Acabo de ler o panfleto deste nome da autoria de Gabriele Giuga, sobre a obra de Amália Rodrigues, com ênfase na canção Barco Negro. É claro que o autor* tem melhores conhecimentos da teoria de música do que eu (o que não é grande elogio porque não sei nada). Ele escreve minuciosamente sobre a sequência de colcheias aumentadas e semicolcheias e ostinatos rítmicos e não sei mais o quê. Não entendo muito mas em suma, afirma que um fado bem escrito tem as suas sílabas dispostas de tal modo que não impedem o ritmo da música. Ou melhor, se for bem escrito, a letra terá um ritmo natural e quando é lido em voz alta, sugere a forma da música, ainda que as guitarras fiquem caladas.
Não sabia que este Fado tem raízes no Brasil. O original é chamado Mãe Preta escrito por Caco Velho. Tem um ritmo muito semelhante mas mais animado. A letra foi proibida em Portugal pela censura do Estado Novo, mas com uma letra de David Mourão-Ferreira (o criador da maioria dos fados mais famosos de Amália), o samba tornou-se uma canção de amor e o ritmo abrandou-se para ser mais adequado às casas de fado.
*apparently Gabriele Giuga is a dude. The e on the end of his first name really threw me. Thanks to Cristina for spotting this and other errors.
Esta placa indica o nome da rua “Largo Amália Rodrigues” mas acrescenta “(fadista)”. Há quem não saiba quem é Amália Rodrigues? Ou há mais Amálias? Uma Amália Rodrigues (contabilista)?
Another translation – this one from Amália. It’s not one of my favourites but I’ve always been intrigued by the title: Cheira a Lisboa: It smells like Lisbon. OK, well let’s see what that smells like then. Cigarettes and roasted chestnuts mostly, I think, well, OK, there are worse smells.
It’s probably worth remembering the differerence between “cheirar a” and “cheirar de” which is discussed in this blog post from a couple of years back. I’ll translate “cheirar a” as “smells like” not “smells of”. And “Cheira bem” I will translate as “smells good” but it would be more literal to say “it smells well” because bem is an adverb, but that would sound stupid in english.
Portuguese
English
Lisboa já tem Sol mas cheira a Lua Quando nasce a madrugada sorrateira E o primeiro elétrico da rua Faz coro com as chinelas da Ribeira
Lisbon has sun but smells like the moon When the surreptitious dawn breaks And the first tram in the street Makes a chorus with the slippers of Ribeira
Se chove cheira a terra prometida Procissões têm o cheiro a rosmaninho Nas tascas da viela mais escondidas Cheira a iscas com elas e a vinho
If it rains it smells like the promised land Processions have a smell like rosemary In the most hidden backstreet bars It smells of Iscas com Elas and of wine
Um cravo numa água furtada Cheira bem, cheira a Lisboa Uma rosa a florir na tapada Cheira bem, cheira a Lisboa
A carnation hidden in the window It smells good, it smells like Lisbon A rose flourishing in the park It smells good, it smells like Lisbon
A fragata que se ergue na proa A varina que teima em passar Cheiram bem porque são de Lisboa Lisboa tem cheiros de flores e de mar
The frigate that rises up on the prow The fish seller who insists on passing by They smell good because they are from Lisbon Lisbon smells like flowers and the sea
Lisboa cheira aos cafés do Rossio E o fado cheira sempre a solidão Cheira a castanha assada se está frio Cheira a fruta madura quando é verão
Lisboa smells like Rossio cafés And fado always smells like solitude It smells like roasted chestnuts* when it’s cold It smells of ripe fruit when it’s summer
Nos lábios tem um cheiro de um sorriso Manjerico tem cheiro de cantigas E os rapazes perdem o juízo Quando lhes dá o cheiro a raparigas
On its lips it has the hint** of a smile Basil smells like songs And the boys lose their judgement When the smell of girls reaches*** them
Um cravo numa água furtada Cheira bem, cheira a Lisboa Uma rosa a florir na tapada Cheira bem, cheira a Lisboa
A carnation hidden in the window It smells good, it smells like Lisbon A rose flourishing in the park It smells good, it smells like Lisbon
A fragata que se ergue na proa A varina que teima em passar Cheiram bem porque são de Lisboa Lisboa tem cheiros de flores e de mar
The frigate that rises up on the prow The fish seller who insists on passing by They smell good because they are from Lisbon Lisbon smells like flowers and the sea
Cheira bem, cheira a Lisboa Cheira bem, cheira a Lisboa
It smells good, it smells like Lisbon It smells good, it smells like Lisbon
A fragata que se ergue na proa A varina que teima em passar Cheiram bem porque são de Lisboa Lisboa tem cheiros de flores e de mar
The frigate that rises up on the prow The fish seller who insists on passing by They smell good because they are from Lisbon Lisbon smells like flowers and the sea
*Ha! I told you so! She’s got half of it, anyway! The best half!
