O mundo está fodido, portanto vamos ouvir os Deolinda. Há anos que sou fã desta banda e nunca me farto de ouvir as suas músicas e sentir as emoções – neste caso a felicidade turbulenta do casal imperfeito que é o assunto da canção. Talvez, apesar de tudo, o mundo não esteja assim tão fodido.
Português
Inglês
Às vezes és bruto Rezingão, tosco, inculto Insensível, um ingrato, um ruim Rude e casmurro És teimoso como um burro Mas, no fundo, és perfeito para mim
Sometimes you’re crude Grumpy, coarse, ignorant Insensitive, an ingrate, a meanie Rude and pig-headed You’re stubborn as a mule But, deep down you’re perfect for me
Às vezes, também, eu tenho o meu feitio E sei que levo tudo à minha frente E por essas e por outras Quase que nem damos conta Das vezes que amuados No sofá refastelados Repartimos a manta sem incidentes
Sometimes, too, I have my ways And I know I don’t listen too anyone* And for those things and others We almost never notice The times we grumpily, On the sofa, all snug, Share the blanket without incident
Às vezes és parvo Gabarola, mal-criado É preciso muita pachorra para ti Cromo, chico-esperto Preguiçoso e incerto Mas, é certo, que és perfeito para mim
Sometimes you’re foolish Boastful, spoiled It takes a lot of patience to deal with you A nerd, a smartarse Lazy and uncertain But it’s certain that you’re perfect for me
Às vezes, também, sou curta de pavio E respondo sempre a tudo muito a quente E por essas e por outras Quase que nem damos conta Das vezes que amuados No sofá refastelados Repartimos a manta sem incidentes
Sometimes, too, I am short on temper And I reply to everything heatedly And for those things and others We almost never notice The times we grumpily, On the sofa, all snug, Share the blanket without incident
Às vezes, concedo Que admiro em segredo Tudo aquilo que não cantei sobre ti Mas o que em ti me fascina Dava uma outra cantiga Que teria umas três horas p’ra aí
Sometimes, I admit That I admire in secret All those things I haven’t sung about you But what fascinates me about you Would make another song That would be three hours long
Às vezes, também, sou dada ao desvario Mas vem e passa tudo no repente E por essas e por outras Quase que nem damos conta Das vezes que amuados No sofá refastelados Com os pés entrelaçados E narizes encostados Já os dois bem enrolados Brutalmente apaixonados Repartimos a manta sem incidentes
Sometimes, too, I am give to madness But he comes and it all passes suddenly And for those things and others We almost never notice The times we grumpily, On the sofa, all snug, With our feet intertwined And our noses touching And both of us rolled up Brutally in love Share the blanket without incident
*I struggled to translate this – I sweep all before me? I barge everything out of my way? Levar tudo à (sua) frente is what a tractor or a bulldozer does, so the idea you get is of someone just charging through everything and not taking account of anyone else…. but it’s difficult to boil that down to the length of a lyric!
Ana Lua Caiano is coming to London for a gig in May with another musician, Baby Volcano. BV seems to do a lot of songs in english and even (shudder) Spanish, so I might need to bring earplugs for that one. Is this any good though? Let’s have a listen, translate it, and decide…
Se dançar é só depois Para já, já estou morta Morta para ir dormir Dormir p’ra amanhã voltar Voltar a acordar Com ideias mal cozidas Mal cozidas p’ra empratar Numa folha de papel Ai, ai, ai eu Acordei feita num oito Dormi com os pés no chão Para ser mais fácil levantar Ai, ai, ai eu Nunca cortes meus delírios Quero esquecer minha farda P’ra não ir mais trabalhar Ai, meu amor
If I dance, it’ll only be later. I’m dead at the moment Dead to sleep, to sleep to come back tomorrow To wake again With half-cooked ideas, half cooked to plate up On a piece of paper Ai ai ai I Woke up in a mess*, I slept with my feet on the ground To make it easier to get up Ai ai ai, I never cut my delirium I want t forget my uniform so I’ll never have to work Ai, my darling
