I haven’t done a translation for a while. This one is by Capicua, although it has a guest verse by Gisela João, who I think is also the woman in the video, because it sure as heck doesn’t look like Capicua! I’m not quite sure what she’s driving at with this (Actually having been corrected on a couple of things, it’s coming a bit clearer) but she does a good job of building up a sort of menacing atmosphere!
| Português | Inglês |
|---|---|
| A seca baixou as águas do Danúbio E à tona emergem barcos afundados A perda sustenta as mágoas e o repúdio E à porta batem monstros do passado | The drought lowered the Danube And all the sunk boats surfaced The loss sustained the hurt and rejection And monsters of the past beat at the door* |
| Não há quem não sinta (Chegar) Um cheiro a anos trinta (No ar) Não há quem não sinta (Chegar) Um cheiro a anos trinta (No ar) | There’s nobody who doesn’t feel (arrive) The smell of the 1930s** (in the air) There’s nobody who doesn’t feel (arrive) The smell of thirty years (in the air) |
| É o bafo do passado que arfa no pescoço Espetros no encalço, o passo apressa em esforço É bomba-relógio o ódio pelo outro O sopro da história ensinou-nos pouco Nuvens ameaçadoras É sombra da velha senhora Fetiche por homens de farda A guarda está na retaguarda | And the breath of the past that pants in your neck Ghosts on your trail, pace quickening with the effort It’s a timebomb, the hatred for another The winds of history doesn’t teach much Threatening clouds It’s the shadow of the old woman Fetish for uniformed men The old guard is at the back |
| Como quem conta um segredo Que se perdeu no passado Volta a frota do Mar Negro Os navios afundados Com pólvora e dinamite Prestes a cumprir a ordem Embrulhámos o presente Nas folhas do jornal de ontem | Like someone who tells a secret That gets lost in the past The black sea fleet returns The shipwrecks With gunpowder and dynamite Ready to follow the order We wrap the present In the pages of yesterday’s newspaper |
| Não há quem não sinta (Chegar) Um cheiro a anos trinta (No ar) Não há quem não sinta (Chegar) Um cheiro a anos trinta (No ar) | There’s nobody who doesn’t feel (arrive) The smell of the 1930s (in the air) There’s nobody who doesn’t feel (arrive) The smell of thirty years (in the air) |
| É tão à direita o centro que isto tomba De ressentimento é feita a bomba Na ferrugem das carcaças Descoberta pela seca Vemos novas ameaças Caixa de Pandora aberta Eis o cais, eis o caos, sente O passado todo pela frente | This falls so far to the right of centre The bomb is made of resentment In the rust of the bones Discovered by the drought We see new threats Pandora’s box, open Here’s the quay, here’s the chaos, feel it The past is all ahead of you |
| Como quem conta um segredo Que se perdeu no passado Volta a frota do Mar Negro Os navios afundados Com pólvora e dinamite Prestes a cumprir a ordem Embrulhámos o presente Nas folhas do jornal de ontem | Like someone who tells a secret That gets lost in the past The black sea fleet returns The shipwrecks With gunpowder and dynamite Ready to follow the order We wrap the present In the pages of yesterday’s newspaper |
| Eis o cais, eis o caos, sente O passado todo pela frente | Here’s the quay, here’s the chaos, feel it The past is all ahead of you |
*I originally translated this as “thirty years” because i am an idiot. The change really makes the rest of the song come into focus, from a general sense of menace and unrest to a more specific reference to ghosts of Europe’s middle decades…
**I’m aware this usually means “knock at the door” but I translated it this way because… well, they’re monsters. Os monstros não usam delicadamente um batente de latão como se fossem vendedores de enciclopédias. Têm garras e tentáculos e braços compridos e escamosos. Fazem mais barulho!
Thanks to Cristina for correcting a few errors (including my use of english, which was a bit embarrassing) and also to Margarette in the comments section who was first to highlight my silly mistake over “thirty years” and “the 1930s”
Luso 