If you enjoyed the Gambozinos post the other day, you might be interested in this t-shirt I spotted today. Enjoy the many fun conversations that it will spark!
Category: English
O Cuidado Dos Pássaros
Just a quick interlude to discuss this book. It’s one of three i bought by the same author and, unlike the others, it’s mainly in English, but it’s a bilingual edition with portuguese dialogue in notes at the bottom of the grid.
It’s quite a hard read though. The main character is a paedophile who’s trying to get through his life without harming anyone. It’s… An original idea for a book, but if you like your protagonists to be sympathetic people you can relate to you won’t find that here!
The other books I bought by him are Cartas Inglesas, which I reviewed a few days ago and Gente Remota, which I just finished today. I’ll be posting that review in a couple of days from now but spoiler alert) it’s definitely the pick of the crop!
Rapaz Delight
I posted a rap featuring Sam the Kid a while ago, but I need to prove I’m down with the kids, so here’s another! I think last time I used too many asterisks, so I’ll try and use links where I can this time.
This one is called “Também Faz Parte”. The first verse, by Sam the Kid himself, is really hard and I suspect I am getting quite a bit of it wrong. Mundo Segundo’s verse is much easier to follow.
| Portuguese | English |
| (Sam the Kid) Quando a vida ficar vazia, faz ela virar poesia O passado passou ‘pa trás, o teu prazo passou num dia O fracasso tá ali na porta, quase dormiu na merda Ele passa uma vida morta, e abraça que é o fim da meta É o massacre que só humilha, cansado que o sol não brilha Arrasado e ele só dormia a pensar abraçar a filha E os homens levam-me os tropas Boy, na zona é só desfalques Paka limpa só funciona noutros palcos Gravatas invisiveis não querem mais milionários E tornam impossíveis cenários imaginários Mas não tiram minha mística, sou atração turística Desmistifico quem pensa que em bairros só há marginais, todos iguais Por mais que inoves, a tua sina é ser da mesma escória E putos trazem uma visão nova para a mesma história Pais falidos fazem mais bandidos Quem patrocina agora a casa é o filho de pais maridos Um gajo na boa vem Ramona, a gente “esfaina” Na estrada, a gente espalha a zona, a gente “shaina” A judiciária que espreita por ‘tar na área É suspeita a missão diária para ver toda a nossa área desfeita Novas doutrinas, que alteram rotinas à procura de vidas londrinas Um boy obrigado a ter emigrado e o bairro ainda é unido e bravo Onde eu gravo o meu vídeo, agrado o passado p’ra no futuro ser lembrado Esse é o meu fado | (Sam the Kid) When life is empty, turn it into poetry The past is gone behind, your goal passed in a day Weakness is there at the door, almost asleep in the shit He lives a dead life and embraces the end It’s the massacre that only humiliates, tired because the sun isn’t shining Devastated and he was only asleep, dreaming of hugging his daughter And men bring their crew to me Homeboy, in the neighbourhood, there’s only the hustle Too clean only works on other stages Invisible neckties don’t want more millionaires And make imaginary scenarios impossible But they don’t take my music, I’m a tourist attraction I demystify anyone who thinks that in the neighbourhood there are only marginalised people, all the same No matter how much you innovate, your destiny is to be the same scum And kids bring a new vision for the same story Skint parents make more criminals The person protecting the house now is the child of married parents A cool guy, here comes a police car, the people “It’s fine“* In the street, the people spread out, the people “Shine!” The Judicial Police that look to be in the area It’s suspicious , the daily mission to see our whole neighbourhood pulled apart New doctrines, that alter routines, in search of London lives A homey forced to emigrate and the neighbourhood is still united and brave Where I’m recording my video, I thank the past to be remembered in future That’s my fate. |
| Também faz parte Pensei num péssimo indício e disse-o P’ra vir encarar à pressa ou começa no sacrifício Em cada fim há um início, em cada início uma história É hipótese duma nova trajetória, porque a glória (x2) | It plays a part too I thought of a bad sign and said it To come face to face with it in a hurry or start with sacrifice In every end there is a beginning, in every beginning a history It is the chance of a new direction, because of the glory (x2) |