Quando nós vivermos juntos Ai, meu amor Quando o quarto for p’ra dois Ai, espera-me à noite, amor, Espera-me à noite De dia nunca tenho Tempo p’ra dançar E se dançar tem que ser Devagarinho E se dançar tem que ser Bem devagar Ai, porque o meu corpo, amor, E o teu corpo Nossos corpos Já só sabem maquinar Se dançar é só depois Para já, já estou morta Morta para ir dormir Dormir p’ra amanhã voltar Voltar a acordar Com ideias mal cozidas Mal cozidas p’ra empratar Numa folha de papel Ai, ai, ai eu Ai, a sorte não me encontra Pensa que já estou morta Guarda meu ouro p’ra outro Ai, ai, ai eu Os meus pés acordam frios Minhas mãos a encolher A sorte não dá de comer Ai, meu amor
When we live together Ai my darling When the bedroom is for two Ai, wait for me at night, love, wait for me at night In the daytime I don’t have Time to dance And if I dance it has to be slowly And if I dance it has to be really slow AI, because my body, love, and your body Our bodies Only know how to be machines If I dance, it’ll only be later. I’m dead at the moment Dead to sleep, to sleep to come back tomorrow To wake again With half-cooked ideas, half cooked to plate up On a piece of paper Ai ai ai I Ai, luck can’t find me It thinks I’m dead already It keeps my gold for someone else AI ai ai, I My feet wake up cold, my hands clenching Luck doesn’t feed me Ai, my love
Se conseguirmos viver juntos Ai, meu amor Se o meu quarto aumentar Ai, espera-me à noite, amor, Espera-me à noite Continuo sem ter Tempo p’ra dançar Se dançar é só depois Para já, já estou morta Morta para ir dormir Dormir p’ra amanhã voltar Voltar a acordar Com ideias mal cozidas Mal cozidas p’ra empratar Numa folha de papel Ai, ai, ai eu Acordei feita num oito Dormi com os pés no chão P’ra ser mais fácil levantar Ai, ai, ai eu Nunca cortes meus delírios Quero esquecer minha farda P’ra não ir mais trabalhar Ai, ai, ai eu Acordei feita num oito Dormi com os pés no chão P’ra ser mais fácil levantar Ai, ai, ai eu Nunca cortes meus delírios Quero esquecer minha farda Quero ir mas é dançar
If we manage to live together, ai my love If my bedroom gets bigger Ai, wait for me at night, love, wait for me at night I still don’t have Time to dance If I dance, it’ll only be later. I’m dead at the moment Dead to sleep, to sleep to come back tomorrow To wake again With half-cooked ideas, half cooked to plate up On a piece of paper Ai ai ai I Woke up in a mess*, I slept with my feet on the ground To make it easier to get up Ai ai ai, I Never cut my delirium I want t forget my uniform so I’ll never have to work Ai ai ai I Woke up in a mess*, I slept with my feet on the ground To make it easier to get up Ai ai ai, I Never cut my delirium I want t forget my uniform I just want to go dancing
* Feito num oito seems not to mean you’re not literally in a figure eight, you’re just tired, listless, messed up, like feito ao bife.
Hm, I’m afraid that just left me cold. It didn’t really have anything to recommend it at all. I might go anyway because I like going to portuguese shows but I have to admit it’s not something that excites me, so… I dunno.
I decided to translate this for fun. It’s easy peasy, but that’s OK, I’m not in exam mode, so it’s nice to do one that’s not just enjoyable and doesn’t make my brain bleed. It’s a duet between Carolina Deslandes and Rui Veloso and I thought maybe it was a version of something he’d written, simply because the lyrics sound like they are said by a man (she says she’ll become a “cavaleiro” for example, although now I think of it, is there even a feminine form of cavaleiro?) Anyway, it’s not, he doesn’t even get a joint writing credit, so I’m glad I checked before just writing that! Their voices work really well together, don’t they? They couldn’t be more different, but it’s a nice contrast.
