core
and the sea walls diminish
as the ocean rises in revolt
against years of torture

The sand retreats shrinking the beach
bursting at the seams
and the girl no longer fits in the wave’s playground —

nor in the green clothes
like wild seaweed
that hides the trash washed ashore
as time keeps moving on
in these now scarlet years
that were once lush
like the gone by green years
that feel to us so lost
Translated by João Concha
Na verdura dos anos fugidos
nasce no âmago a amargura
e os paredões vão encurtando
à medida que se revolta o oceano
contra os anos de tortura

O areal encolhe a praia que
rebenta pelas costuras
e a menina já não cabe no recreio das ondas –

como não cabe nas roupas verdes
como as algas rebeldes
que escondem o lixo que dá à costa
à medida que vai passando o tempo
nos anos que são agora escarlate mas
que já foram verdejantes
como os fugidos anos verdes
que me parecem tão distantes
Je t’aurais suivi en enfer / Je t’aurais suivi en enfer

We meet again
between presents and past
participles
on streets where we never walked
together

The cliff lies to the right. To the left
each of us walks a path towards
the long fall

You
with deafened ears and maddened eyes
of anticipation
break the memorial silence of things
and echo in the emptiness I stretch within myself:

Je t’aurais suivi en enfe
Translated by João Concha
Voltamos a encontrar-nos
entre presentes e particípios
passados
nas ruas pelas quais nunca passámos
juntos

O precipício está à direita. À esquerda
cada um avança caminho em direção
à longa queda

tu
de ouvidos moucos e olhos loucos
de antecipação
quebras no silêncio memorial das coisas
e ecoas no vazio que em mim faço estender:

Je t’aurais suivi en enfe
Danse macabre / Dança macabra

Don’t pretend you don’t know:
the moistened dust you catch
at the break of mist
is made of particles from another night
of ruined dreaming. But don’t worry:
that mist will blanket the firmament’s plain – the end
of the dream or the start of another ruin
stretched so far it can no longer be seen
or even imagined. I promise:
the vesper light will bring the slow sleep
of those abstract movements
of the macabre
Translated by João Concha
Não finjas que não sabes:
o pó humedecido que capturas no raiar
da bruma
são partículas de uma outra noite de sonho
em ruína. Também não te preocupes:
essa bruma cobrirá a planície do firmamento – o fim
do sonho ou o princípio de uma outra ruína
estendida até mais não ser vista
sequer imaginada. Prometo:
a luz vespertina trará o adormecimento
desses abstratos movimentos
macabros
Insomnia / Insónia

Between the warnings on cuts
and the ever-present omens of death
at night my skin becomes thirst and a home
to thousands of ants starving
for fire
   — the world is transforming
every second
   my body is no longer the same —
tiny flames consume my surface
from within, from without
and so an hour passes
another one then
another
Édith Piaf of the birds sings outside in my mind it’s rush hour of stop-and-go tired verses,
softened and almost moldy
Starting tomorrow I’ll stop drinking
coffee
   after five
Translated by João Concha
Entre os avisos de corte
e os invariáveis prenúncios de morte
a pele à noite torna-se sede e casa
para milhares de formigas esfomeadas
de fogo
– o mundo está em transformação
a cada segundo
               o meu corpo não é mais o mesmo –
pequenas labaredas engolem-me a superfície
desde dentro desde fora
assim se passa uma hora depois
outra depois
outra
a Édith Piaf dos pássaros canta na rua na minha mente é hora de ponta pára-arranca de versos cansados amolecidos quase bolorentos
A partir de amanhã não bebo mais
café
depois das cinco
Synesthetic failure / Falha sinestésica

I miss the taste of your words
in the soft scent I cannot hear
with hands that cannot see you
Translated by João Concha
Falta-me o sabor das tuas palavras
no cheiro macio que não ouço
com as mãos com que não te vejo
Fruition / Fruição

the habit that lingers
between lips that will
never touch
Translated by João Concha
o hábito que se encontra
entre os lábios que não
se tocarão
Passionfruit / Passionfruit

the passionfruit
slaughtered –
a vision for the artists
and the kinky
Translated by João Concha
the passionfruit
slaughtered –
a vision for the artists
and the kinky
How much salt / Quanto sal

How much salt fits on the tongue
that curls into verse?
There was a time I knew
the answer. Then,
I moved far from the sea
and this tongue forgot how to taste
the curling of the waves.
Translated by João Concha
Quanto sal cabe na língua
que se enrola em verso?

Houve um tempo em que soube
a resposta. Depois,
mudei-me para longe do mar
e esta língua perdeu o dom de saborear
o enrolar das ondas
Mephistopheles doesn’t _______ with goddesses / Mefistófeles não __________ com deusas

Mephistopheles appeared
at the dark corner of my dream
to remind me that the shadow
of the sloe
is kept for the grave
of the man-body-of-angel-
-wizard

and that my place
is outside the shadow
under the light
where the corner curves
and humanity is only a pact
between me and myself
Translated by João Concha
Apareceu Mefistófeles
na esquina escura do sonho
para me relembrar que a sombra
do abrunho
está guardada para a cova
do homem-corpo-de-anjo-
-bruxo

e que o meu lugar
é fora da sombra
debaixo da luz
onde a esquina é curva
e a humanidade é apenas pacto
entre mim e mim
Biography / Biografia

I wish I could write without biography
but in this century what has no face
does not exist

I find myself unwelcome in these
autobiographical times
in which the breath of others whispers to me
anonymity

I wish to be known by the hands
that write – constant
for the face is always something
removed – variable

I wish I could write with my eyelashes
but since I do not
and there is nothing all that special
about me
besides poetry
I wish I could write without biography
Translated by João Concha
Gostava de escrever sem biografia
mas neste século o que não tem rosto
não existe

dou-me por mal-vinda nestes tempos
autobiográficos
em que o sopro de outros me murmuram
o anonimato

gostava que me reconhecessem pelas mãos
que escrevem – constantes
porque o rosto é sempre um dado
retirado – variável

Gostava de escrever com as pestanas
mas como não o faço
e nada há de tão especial assim
em mim
para além da poesia
gostava de escrever sem biografia
What does the bird sing? / O que é que o pássaro canta?

the vertigo of blue as metaphor
Translated by João Concha
a vertigem do azul metafórico
A man says on the phone / Um homem diz ao telemóvel

You deleted it. But
the poem was not in vain
Translated by João Concha
Apagaste-o. Mas
o poema não foi em vão

Lia Cachim

- Portugal -

Poetry

Within who I am / Em quem estou

Hopper's spring / A primavera de Hopper

Love is / Amor é

Postman of joy in bloom / Carteiro da alegria em flor

Substance of desire / Matéria do desejo

Counting steps or sparrows / Contar passos ou pássaros

Mass grave / Vala comum

Speaking terms / Relações cortadas

Will and duty / A vontade e o dever

Black sea of optical illusion / Black sea of optical illusion

Aquifers / Lençóis d’água

Green years / Anos verdes

Je t’aurais suivi en enfer / Je t’aurais suivi en enfer

Danse macabre / Dança macabra

Insomnia / Insónia

Synesthetic failure / Falha sinestésica

Fruition / Fruição

Passionfruit / Passionfruit

How much salt / Quanto sal

Mephistopheles doesn’t _______ with goddesses / Mefistófeles não __________ com deusas

Biography / Biografia

What does the bird sing? / O que é que o pássaro canta?

A man says on the phone / Um homem diz ao telemóvel

Mephistopheles doesn’t _ with goddesses / Mefistófeles não ____ com deusas