I’m in a translation mood again, and this one is a more traditional number: Lisboa, Menina e Moca by legendary fadista Carlos do Carmo. It’s pretty well known, and I hear it very often, so this is one of those songs to be aware of. The title is literally “Lisbon, Girl and Young Woman”, and he’s basically talking to the city as if it it was a girl and he was trying to – as the young folk say – rizz it up. It strikes me as a tiny bit cringe, but maybe that’s my cultural perspective. Let’s dive into the lyrics and see what it’s like. The version I’ve chosen is from an appearance on The Voice Portugal, and it’s notable because he breaks off part-way through to tell the young people in teh audience to stop clapping because it’s fado, not rock, which is a classic old dude move. That’s enough of your malarkey, Jack!
| Portuguese | English |
|---|---|
| No Castelo ponho um cotovelo Em Alfama descanso o olhar E assim desfaço o novelo de azul e mar Á Ribeira encosto a cabeça Almofada da cama do Tejo Com lençóis bordados à pressa na cambraia dum** beijo | I put one of my elbows on the castle I rest my gaze on the Alfama And like that, I undo the knot* of blue and sea I lean my head on the Ribeira The pillow on the bed of the Tejo With hastily-embroidered sheets, in the cambric of a kiss |
| Lisboa, menina e moça***, menina Da luz que os meus olhos vêem, tão pura Teus seios são as colinas, varina**** Pregão que me traz à porta, ternura Cidade a ponto-luz, bordada Toalha á beira-mar, estendida Lisboa, menina e moça, amada Cidade mulher da minha vida | Lisboa, girl and woman, girl By the light my eyes see, so pure Your breasts are he hills, sea lady The call that brings me to the door, tenderness CIty with points of light, emroidered Towel by the seashore, stretched out Lisbon, girl and woman, loved City, woman of my life |
| No Terreiro eu passo por ti Mas na Graça eu vejo-te nua Quando um pombo te olha, sorri, és mulher da rua E no bairro mais alto***** do sonho Ponho um fado que soube inventar Aguardente de vida e medronho******, que me faz cantar | On the Terreiro, i pass by you But in Graça, I see you naked When a pigeon sees you, it smiles, you are a woman of the road And in the highest suburb of the dream I give you a fado that I knew how to invent Brandy made of life and fruit that makes me sing |
| Lisboa no meu amor, deitada Cidade por minhas mãos, despida Lisboa, menina e moça, amada Cidade mulher da minha vida | Lisboa on my love, laid City by my hands, undressed Lisbon, girl and woman, loved City, woman of my life |
*Novelo usually means a ball of thread or a cotton reel, but can mean a complicated thing, so I’m thinking he’s talking about a knot that he’s undoing, rather than a cotton reel – it just seems to make more sense in the context but I could be wrong.
**I couldn’t make any sense of this and thought he was saying “dei um beijo”, but that ain’t it chief! He’s just comparing the lightness of a kiss to the lightness of the material. There’s an explanation of all this needlework metaphhor here if you want to know more.
***I’m, translating moça as woman, not young woman, because I think it sounds better. FIght me! By the way, Menina e Moca is also the name of an early portuguese novel by Bernadim Ribeiro. Maybe there’s a link?
****Eesh! How to translate this? I think he’s saying she’s a woman who lives by the side of the sea – the second meaning given on Priberam – and that woudl make a certain amount of sense.
*****Referring to the Bairro Alto neighbourhood, of course, a wretched hive of wine and fadory if ever there was one
******Medronho is a kind of tree whose fruits are used to make aguardente de medronho.
Luso 