Português
Inglês
Amor o mundo quebra-te os sonhos Às vezes cai-te todo nos ombros Eu levanto-o inteiro por ti Eu viro o cavaleiro por ti Amor o mundo deixa-te ao frio Às vezes larga-te no vazio Eu pinto de todas as cores por ti Eu viro Leonardo Da Vinci por ti
Darling the world broke your dreams Sometimes it all fell on your shoulders I’ll lift it all up for you I’ll become a knight for you Darling, the world left you in the cold Sometimes it left you in the void I’ll paint all the colours for you I’ll become Leonardo da Vinci for you
Fiz-te um avião de papel Daqueles das cartas de amor Pra voarmos nele quando o mundo é cruel E não há espaço que chegue pra dor Fiz-te um avião de papel Daqueles dos quantos queres Pra voarmos daqui em lua de mel Pra te levar pra onde quiseres
I made you a paper plane One of those made out of a love letter So we can fly in it when the world is cruel And there’s not enough room for pain I made you a paper plane One of so many you want So we can fly from here to a honeymoon To take you wherever you want
Amor o mundo tira-te o ar Chega a proibir-te de dançar Eu danço as músicas todas por ti Eu viro bailarino por ti Amor o mundo fez-te mulher Mais cedo do que tinha de ser Eu faço o tempo voltar por ti Eu viro super-homem por ti
Darling, the world took away your breath It even prevented you from dancing I danced to all the songs for you I’ll become a dancer for you Darling, the world made you a woman Earlier than it had to I’ll make time go backwards for you I’ll become Superman for you
Fiz-te um avião de papel Daqueles das cartas de amor Pra voarmos nele quando o mundo é cruel E não há espaço que chegue pra dor Fiz-te um avião de papel Daqueles dos quantos queres Pra voarmos daqui em lua de mel Pra te levar pra onde quiseres
I made you a paper plane One of those made out of a love letter So we can fly in it when the world is cruel And there’s not enough room for pain I made you a paper plane One of so many you want So we can fly from here to a honeymoon To take you wherever you want
Fiz-te um avião de papel (Pois fiz) Daqueles das cartas de amor Pra voarmos nele quando o mundo é cruel E não há espaço que chegue pra dor Fiz-te um avião de papel Daqueles dos quantos queres Pra voarmos daqui em lua de mel Pra te levar onde quiseres
I made you a paper plane (of course!) One of those made out of a love letter So we can fly in it when the world is cruel And there’s not enough room for pain I made you a paper plane One of so many you want So we can fly from here to a honeymoon To take you wherever you want
Pra te levar Pra te levar Onde quiseres Onde quiseres
To take you To take you Wherever you want Wherever you want
Following on from the last post – this picture I took at the Museu do Fado contains Fazer falta, and it’s prohibited so I am drawn to translate it…. Pre-AO spelling though so ironically it’s just as illegal now as it was then 🙂
The fierce, unjust heap Is blind or doesn't see well Randomly leaving in the world People who won't be missed
My parents, my grandparents Death has taken everyone from me I was left alone, suffering In the world, always crying What an outcast I am
Oh death, why don't you come for me To stop by heart In this sad life That was never cheerful for me And only has illusion
Everything is over for me Without having anyone in the world Weighting for the hour that sounds Don't leave the world at random That nobody will miss
It’s interesting isn’t it? First of all, that first word, parga, is quite unusual. It’s a heap of stored hay and grain stored away from the weather (silage?). I wonder if it had some other meaning on the 1930s. Alternatively, it might even be a typo, because praga (plague) would make a lot of sense.
I’m also interested in the slight shift in wording between the last two lines of the first verse and the last two of the last. I wonder what difference it makes. I feel like there’s a shift in emphasis there but I can’t quite put my finger on it.
Someone or other once said that poetry isn’t a puzzle to be solved, but it annoys me to see someone clearly doing something clever and I don’t understand it so I thought I’d dig into this one and see what was going on. It’s from Atirar Para o Torto.
OK, let’s do this….
Most of the lines are in the form Antes ……….. (do) que ……. Which in english would be something like “Better a ………. than a ……..” or “I’d rather …………. than ………..” or “I’d prefer ……. to ……”.
Some lines use “do que” and some just “que” on it own, so i have one eye on this page which I usually use as a reference when I’m not sure which to use, and I’m curious to see how closely the poem follows the strict rules. Not very, I expect. Actually, not at all. If you look at the pattern, the presence or absence of the “do” depends on the number of syllables. Que sounds better with longer words, Do Que with shorter
Quite a lot of the words have multiple meanings so part of the game is working out which meaning the writer intends. In some cases the resulting sentence sounds ridiculous and I am pretty sure I have the wrong end of a few sticks, but for what it’s worth, here’s my best shot….