** I assume “um cheiro” can be “a hint” in this sense.
***I think “lhes dar” is equivalent to “dar a” (eles) which can have the sense of reaching or arriving at something
Translation time! This one is a classic fado, which is mentioned in the book I reviewed the day before yesterday. It also gives us some insight into the Portuguese language’s radical commitment to singular verb endings for collective nouns. The video is majestic and well worth watching, even with the sound off, for the glances between the guitarist and the guy on the guitarra portuguesa. I’d love to know what was going on between them. The song itself is written by Amália but it is really more of an adaptation of a longer poem called “Povo” by Pedro Homem de Mello.
First of all, I think we’re meant to envision people washing their clothes in the river, rather than skinnydipping, in case that’s not obvious! But let’s focus in on how she refers to the noun “povo” here. I’ve highlighted the relevant words in the first verse. As you can se, she’s addressing the “povo” (the people – especially the simple, common people) as “Tu”. In other words, she’s addressing them all, collectively, using the form normally reserved for one singular person who’s familiar to the speaker.
This was really jarring to me. Of course, it’s not that hard to find people referring to “a gente” using third person singular pronouns – I wrote about this a couple of months back – and the portuguese generally take a firmer line on treating the collective as one singular entity (as opposed to using words like eles/them) than we would in english. But to see her speaking directly to the people like this and just address the whoel population like it was her little sister is quite a cultural leap, at least for me.
Povo que lavas no rio
People who wash in the river
Povo que lavas no rio Que talhas com teu machado As tábuas do meu caixão Povo que lavas no rio Que talhas com teu machado As tábuas do meu caixão
Pode** haver quem te defenda Que compre o teu chão sagrado Mas a tua vida não
People who wash in the river Who cut with your axe The boards for my coffin* People who wash in the river Who cut with your axe The boards for my coffin
There might be people who defend you Who buy your sacred land But not your life
Fui ter à mesa redonda Beber em malga que esconda Um beijo de mão em mão Fui ter à mesa redonda Beber em malga que esconda Um beijo de mão em mão
Era o vinho que me deste Água pura, fruto agreste Mas a tua vida não
I ended up at the round table*** To drink from a bowl that hides A kiss from hand to hand I ended up at the round table To drink from a bowl that hides A kiss from hand to hand
It was the wine you gave me Pure water, wild fruit But not your life
Aromas de urze e de lama Dormi com eles na cama Tive a mesma condição Aromas de urze e de lama Dormi com eles na cama Tive a mesma condição
Povo, povo eu te pertenço Deste-me alturas de incenso Mas a tua vida não
Scents of heather and dirt I slept with them in the bed I was in the same condition. Scents of heather and dirt I slept with them in the bed I was in the same condition.
People, people, I belong to you You gave me moments of incense**** But not your life
Ai, povo que lavas no rio Que talhas com teu machado As tábuas do meu caixão Povo que lavas no rio Que talhas com teu machado As tábuas do meu caixão
Há-de haver quem te defenda Quem compre o teu chão sagrado Mas a tua vida não
People who wash in the river Who cut with your axe The boards for my coffin People who wash in the river Who cut with your axe The boards for my coffin
There might be people who defend you Who buy your sacred land But not your life
*=Could this be more emo?
