A Poem by Dom Dinis

Rip Cohen, Thirty Two Cantigos d'amigo of Dom Dinis, Hispanic Seminary, 1987.

Dámaso Alonso and José Manuel Blecua, Antología de la Poesía Española: Lirica de Tipo Tradicional, 2nd ed., Ed. Gredos, 1964.

Dr. José Joaquim Nunes, Crestomatia Arcaica, 7th ed, Livraria Classica Editora, Lisboa, n.d. (first ed. 1921)

 

For reasons unknown to me, Portuguese-language literature has been sadly neglected in the greater world. Portuguese is easy to learn for anyone who knows Spanish or even French, and its literature, especially its poetry, has a distinct flavor of its own which makes the small effort well worthwhile.

Portuguese-Galician was the first vernacular literary language on the Iberian peninsula, and up until about 1350 was the primary literary language in Spain as well as Portugal.  Galicia is now part of Spain, but the local language is closer to Portuguese. During the period of the Reconquest, Galicia was one of the major European cultural centers, and for a thousand years Santiago_de_Compostela in Galicia has been one of Europe's most important pilgrimage destinations.

The Portuguese-Galician poetic tradition traces back to the kharjas of Muslim Andalusia -- short romance refrains attached to poems written in Arabic or Hebrew. (Presumably there was also an autonomous Romance poetry, but only these refrains have been preserved.) The Galician poetic style is one of the original sources of European poetry, independent of the Provencal and Italian traditions, and its influence has never entirely disappeared from Portuguese and Spanish poetry. Poems in the old Portuguese-Galician style (and the descendant poems in modern Spanish and Portuguese) have a lightness, quickness, and sharpness which is a welcome relief from the sludgy Italianate poems which are so unfortunately common in every European language.

Dom_Dinis of Portugal (1261-1325) was not only a great king, but also was one of the first great poets of the Portuguese language. His poem below (Cohen, #17, p 55) is one of my favorite poems in any language.

1
Levantou ss a velida
levantou ss alva
e vay lavar camisas
eno alto
vay las lavar alva

The pretty girl got up at dawn and went to wash blouses on the hill: she went to wash them white.


2
Levantou ss a louçana
levantou ss alva
e vay lavar delgadas
eno alto
vay las lavar alva


The lovely girl got up at dawn and went to wash linens up on the hill: she went to wash them white.


3
Vai lavar camisas
levantou ss alva
o vẽto lhas desvia
eno alto
vay las lavar alva



She went to wash blouses, she got up at dawn, but the wind scattered them, up on the hill, she went to wash them white.


4
E vai lavar delgadas
levantou ss alva
o vẽto lhas levava
eno alto
vay las lavar alva



She went to wash linens, she got up at dawn, but the wind carried them off, up on the hill: she went to wash them white.

5
O vẽto lhas desvia
levantou ss alva
meteu ss alva en hira
eno alto
vay las lavar alva


The wind scattered them, she got up at dawn, this made the dawn angry up on the hill: she went to wash them white.

6
O vẽto lhas desvia
levantou ss alva
meteu ss alva en sanha
eno alto
vay las lavar alva


The wind carried them off, she got up at dawn, this enraged the dawn up on the hill: she went to wash them white.


This poem might be called Parnassian, minimalist, or even concrete. It's built around a handful of repeating words alliterating on l and v
(levar / lavar / alva / velida: levar and alva each with two different meanings). Lines 2, 3, and 5 are identical in every stanza. Stanzas 2, 4, and 6 repeat stanzas 1, 3, and 5 identically except for one or two synonym-substitutions. The first line of stanzas 3 and 5 is a repetition of the third line of stanzas 1 and 3.  The chart below shows how seven lines of poetry were puffed up into a 30-line poem with the help of four synonym-substitutions.

The story told is slight, but it does have a mysterious air of sexual awakening, and possibly rape. (Some think alva meant the fair maiden, and not the dawn; and does delgadas suggest underthings?)   The content, without the repetitions, is merely this:
 

The beautiful girl got up at dawn and went up the hill to wash her laundry white. The wind scattered her laundry, and the dawn was furious.

I first read the poem standing by itself, but Rip Cohen has shown that it is a climactic point of a 32-poem sequence (in recognizable genres called called komos, renunciation, invitation, etc.) which depict various stages of courtship: parting, separation, fear of gossip, fear of betrayal, fear of abandonment, etc. The poem, miraculous as it is as a free-standing unit, gains greatly from this contexting.

Poems in highly repetitious forms often seem tiresome and forced, but the lightness and swiftness characteristic of the Galician canciones d'amigo (and the Peninsular lirica de tipo tradicional generally) allows this poem to be heard as pure music -- as successful a Parnassian poems as has ever been written. The content or "story" of the poem is more or less the same as that of an earlier, more conventional poem by Pero Meogo, but the masterful king has stripped the earlier poem down to its ambiguous, mysterious, minimalist essence.

Note: Cecile Lombard, the French translator  of Menina e Moca into French, says that one source says that eno alto means no alto mar ("in the ocean"), which makes more sense than going uphill to wash clothes. Rip Cohen translates "in the river"; according to my dictionary "eno alto" could mean "upstream." Furthermore, according to Cohen, the girl represents the Virgin Mary and the wind represents the Holy Spirit. This perfect poem is at the climactic place of the sequence, and is quite capable of bearing the added weight.