| (Mundo Segundo) Também vim do bairro mas não do bloco, eu cresci na ilha Onde a miséria aponta o foco mas onde há fome há partilha Onde um prato dá para quatro, um quarto p’ra família inteira Duas camas, berço, terço na mesa de cabeceira Um ordenado, uma pensão, rendimento de inserção Uma criança como um dom num castelo de papelão Um futuro que não sorri numa bela face trancada como Um livro que não li com informação que faltava Mas não deixei de ser eu, fui do breu ao apogeu Fui do meu pequeno quarto aos palcos do coliseu Tudo faz parte, eu luto. Dizem que a vida é prostituta Mas apaixonei-me por ela a ver se a relação resulta Num certo ponto de vista, podem me chamar masoquista Mas não sou apologista de vitórias sem conquista Tenho sonhos numa lista, mais uma linha que se risca Na verdade só se despista aquele que se faz à pista Porque eu corro por desporto mas não me alimento de vento Fiz muito trabalho à borla, respeita o meu orçamento Direto sem ornamento, não político de parlamento Lamento não minto em detrimento que sinto por dentro Do ventre até ao jazigo, imperfeito assim prossigo Se partir, digam ao mundo “fechei a página deste livro” Em cada fim há um início, em cada início uma história É hipótese duma nova trajetória, porque a glória | (Mundo Segundo) I come from the hood too, but not the block, I grew up on the island, Where misery directs your focus, but where there is hunger there’s sharing Where a plate is enough for four and a bedroom for a whole family. Two beds, a crib, a rosary on the bedside table A wage, a pension, a social security payment A child like a king in a cardboard castle A future that doesn’t smile on a beautiful face, locked like A book I didn’t read, full of information I need But I didn’t stop being me, I went from the darkness to the heights I went from my little bedroom to the stage of the Coliseu Everything plays a part. I fight. They say that life is a prostitute But I fell in love with her to see if the relationship is a success From a certain point of view, you can call me a masochist But I’m not an apologist for victories without conquest I have a list of dreams, one more line gets crossed out In truth, only the person who stays on track loses the track Because I run for sport but I can’t eat the wind I did a lot of work for free. Respect my budget Straight up, without ornament, not a politician in parliament I’m sorry I don’t lie to the detriment of what I feel inside From the cradle to the grave, imperfect, I do it like that If you’re leaving, tell the world “I closed the page of that book” In every end there’s a start, in every start there’s a history It’s a chance of a new direction because of the glory |
| Também faz parte Pensei num péssimo indício e disse-o P’ra vir encarar à pressa ou começa no sacrifício Em cada fim há um início, em cada início uma história É hipótese duma nova trajetória, porque a glória (x2) | It plays a part too I thought of a bad sign and said it To come face to face with it in a hurry or start with sacrifice In every end there is a beginning, in every beginning a history It is the chance of a new direction, because of the glory (x2) |
If you want a more chilled version of that to cleanse the pallet, you could try this acoustic version by A Garota Não. The lyrics are heavily cut to make it fit the format but it’s really nice, as most of her stuff is.
Beetles
I like stag beetles and now I know what they’re called in portuguese!
Oh No He Didn’t…
Politicians are often prone to saying wildly inappropriate things in public and Marcelo Rebelo de Sousa is no exception. 😬
Stories.
O came across this passage and didn’t know quite what to make of it.
“Eu não adivinhei nada. E também não lhe disse que esta era a sua estória. Disse que era uma estória sua“
What’s the subtle difference between the two italicised phrases?
A sua estória = your story, the story of your life.
Uma estória sua = one of your stories.
Why estória and not história? I’m european portuguese, it’s a fancy way of saying a (fictional) story. História is the normal word for any history or story, whether fictional or not. I’m Brasil, it’s more straightforward: estória is fiction and história is non-fiction.
Chakras
After looking at that Da Weasel rap the other day, I thought maybe I’d try another so here we are. I returned to this video which I mentioned in passing a year or so ago. I thought the song was called Classe Crua, but Classe Crua is the name of the band, which is composed of Sam the Kid (he’s the white guy) and Beware Jack (tall hair). This song has a “feat” on it – with a guy called Chullage (woolly hat, big beard) (feat is short for “featuring”). Chullage is a form of Chulagem, the quality of being a Chulo: a pimp or a vulgar person.
