Explore "Mancunima: the Hero with no Character" by Mario de Andrade on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Next day bright and early the hero, aching with longing for Ci, his lover who was unforgettable forevermore, pierced his lower lip and made the muiraquitã into a tembetá. He felt like he was gonna cry. He quickly called for his brothers, bid the Icamiabas farewell and took off.
They went roaming and ranging through all the forests over which Macunaíma now reigned. Everywhere they went he received tributes and was accompanied all the while by a retinue of red macaws and jandaya parakeets. On bitter nights he'd climb atop an açaí palm ripe with fruit as purple as his soul and contemplate the fetching figure of Ci up in the heavens. "My she-devil! " he'd moan. And oh how he suffered, oh! and he'd invoke the benevolent gods, while chanting canticles that went on and on . . .