Two acrostics, one in Latin and one in Hebrew, lead to a startling conclusion: that this is no ordinary girl, but the Virgin Mary, and that her `friend' is the Holy Spirit. Both Mary's presence eno alto (at the river) and her less than enthusiastic reception of the Holy Spirit are related to traditions in the pseudo-gospels and medieval art. The song thus provides a daring portrayal of the annunciation, and is placed strategically at the centre of an organized sequence of cantigas d'amigo.

Portuguese Studies, Volume 22, Number 2, 1 September 2006 , pp. 173-187(15)

 http://www.ingentaconnect.com/content/mhra/pst/2006/00000022
/00000002/art00002;jsessionid=10axloblita2n.alice?

Appendix I

This chart gives the first stanza of the poem, but only the new material for each succeeding stanza. The word alva is repeated 12 times in a 112-word poem; on the average, each word in the poem is repeated almost four times.  
 

1. Levantou ss a velida / levantou ss alva / e vay lavar camisas  / eno alto / vay las lavar alva;

2 ** ** ** ** louçana / ** ** ** / ** ** ** delgadas / ** ** / ** ** ** **

3 ** ** **  / ** ** ** / o vẽto lhas desvia / ** ** / ** ** ** **

4 ** ** ** ** / ** ** ** / ** ** ** ** levava / ** ** / ** ** ** **

5 ** ** ** ** ** / ** ** ** / meteu ss alva en hira / ** ** / ** ** ** **

6 ** ** ** *** / ** ** ** / ** ** ** ** sanha / ** ** / ** ** ** **.

 

Appendix II

It's time to repeat my standard grumble about academic writing and publishing. Cohen's book has been invaluable to me, but it's not really accessible for someone who doesn't have a pretty good reading knowledge of Portuguese-Galician, as well as a rudimentary knowledge, at least,  of structuralist poetics. Cohen gives a lot of attention to questions of genre which are only  of academic interest, and only to those academics who are interested in producing a cross-cultural structuralist theory of literature.

Like Cao Chi and Aloysius Bertrand, Dom Dinis is a distinctive, powerful poet whose work is almost unknown in the English-speaking world. Cohen could have written a much better book which included everything in this book, but which added 50-100 pages including more complete translations of the poems, helpful comments on their language, and background information on Dom Dinis, the Galician-Portuguese school of poetry, and the delightful cancions d'amigo genre. His scholarly achievement would have been in no way diminished by these additions, but non-specialist readers would also have a book introducing them to the poet Dom Dinis, who deserves a bigger audience than he as yet has had. There is no good reason the better book was not written.

As always, I excuse Cohen personally, subject to correction, on the grounds that this is probably the write-up of his dissertation. PhD candidates are of unfree status, like serfs and helots,  and they cannot be held entirely responsible for their actions.  The problem lies with the academic establishment, which enforces toxic methodological rules banning appreciation, popularization, and humanism from literary studies.

Appendix III

Silmarrillion at Après moi le deluge (a wonderful site for anyone interested in literature, especially early Romance-language literature) has linked and has given me some new information. Here and here are two excellent sites dealing with the jarchas (kharjas above) -- the original texts are included.

Here is a pdf of an earlier poem by Pero Meogo upon which Dom Dinis drew. (Here is the html version). In this poem a deer surprises the girl, instead of the wind doing so. To me the king's poem is much subtler, more delicate, less formulaic, less predictable, and more mysterious than Pero's.

Here is a fascinating piece about the role of deer in pagan ceremonies --  tending toward orgy --  which survived into the Christian era. Deer play a sexual role in Chinese and Mongol symbolism too, though in Asia the deer seems to be female, whereas the European deer seem to be stags. (The most ancient Mongol ancestor was a fallow doe married to a grey wolf.)


Pero Meogo:

Levóus'a louçana

Levóus'a louçana,
levóus’a velida,
vai lavar cabelos
na fontana fría,
leda dos amores,
dos amores leda.


Levóus’a velida,
levóus’a louçana,
vai lavar cabelos
na fría fontana,
leda dos amores,
dos amores leda.

Vai lavar cabelos
na fontana fría,
passou seu amigo
que lhi ben quería,
leda dos amores,
dos amores leda.

Vai lavar cabelos
na fría fontana,
passa seu amigo
que muit’a amava,
leda dos amores,
dos amores leda.

Passa seu amigo
que lhi ben quería,
o cervo do monte
a augua volvía,
leda dos amores,
dos amores leda.

Passa seu amigo
que muito amava
o cervo do monte
volvía a augua,
leda dos amores,
dos amores leda

 

In the wilds there is a dead doe (Shih Ching #23)

In the wilds there is a dead doe;
With white rushes we cover her.
There was a lady longing for the spring;
A fair knight seduced her.

In the woods there is a clump of oaks,
And in the wilds a dead deer
With white rushes well bound;
There was a lady fair as jade. 

"Heigh, not so hasty, not so rough;
Heigh, do not touch my handkerchief. 
Take care, or the dog will bark."

The Shih Ching is the oldest Chinese poetry collection, and it has had a canonical role for 2500 years or more. It is thought that the present collection has been adapted to Confucian specifications from an earlier body of work which was more erotic and less puritanical; the last three lines are thought to be in the voice of the girl, who (during the pre-Confucian age) was quite happy to be seduced .

 

I am emersonj at gmail dot com.

Original materials copyright John J Emerson

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, 6 eno alto,