It’s a challenging translation. It’s got crioula, french, english and street slang all the way through it, mixed together like a big old liguistic stew.
| Portuguese | English |
| Marés Frias, vento Forte, balançam o meu suporte Mas ganho equilíbrio na balança! Já não escrevo só reporto fotografias no meu bloco Imagens são a melhor referência Bad feeling não me move Só balança o meu suporte O beat entra, o flow cospe O beat entra, o flow cospe O beat entra, o flow cospe | Cold seas, strong wind, shakes the ground I’m standing on But I gain stability from the instability I don’t write, I only report photographs of my block Images are the best reference Bad feeling doesn’t move me Just shakes the ground I’m standing on The beat enters, the flow spits The beat enters, the flow spits The beat enters, the flow spits |
| Velho mar, barcos novos, velhos jogos, novos modos Velho passaporte, novo avião, nova escala Velho mapa, novas rotas Dou a volta ganho pernas como centopeias Descansa, tenho o nirvana nas veias Tiro-te as teimas, a cena é phat como Baleias Palavras bem usadas são uma Uzi, uma arma Calma, a nova expressão apaga o velho trauma São chagas da nossa Aura, mágoas da nossa alma Chakras do nosso karma Não há vivalma Que fique indiferente e se ficarem indiferentes Dá-me tempo “deixa-me rir” como o Jorge Palma O Sociólogo da nova escola, com a velha guarda A criar modas por aí a fora Com a velha fórmula na nova montra Keep it real p’ra zona aos que trocam sprints por maratonas | Old sea, new boats, old games, new styles Old passport, new plane, new scale Old map, new routes I go far a walk I get legs like centipedes Chill, I have nirvana in my veins I’ll take away your stubbornness, the scene is phat like whales Well used words, I’m an uzi, a weapon Calm down,the new expression wipes out the old trauma They are wounds on our aura, injuries on our soul Chakras of our karma There’s no living soul That will be indifferent, and if they’re indifferent Give me time, “let me laugh” like Jorge Palma* The sociologist of the new school with the old guard Creating methods out there With the old formula in the new shopfront Keep it real in the sone for people who swap sprints for marathons |
| Marés Frias, vento Forte, balançam o meu suporte Mas ganho equilíbrio na balança! Já não escrevo só reporto fotografias no meu bloco Imagens são a melhor referência Bad feeling não me move Só balança o meu suporte O beat entra, o flow cospe O beat entra, o flow cospe O beat entra, o flow cospe | Cold seas, strong wind, shakes the ground I’m standing on But I gain stability from the instability I don’t write, I only report photographs of my block Images are the best reference Bad feeling doesn’t move me Just shakes the ground I’m standing on The beat enters, the flow spits The beat enters, the flow spits The beat enters, the flow spits |
| Beware! I wanna be there Onde toda a gente é gente, e o que é bom é freeware Mas buéda** gente ’tá a ver magenta, a follow the líder Buéda gente vive à tangente A swallow o que houver Nhãs*** brodas usam a cabeça só p’ra por new wear E dizem-me “Chullage é uma new era” (Chulagi dja bu era) Deixam links, fazem clicks Bebem pink, fazem pics E mandam comments ‘Pa que te piques e o views atinjam peaks Na broda, been there Coolest monkeys in da jungle HM ou Pull And Bear Broda couldn’t bear Muita câmara Muito filtro, muito share, muito flair Tanto fait-divers**** Teresa May ou Tony Blair Same old same old, nique sa mere***** Novos governos, mesmo xaxos****** Novos alunos, as mesmas praxes Novos beats, os mesmos baixos Novos mc’s os memo chachos******* Tudo a tentar o encaixe Mas já nada sai da caixa Tudo tão aprumado que parece tudo Tão saído do terceiro Reich Versos controversos ‘Pa poder dar nas views Essa medalha tem reverso Tudo o mesmo point of view Buéda flow mas não é diverso Trágico como em Lampedusa Brodas acabam imersos Há uma festa no terraço Duma casa sem alicerces Fuck’em Fecho a matraca******** E alinho os chakras Escrevo linhas sacras Cansado de tantos wankers Galinhas e bácoras Meu pensamento entra no train A curtir Coltrane E mando rimas só por treino Giants steps A love supreme Estou fora do frame Ponho os fones, subo o gain, expulso o pain E mando um grito Tenho buéda fantasmas e por eles não tenho escrito Tens buéda fantasmas daqueles que te têm escrito Estás tipo Mc’Donalds Já vens da América feito Aqui só foste frito Digo o que sinto Novo ou proscrito E não preciso de ser seguido nem subscrito Já não rappo Só vomito Nunca omito Meu commitment Quando debito Foda-se Sam granda beat Foda-se Beware obrigado pelo convite! | Beware I wanna be there Where everybody is us and what’s good is freeware But a lot of people are seeing magenta to follow the leader A lot of people live at a tangent And swallow whatever there is And the brothers only use their heads to put on new wear And they tell me, “Chullage, it’s a new era” (Chulagi dja bu era) They post links, they make clicks They drink