Tag: translation

Posted in English, Portuguese

Povo que Lavas No Rio

Posted on by Colin Lusk

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 rioPeople 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!

Posted in Portuguese

Quim As You Are

Posted on by Colin Lusk

Today’s post is definitely Not Safe For Work. It’s filthy, in fact. Yesterday’s was a translation of a Quim Barreiros song but it wasn’t a very typical one, because it had been commissioned by someone else, so I thought I’d try something more mainstream. There are so many to choose from. “A Garagem da Vizinha” and “A Cabritinha” are big favourites, but I’ve always been intrigued by “Mestre de Culinária” because I can see there’s a double entendre going on but I can’t quite work out what he’s driving at, so here I go, deep-diving into it, trying to work out what he’s actually saying. Hopefully the experience will be educational, but if not, who cares, it’ll still be fun.

I’ll use a live version. Well… “live” in a manner of speaking. I think it’s overdubbed with the original track, but I like the vibe of the video because it looks like he’s singing at a student graduation ceremony and they’re all having such an amazing time and dancing like nobody’s watching in their capa e batina (aka “traje acedémico” – student robes). This just feels like the right way to enjoy music.

First of all, here’s a straight-up translation. I’ll get to the insinuação (innuendo) at the end.

Mestre de CulináriaMaster of Cookery
Sou solteiro e bom rapaz
Vivo num apartamento
Ainda sou muito novo
P’ra pensar em casamento		I’m single and a good lad
I live in a flat
I’m still pretty young
To think about marrying
Convido minhas amigas
P’ra comer e p’ra dançar
Mas demoro muito tempo
A preparar o jantar		I invite my girl friends over
To eat and dance
But I take a long time
To prepare the dinner
Eu sou o mestre de culinária
E sei enfeitar a travessa
Vou comprar uma panela de pressão
Para ver se eu cozinho mais depressa		I am the master of cookery
I know how to garnish the platter
I’m going to buy a pressure cooker
To see if I cook quicker
Sei que sou bom cozinheiro
Aprendi com a Isabelinha
Mas confesso que me faltam
Utensílios de cozinha		I know I’m a good cook
I learned from Isabelinha
But I admit I don’t have
Cooking utensils
Todas me dizem o mesmo
Que jantar delicioso
Quem tem fome desespera
Pois sou muito vagaroso		They all say the same thing to me
That the dinner was delicious
But anyone who’s hungry despairs
Because I’m so slow
Eu sou o mestre de culinária
E sei enfeitar a travessa
Vou comprar uma panela de pressão
Para ver se eu cozinho mais depressa		I am the master of cookery
I know how to garnish the platter
I’m going to buy a pressure cooker
To see if I cook quicker

Of course, a literal translation is easy enough, but reading between the lines to see the nudge-nudge-wink-wink meaning he’s trying to convey is much harder. For example, I’m pretty sure this page was written by an AI, judging by the structure of the text, and it seems to be taking it very much at face value. My first assumption, before I started writing this, was that the innuendo would turn out to be something about him really being a mestre de cunilíngua, but I’m not sure how taking a long time over that would be a bad thing.

Wait… Mestre de Cu… But doesn’t that mean…?

No, the clue probably should have been in the first syllable of cu-linária. He’s the mestre de cu.

And sure enough, the pay-off line “Para ver se eu cozinho mais depressa” sounds like “Para ver seu cuzinho mais depressa”. He wants to see his guest’s arse as soon as possible. So it seems his aim is to but a pressure cooker so he can cook quickly, get dinner over and done with and move on to… other things.

I can see a few other lines of possible innuendo: panela can mean bum/buttocks (4th definition here), but I don’t think he’s planning to buy pressure-buttocks, so I think that might be a red herring.

Travessa is an interesting one because it has quite a lot of meanings, both as a noun and an adjective. The ostensible meaning here is a long dish or platter, but it can also mean an act of crossing (travessar = atravessar) and that can – according to at least one online source – mean an act of penetration. I don’t see much evidence for that though. It’s a little difficult to tell though becaue if you start googling words like that the results you get look like the kinds of things you don’t want to click on. I think like the guy might have been overthinking it, but I could be wrong.