A ESCADA DO MAL antes perversa que íntegra – better perverse than entire antes malícia que perfídia – better malice than perfidy antes volúvel que solúvel – better voluble than soluble antes manchar que estancar – better to stain than to staunch antes dobrar que pregar – better to fold than to pin antes prega do que treva – better a fold than darkness antes treva do que cega – better darkness than blind antes trôpega que chita – better immobile than linen (um…. don’t get this one!) antes chita do que hiena – better cheetah than hyena (second meaning of chita!) antes gárgula que helena – better gargoyle than a hellenic antes arqueira que argueiro – better a bowmaker than a speck antes cravo do que trave – better a nail than a crossbar (assuming cravo is nail here, not a carnation) antes cruz que cruzeiro – better a cross than a cruise antes turista que anfíbia – better tourist than amphibian antes anfíbia que estática – better amphibian than static antes esquiva do que mansa – better a loner than domesticated antes autista que sápida – better autistic than tasty antes esquina do que esconso – better corner than garret antes saloia que sonsa – better yokel than poser antes chá do que veneno – better tea than poison antes copo do que sopa – better a glass than soup antes sopa que arsénico – better soup than arsenic antes verbena que urtiga – better verbena than nettle antes agreste que azeda – better bitter than sour antes daninha que medrosa – better harmful than fearful antes medrosa que maninha – better fearful than a little sister antes maninha que rasteira – better a little sister than servile antes gatas que de rojo – better on hands and knees than dragging antes larva que dengosa – better maggot than brown-noser (dengoso has a lot of meanings – it could be a person with dengue fever!) antes Malinche que Cleópatra – better Malinche than Cleopatra antes Pompeia que esposa de César – better Pompey than Caesar’s wife antes cadela que dono – better bitch than master antes pega do que proba – better thief than honest person antes rata do que esperta – better eccentric than astute antes carcaça que bútio – better skeleton than lazybones antes vício que agarrada – better addicted than hooked a chave fiel – the faithful key dourada – golden antes pintada que certa – better painted than true antes poseuse que anel – better poser than ring (than married?) antes pobre que promessa – better poor than promise antes tudo do que essa – better anything than that sobrestimada mentecapta – overestimated brainless palavra – word de honra – of honour antes arsénico – better arsenic.
And if you’re interested, here’s what Deepl has to say about it
rather perverse than upright rather malice than perfidy rather fickle than soluble rather stain than stop rather bend than preach rather preach than darkness rather darkness than blindness rather stumble than cheetah rather cheetah than hyena before gargoyle than helena before an archer better carnation than beam rather cross than cruise before tourist than amphibian rather amphibian than static rather dodgy than meek
This is the song Mariza sang as an encore at the concert. It’s more motivational-poetry-ish than I’m really comfortable with, but that’s OK, each to their own, and a lot of people really seem to like it. There are a few versions on youtube but I think I like this live, acoustic version better than the official video (which is definitely trying too hard imho)
Hoje a semente que dorme na terra E que se esconde no escuro que encerra Amanhã nascerá uma flor Ainda que a esperança da luz seja escassa A chuva que molha e passa Vai trazer numa luta amor
Today the seed that sleeps in the earth And that hides in the enclosing darkness Tomorrow a flower will be born Even though the hope of light is scarce The rain that wets and moves on Is going to fight to bring love
Também eu estou à espera da luz Deixou-me aqui onde a sombra seduz Também eu estou à espera de mim Algo me diz que a tormenta passará
I’m waiting for light too He left me here where the shade seduces I’m waiting for myself too Something tells me the torment will pass
É preciso perder para depois se ganhar E mesmo sem ver, acreditar É a vida que segue e não espera pela gente Cada passo que demos em frente Caminhando sem medo de errar Creio que a noite sempre se tornará dia E o brilho que o sol irradia Há-de sempre me iluminar
You have to lose so you can win And even without seeing it, believe it It’s life that goes on and doesn’t wait for people Every step forward that we take Walking without fear of going wrong I believe the night always becomes day And the light the sun gives out Will surely always shine on me
Quebro as algemas neste meu lamento Se renasço a cada momento Meu destino na vida é maior
I’m breaking the handcuffs in this my lament Of rebirth in every moment My destiny in life is greater
Também eu vou em busca da luz Saio daqui onde a sombra seduz Também eu estou à espera de mim Algo me diz que a tormenta passará
I too am in search of the light I’m getting out of here where the shade seduces I’m waiting for myself too Something tells me the torment will pass
É preciso perder para depois se ganhar E mesmo sem ver, acreditar É a vida que segue e não espera pela gente Cada passo que demos em frente Caminhando sem medo de errar E creio que a noite sempre se tornará dia E o brilho que o sol irradia Há-de sempre nos iluminar
You have to lose so you can win And even without seeing it, believe it It’s life that goes on and doesn’t wait for people Every step forward that we take Walking without fear of going wrong I believe the night always becomes day And the light the sun gives out Will surely always shine on me
Sei que o melhor de mim está pra chegar Sei que o melhor de mim está por chegar Sei que o melhor de mim está pra chegar
I know the best of me is yet to come I know the best of me is yet to come I know the best of me is yet to come
Cuca Roseta is coming to play in London soon. It really has been an excellent year for portuguese entertainment here. I’m sure there are a lot of fair-sized towns in Portugal that haven’t had as much choice of big name acts visiting them as we have. Anyway, I’d never heard of her, as far as I remember, but I looked her up and found one of the craziest song titles ever: Call the FBI of the Heart. It’s mid but I thought I’d try and translate it. It didn’t make me like it any more, I’m afraid.