pink, they take pics Why do you bite, and your views hit peaks No brother, been there Coolest monkey in the jungle H+M or Pull and Bear Brother couldn’t bear Lots of camera Lots of filters, lots of shares, lots of flair Lots of other stuff Teresa May and Tony Blair Same old same old. fuck their mother New governments, same assholes New students, same hazing rituals New bears, same baselines New MCs, same guys Everything trying to fit in But now nothing gets outside the box Everything is so polished it all seems To have come from the Third Reich Controversial verses To be able to get views This medal has another side All from the same point of view Lots of flow, but it isn’t diverse Tragic like in Lampedusa Brothers end up immersed There’s a party on the terrace Of a house with no foundations Fuck ’em I’m shutting my mouth And aligning my chakras I write sacred lines Tired of so many wankers Chickens and piglets My thought gets on the train Enjoying Coltrane And rap some rhymes just for practice Giant Steps A Love Supreme I’m outside the frame I put on my headphones, turn up the gain, expel the pain And I let out a scream I have so many ghosts and because of them, I haven’t written You have so many ghosts the kind that write you You’re like McDonalds You came from America, ready made You were fried here I say what I feel New or forbidden And I don’t need to be followed or subscribed I don’t rap I just vomit I don’t omit Mu commitment When I debit Fuck it, Sam, great beat Fuck it, Beware, thanks for the invitation |
| [Refrão: Beware Jack] Marés Frias, vento Forte, balançam o meu suporte Mas ganho equilíbrio na balança! Já não escrevo só reporto fotografias no meu bloco Imagens são a melhor referência Bad feeling não me move Só balança o meu suporte O beat entra, o flow cospe O beat entra, o flow cospe O beat entra, o flow cospe | [Refrain by Beware jack] Cold seas, strong wind, shakes the ground I’m standing on But I gain stability from the instability I don’t write, I only report photographs of my block Images are the best reference Bad feeling doesn’t move me Just shakes the ground I’m standing on The beat enters, the flow spits The beat enters, the flow spits The beat enters, the flow spits |
* Reference to this song
** Lots of english in this verb, but lots of slang too. Buéda gente seems to be “bué da gente. Bué is slang derived from africa. I think it’s maybe not that new. I think bué fixe (“very cool” dates back a while, but bué is generally a reinforcer so it indicates a lot of something or very much something
***Crioulo Cabo Verdiano – short for minhas/meus
**** Dammit, this is french!!!
***** Dammit, so is this!
******Not sure abot this one but basing it on this.
********Seems to be short for the spanish word “muchachos”
********This word can have a lot of meanings. I’m assuming he’s talking about his mouth since none of the other options make much sense.
Say It In Portuguese Update
Interested to see a new course on offer from Say It In Portuguese (home of the very fine podcast about idiomatic expressions) which focuses on CAPLE exam technique. Bookmark that one for later…
I’m not really aware of anything similar. Even the official Instituto Camões site is quite brittle and limited with no proper test simulation, so although it’s worth taking, I pity anyone going into the exam having only done that, especially at C2/DUPLE level, because they don’t even offer that.
And I’ve added a new section about exam prep to the online learning resources page, since that seemed like a useful addition.
Doppelganger
I was intrigued by this dialogue in the audiobook I’m listening to, “Filho de Mil Homens” It’s a boy asking about his dad.
O António perguntava “E era parecido comigo?”
Ela dizia “Cara de um, focinho do outro”. Riam-se, puxava-lhe pelo nariz, beijava-o na testa”
Cara de um, focinho do outro: Face of one, snout of the other?
What’s going on? I thought at first that the second person was saying “you have the face of one parent and the nose of the other” , but that didnt seem right, and sure enough, after some thought, I realised they were saying “You’re exactly like your dad”. The cara (face) of the dad is like the focinho (literally an animal snout, but colloquially, a face) of the child.
I like this expression, it’s really cute!
There’s a similar expression someone told me about while I was asking about this: “Cuspido e escarrado” – literally “spat and spat”. Wait, the portuguese have two words for spitting? Apparently, yes, but we have expectorate, gob, hawk and flob, so that’s no surprise.
But why? Why, if you were trying to come up with an expression meaning “exactly the same as someone”, would you bring gobbing into the equation?
In many ways, it’s like the English expression “Spitting Image”, or “Spit and Image”, which are corruptions of “Spirit and image”. Cuspido e escarrado doesn’t imply that saliva makes you resemble another person, it’s a corruption of “esculpido em carrara” – Sculpted in Marble.
Luso 