A more plausible line of enquiry with travessa is as the feminine form of travesso, which means bad, naughty, wicked. So it would mean something like “bad girl”. Enfeitar a travessa? Decorate the bad girl? In tauromaquia (bullfighting), enfeitar means to stick a farpa ( a decorated spear thingy) in a bull (some of the pictures on this page for example) so… Well, that certainly sounds like it might have some sort of double meaning. I don’t see any solid evidence for that either but it feels a little more likely than the previous suggestion.

That’s the chorus, but what about the rest? Is cooking a metaphor for something else? Well, the word “comer” (to eat) isn’t mentioned, but it is a slang word for having sex, so all this cooking imagery might be leaning in that direction. Is the theme of taking a long time implying he’s old and in need of viagra? Nah, that seems unlikely because he says right at the outset that he’s young. Obviously given the “eating” motif, oral sex has been suggested but I don’t really see it – I can’t put my finger on why, but I think the innuendo would be more obvious if it were that.

The whole thing has a general smutty air to it, but I think trying to spell out exactly how the smut works just feels like clutching at straws. Maybe the wider narrative is just a frame for the chorus and that’s where all the double-entendre lies.

Here’s the question I asked about this on Reddit

Coloqiei-me o* desafio hoje de traduzir uma canção de Quim Barreiros para inglês. O título é Mestre de Culinária.

Claro que já sabia que existem várias insinuações na letra, mas não percebi o que o poeta dizia. Depois do exercício, compreendo mais, mas acho que ainda não entendo cem por cento.

Hum… O trocadilho mais óbvio é “para ver se eu (seu) cozinho (cuzinho) mais depressa”, que ecoa a primeira sílaba de cu-linaria. Acho que “travessa” (um prato elongado) também tem duplo significado (manhosa”?), mas além disso, não tenho certeza. Quanto mais pensei, mais imaginei que havia insinuações em quase todas as palavras. Eu estava num corredor de espelhos sem saída.

Acabei por desistir antes de enlouquecer. O que me passou ao lado**

*”Coloqiei-me o desafio” strikes me as a really odd locution but that’s the correction. I wrote “fiz um desafio”

**I wrote “perdi o quê” for “what did I miss” but that’s not very idiomatic.

Posted in English, Portuguese

Educação Sexual

Posted on by Colin Lusk

I fancied doing another translation, and there’s a song I saw a while ago and mentally filed under “What the hell did I just see?” so here I am, coming back to give it a more thorough treatment.

I’ve definitely mentioned Joaquim de Magalhães Fernandes Barreiros before and I think described him as Portugal’s Benny Hill. He does smutty, innuendo-laden songs and he’s well-liked by many and perhaps a source of embarrassment to others. He’s well-known enough that Netflix chose him to promote its series Sex Education in Portugal – and here’s the result.

OK, well this is going to be fun. *Cracks Knuckles*

The first thing to point out is that a few times in the lyrics he addresses the listeners directly and he does this using the vós form of the imperative tense. This is pretty uncommon. In fact, the first time I saw it I almost had an aneurism becaue I thought it was a new tense that I’d never seen before. I’ll highlight it in the portuguese text for anyone who doesn’t recognise it.

Educação SexualSex Education
Rapazes e raparigas
Ligai o computador
Vamos todos aprender
Como é que se faz amor		Boys and girls
Turn on the computer
We’re all going to learn
How to make love
É hora de despertar
Para a vida sexual
Uns vão gostar de banana
Os outros de bacalhau		It’s time to wake up
To sexual life
Some people like banana
The others, cod
Seja homem ou mulher
Não importa a orientação
A realidade é sempre
Melhor que a fricção		Whether man or woman
It doesn’t matter the orientation
The reality is always
Better than friction*
Falai abertamente
De sexo sem timidez
Está na hora de começar
Aguentas oito de uma vez?		Speak openly
About sex, without shyness
It’s time to start
Can you handle eight at once?
Para cima, para baixo
Está no ir, está no quente
Enfiai devagarinho
E gozai suavemente		Up and down
It’s on the go**, it’s in the warm
Put it in slowly
And have fun***, gently
Para cima, para baixo
Está no ir, está no quente
Enfiai devagarinho
E gozai suavemente

Aguentas oito de uma vez?
Aguentas oito de uma vez?
Aguentas oito de uma vez?		Up and down
It’s on the go, it’s in the warm
Put it in slowly
And have fun, gently

Can you handle eight at once?
Can you handle eight at once?
Can you handle eight at once?