Português
Inglês
Tirem-me às palavras o sentido Se é p’ra ser sonante ao ouvido Do que é certo ou do que tem mais valor
Tenso assalto aos meus neurónios De uma espécie rara de demónios E que ninguém saiba que se chama amor
Take the meaning of my words If it sounds better to your ear Of what is right or has more value
Tense assault on my braincells by a rare kind of demon And that no-one knows it’s called love
Tirem-me as palavras à cigana Que de faca e de mão na trama Saem da boca sem lhe dar a permissão
Eu bem que me tento comedir Penso em trocá-las ao sair Mas sou sempre ultrapassada p’la emoção
Take my words from the gypsy Who, with knife and a hand in the plot come out of her permission
I’m trying to contain myself I’m thinking of swapping them on the way out But I’m always overtaken by emotion
Chamem o FBI do coração Façam sindicato da paixão Tragam-mе as algemas para a boca Estou a ficar louca Levem-mе para a prisão da Cuca
Call the FBI of the heart Make a love syndicate Bring me handcuffs for my mouth I’m going crazy Take me to Cuca-prison.
Tirem-me as palavras que desato Quando chegas perto e eu relato Digo tudo o que não queria dizer
Venho a mastiga-los pela boca De uma outra eu que é meia louca Que faz sempre o que eu não queria fazer
Take my words that I untie When you get close and I report I say everything I didn’t want to say
I come to chew them in the mouth Of another me who’s half crazy Who always does what I didn’t want to do
Ao meu lado Dorme a tristeza Gota a gota dessa vil certeza De não te poder tirar do coração
At my side Sadness is sleeping Drop by drop of this criminal certainty of not being able to take it from my heart
Chamem o FBI do coração Façam sindicato da paixão Tragam-me as algemas para a boca Estou a ficar louca Levem-me para a prisão da Cuca Chamem o FBI Chamem o FBI Chamem o FBI Do coração
Call the FBI of the heart Make a love syndicate Take these handcuffs off my mouth I’m going crazy Take me to Cuca-prison. Call the FBI Call the FBI Call the FBI of the heart
Ouvi uma versão desta canção recentemente no canal de David Antunes + the Midnight Band, que é sempre uma fonte de maravilhas e o desempenho neste caso é mesmo esmagador, uma vez que é tocado quase exclusivamente em instrumentos infantis (o vídeo está debaixo da tabela de letras nesta página) O original saiu em 2012 e foi lançado por Sebastião Antunes e Quadrilha. O Sebastião não é um familiar do David apesar de os dois partilharem um sobrenome, mas o David tocou várias vezes a canção ao vivo nos seus próprios espetáculos e o Sebastião até apareceu no canal do David também.
A música teve muito sucesso e (tanto quanto sei) muita gente gosta dela. A versão original é invulgar por incluir uma gaita de foles. O meu pai sabia tocar a gaita de foles escocesa e por isso estou predisposto a gostar a canção apesar de me sentir por outro lado dum abismo cultural de cem milhas de largura.