**=Some versionf oe the lyrics use “ha-de” in place of “pode” but this seems to be teh version she’s singing in the video above. I’m pretty sure the há-de version is taken from Dulce Pontes’ rendition.
***=What’s the word “ter” doing here? According to priberam “ir ter a” is a compound verb meaning the same as “ir dar a” or “ir parar a” – um… OK, I’m none the wiser… but according to the Guia Prático de Verbos Com Preposições, that means “terminar em” or “desembocar”. So basically, to lead to something, to end up at something. Hence “ended up at”
****=I must admit, I got confused about this since the incense reference seemed a bit random, and I was trying to make sense of it by looking at alternative meanings of that word. Figuratively, it can mean praise or subservience, but I think I was overthinking it because it looks like she’s just referring to the smells at the top of the verse. OK, right, that makes sense!
Passei 3 dias em Cambridge. Ou melhor, passei um dia em Cambridge e dois dias a andar de bicicleta para Cambridge e depois para casa. Não tive energia o suficiente para escrever, portanto aqui estou novamente no primeiro dia do Streak!
Durante a estadia, li um livrinho chamado “Amália Rodrigues: Um Lugar Misterioso”. É um livro ilustrado que conta a história dessa cantora de forma simples. Explica-se as suas origens familiares e as raízes da sua arte. Apesar da simplicidade, os autores não evitam os aspetos polémicos da vida dela: a maneira na qual o fado fez parte da ideologia da ditadura, e o seu papel ambíguo nessa propaganda. O livro contém exemplos da poesia do seu fado, e as ilustrações são maravilhosas.
I’m pretty sure I’ve at least mentioned this song before because it’s so great, but I’ve never got around to doing a translation of it. Amália Rodrigues is an interesting character in her own right, and she’s had a huge influence on musicians, both traditional and avant-garde. This song is about a woman who’s lost her husband at sea and she’s sleeping on the beach waiting for him to come home and feeling like he’s still with her somehow even though everyone tells her its hopeless.
Thank you very much, Monsieur Trenet
Barco Negro (Black Boat)
Portuguese
English
De manhã, que medo que me achasses feia Acordei tremendo deitada na areia Mas logo os teus olhos disseram que não E o sol penetrou no meu coração Mas logo os teus olhos disseram que não E o sol penetrou no meu coração
In the morning, so scared that you’d find me ugly I woke up shaking, lying on the sand But then your eyes told me no And the sun penetrated my heart But then your eyes told me no And the sun penetrated my heart
Vi depois numa rocha uma cruz E o teu barco negro dançava na luz Vi teu braço acenando entre as velas já soltas Dizem as velhas da praia que não voltas
Then I saw a cross on a rock And your black boat was dancing in the light I saw your arm waving between the loose sails The old women at the beach say you’ll never come home
São loucas! São loucas! Eu sei meu amor, que nem chegaste a partir Pois tudo em meu redor me diz Que estás sempre comigo Eu sei, meu amor, que nem chegaste a partir Pois tudo em meu redor me diz Que estás sempre comigo
They’re crazy! They’re crazy! I know, my love that you never even left Because everything around me tells me That you’re always with me I know, my love that you never even left Because everything around me tells me That you’re always with me
No vento que lança areia nos vidros Na água que canta no fogo mortiço No calor do leito dos bancos vazios Dentro do meu peito estás sempre comigo No calor do leito dos bancos vazios Dentro do meu peito estás sempre comigo
In the wind that throws sand against the windows In the water that sings, in the dying fire In the bed of empty benches In my breast, you’re always with me In the bed of empty benches In my breast, you’re always with me
Eu sei, meu amor, que nem chegaste a partir Pois tudo em meu redor me diz Que estás sempre comigo Eu sei, meu amor, que nem chegaste a partir Pois tudo em meu redor me diz Que estás sempre comigo
I know, my love that you never even left Because everything around me tells me That you’re always with me I know, my love that you never even left Because everything around me tells me That you’re always with me
Luso 