Português
Inglês
Deram-me uma burra Que era mansa que era brava Toda bem parecida Mas a burra não andava A burra não andava Nem prá frente nem pra trás Muito lhe ralhava Mas eu não era capaz Eu não era capaz De fazer a burra andar Passava do meio dia E eu a desesperar E eu a desesperar Ai que desespero o meu Falei-lhe no burrico* E a burra até correu
They gave me a donkey That was tame and that was wild Everything seemed fine But the donkey wouldn’t move The donkey wouldn’t move Neither forward nor backward I yelled at it a lot But I couldn’t I couldn’t Make the donkey move It was after midday And I was in despair And I was in despair Oh, I was in such despair I told her about the (male) donkey And it even started running
*This seems to be disputed. When I first wrote this I copied the lyrics from A Música Portuguesa and it says “falhei-lhe”. It seems like that version appears on quite a lot of pages dotted around the web, but I am reliably informed that the non-h version is the right one, so there you go!
Carolina Deslandes is definitely growing on me. Her lyrics seem really well-crafted. Her voice doesn’t have the earth-shattering power of Sara Correia (the last portuguese singer I went to see), but she’s a different kind of singer and her voice works for the kind of music she’s making. I really like this one.
When I found the lyrics I saw they had transcribed it with “luta” in place of “puta”. You can find videos of her singing it that way on Rádio Comercial, but this video is bleeped out and I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t have bleeped luta, so I’m changing it back to what I think must be the original. Como é Linda a Puta de Vida is the name of a book by Miguel Esteves Cardoso, and I don’t know if she pinched the line from him or if it has older roots.
Português
Inglês
Esfolar os joelhos A achar que sabia voar Ignorar os conselhos Que no fim nos iam salvar
Skinning your knees And finding you don’t know how to fly Ignoring the advice That would save us in the end
Ser abandonada Não ter onde arrumar o amor Não querer saber de nada E saber-te ao pormenor
Being abandoned Not having a place to put love Not wanting to know anything And knowing yourself in detail
Como é linda e caótica A puta da vida, amor Vê lá bem a nossa sorte Vê lá bem o nosso azar Como é linda e caótica A puta da vida, amor Viver a fintar a morte Hoje saímos pra dançar
It’s so beautiful and chaotic The bitch of life, my love. Just look at our good luck Just look at our bad luck It’s so beautiful and chaotic The bitch of life, my love. Living to trick death Today we’re going out dancing
Partir o coração Dar razão a quem nos avisou Uma desilusão Uma ferida que nunca sarou
Breaking your heart Proving the people who warned us right A disappointment A wound that never healed
Ser traído, chorar Desatar os nós da garganta Querer esquecer e lembrar Quando a saudade é tanta, tanta
Being betrayed, crying Untying the knots in our throat* Wanting to forget and remember When there’s so, so much longing**
Como é linda e caótica A puta da vida amor Vê lá bem a nossa sorte Vê lá bem o nosso azar Como é linda e caótica A puta da vida amor Viver a fintar a morte Hoje saímos pra dançar
It’s so beautiful and chaotic The bitch of life, my love. Just look at our good luck Just look at our bad luck It’s so beautiful and chaotic The bitch of life, my love. Living to trick death Today we’re going out dancing
* Um nó da garganta is what english speakers would call “a lump in the throat”, so she’s talking about grief, panic or some other strong emotion
`**Should I even be translating “saudade” at this point?
I’m trying to get familiar with Carolina Deslandes’ back catalogue now that I have tickets to see her. When I reached “Dois Dedos de Testa” I was intrigued by the title, which means “two fingers of forehead”. What could it mean? I went down a few dead-ends when I researched it: the first site I found was explaining that having dois dedos de testa (ie, a forehead that’s more than two fingerwidths deep) was a sign of whether or not a fringe would suit you. But I was pretty sure the sing wasn’t about hair styling. I finally found this page which sums it up in the first line
Ter dois dedos de testa costuma ser sinónimo de gente inteligente, com boa cabeça
The scientists in this old ad for Tefal appliances were rocking a solid oito dedos de testa.
So I think that’s the relevant meaning: being clever, having common sense. I’m going to translate “ter dois dedos de testa” as “to be smart” in the lyrics for simplicity’s sake and because “to have two fingerwidths of forehead” would sound ridiculous.
The video also starts with “fátima futebol fado”, which was the Estado Novo’s equivalent to “bread and circuses”: the way of focusing the population’s attention away from thoughts of revolution. She changes it to one she likes better.
All in all, I really like the lyrics. Sometimes I do these translations and the lyric are baffling, sometimes they’re too easy, but I like that this had some mysteries that could be solved and led me to discover new things.
Dois Dedos de Testa
Português
Inglês
Ser mulher aqui é ser mulher de quem? Ter um papel assinado pra ser alguém Ser decente, quem se apresenta à mãe Mesmo que o filho não valha a mulher que tem
Being a woman here means being who’s wife?* To have a role assigned to be someone To be decent, someone fit to meet your mother Even though the son isn’t worthy of the woman he has
Ser mulher aqui é ser submissa Rezar o terço, dizer sim e ir à missa Não ter opinião, ser bonita Ser tão nova quanto o estado e andar bem vestida
To be a woman here is to be submissive Pray the rosary**, say yes and go to mass Don’t have a opinion, be pretty Be as young as the state*** and be well-dressed
E eu que tenho a liberdade debaixo dos braços Tenho brasas a arder debaixo dos pés Pus uma pedra sobre o meu passado E se o que eu sou ofende quem és
And i who have freedom in my grip**** I have coals burning under my feet I put a stone on top of my past***** And if who I am offends, who you are
Deixa-me abanar a cabeça, põe mais vinho nesta mesa Que eu, eu quero esquecer Quero ser o centro da festa, o assunto da conversa Eu, eu quero aparecer
Let me shake my head, put more wine on this table Because me, I want to forget I want to be the centre of the party, the subject of conversation Me, I want to appear
Deixa-me abanar a cabeça, põe mais vinho nesta mesa Que eu, que eu hoje faço um brinde Quero ser dona da festa, tenho dois dedos de testa Sou a voz e nem sou boa ouvinte
Let me shake my head, put more wine on this table Because me, I want to make a toast I want to be the mistress of the party, be smart I’m the voice and I’m not a good listener
Foi deixada, abandonada É carente e mal amada Está tão triste e tão sozinha Pobrezinha
She was left, abandoned She was needy and barely loved She’s so sad and so alone Poor thing!
Sem apelido e sem marido E de quem será o filho? Está cansada, ela trabalha Coitadinha, coitadinha
Without a surname, without a husband And who’s child is it? She’s tired, she works Poor thing, poor thing!
Deixa-me abanar a cabeça, põe mais vinho nesta mesa Que eu, eu quero esquecer Quero ser o centro da festa, o assunto da conversa Eu, eu quero aparecer
Let me shake my head, put more wine on this table Because me, I want to forget I want to be the centre of the party, the subject of conversation Me, I want to appear
Deixa-me abanar a cabeça, põe mais vinho nesta mesa Que eu, que eu hoje faço um brinde Quero ser dona da festa, tenho dois dedos de testa Sou a voz e nem sou boa ouvinte
Let me shake my head, put more wine on this table Because me, I want to make a toast I want to be the mistress of the party, be smart I’m the voice and I’m not a good listener
E eu que tenho a liberdade debaixo dos braços Tenho brasas a arder debaixo dos pés Pus uma pedra sobre o meu passado E se o que eu sou ofende quem és
And I who have freedom in my grip**** I have coals burning under my feet I put a stone on top of my past***** And if who I am offends, who you are
Deixa-me abanar a cabeça, põe mais vinho nesta mesa Que eu, eu quero esquecer Quero ser o centro da festa, o assunto da conversa Eu, eu quero aparecer
Let me shake my head, put more wine on this table Because me, I want to forget I want to be the centre of the party, the subject of conversation Me, I want to appear
Deixa-me abanar a cabeça, põe mais vinho nesta mesa Que eu, que eu hoje faço um brinde (brinde) Quero ser dona da festa, tenho dois dedos de testa Sou a voz e nem sou boa ouvinte
Let me shake my head, put more wine on this table Because me, I want to make a toast I want to be the mistress of the party, be smart I’m the voice and I’m not a good listener
* This sentence loses a lot of its cleverness in the translation, I think
***Another one that loses some of its force in english – it’s another reference to the Estado Novo, if I read it correctly
****Debaixo do braço is a set phrase meaning grasped under the arm, next to the body, so I am picturing her holding liberdade like a rugby ball
*****This one smelled like an expression too. Most results return as “colocar uma pedra sobre” and “pôr” is less common but obviously scans better. You can find both on this page. I think we’re meant to imagine the stone as a paperweight you put on your work when you’ve finished writing or something. It means what we would now call “drawing a line under” the subject, basically, putting a full stop to the sentence.
Luso 