* Reality is better than f(r)iction is obviosuly a pun. There are a few ways of expressing the equivalent of “truth is stranger than fiction” in portuguese, but this is legitimately one of them – see this TSF Rádio Notícias article, for example.

**Not sure about the translation here. “Está no ir” isn’t a phrase that comes up a lot if you google it, but it does seem to mean what you’d think if you translated it literally “It’s on the go”

***Gozar usually means to enjoy something in european portuguese – “gozar de férias” (enjoy the holidays) is an example given on priberam, so I’ve just translated it like that. However, the fact that in brazilian portuguese it also means “have an orgasm” is pretty obviously going to be relevant, given what he’s singing about!

Posted in English, Portuguese

Da Weasel – Dialectos da Ternura

Posted on by Colin Lusk

Another translation today: it’s a rap, but it’s surprisingly easy to translate. Or rather, I didn’t have any impossible slang to deal with. I daresay a professional translator would laugh at it, but that’s OK.

Dialectos de TernuraDialects of Tenderness
Yoo
Ela diz que me adora quando a noite vai a meio
Eu sinto-me melhor pessoa, menos fraco, feio
Passa o dedo na rasta com a mão bem suave
Encosta o lábio no ouvido e diz-me: Queres que a lave?
Vamos para o chuveiro e ela flui com a água
Lava-me a cabeça, a alma e qualquer resto de mágoa
Diz que o meu amor lhe dá um certo calor na barriga
É aí que eu sei que quero ser para sempre aquele nigga
Que lhe mete a rir, rir, quando eu lhe faço vir
Da terra até à lua mano, é sempre a subir
E somos grandes, gigantes com dez metros de altura
Falamos vinte línguas, dialectos da Ternura
Tipo

Uhh, uhh!
Yeah, yeah!
Faz, faz!
Dá, dá		Yo!
She tells me she adores me in the middle of the night
I feel like a better person, less weak, ugly
She runs her finger over my dreadlock* with her soft hand
Puts her lips to my ear and says “Do you want me to wash it?”
We go to the shower and she flows with the water
She washes my head, my soul and any remaining pain
She says my love makes her warm in her belly
It’s then that I know that I want to be that nigga
That makes her laugh, laugh when I make her come
From earth to the moon, man, she’s always rising
And we’re big, giant, ten metres tall
We speak twenty languages, dialects of tenderness.
Like

Uhh, uhh!
Yeah, yeah!
Do it! Do it!
Give it! Give it!
Água morna em pele quente poro aberto não perfura
A minha alma já tá nua e eu faço-lhe uma jura, jura
Para sempre teu depois da noite volvida
Um segundo ao teu lado já preenche uma vida
O conceito de tempo não entra na sensação
Aquilo que vivemos tá gravado no coração
Segura na minha mão e continua a canção
É a melhor que já ouvi reinventaste a paixão
Ela diz que me adora quando o dia vai a meio
O copo passa de meio vazio para meio cheio
A palavra ganha vida e fala à minha frente
Sigo calmo atrás dela deixo crescer a semente

E Diz-me
Uhh, uhh!
Yeah, yeah!
Faz, faz!
Dá, dá		Warm water on hot skin, open pore, doesn’t pierce
My soul is already naked and I swear to her, I swear
Forever yours, after the night has passed
One second by your side is a full lifetime
The concept of time doesn’t enter the senses
What we’re living is carved on our hearts
Hold my hand and continue the song
It’s the best I’ve ever heard, you’ve reinvented passion
She tells me she adores me in the middle of the night
The cup grows from being half empty to half full
The word comes to life and speaks in front of me
I follow her calmly and let the seed grow

Uhh, uhh!
Yeah, yeah!
Do it! Do it!
Give it! Give it!
Em cada beijo há uma frase, em cada frase há um verso
Em cada verso há um lado do lado inverso
De uma história que assombra a memória
Da leveza irrisória de uma conquista notória
Faço V de vitória, porque hoje eu sou rei
Ao lado da rainha com que sempre sempre sonhei
Foi por isto que esperei, em cada noite que amei
Ou pensei que amei porque é agora que eu sei
A razão da palavra consagrada
Que tanta gente dá à toa em troca de quase nada
Ela não tá espantada, pelo contrário, relaxada
Revê-se na expressão da expressão enamorar

E diz-me
Uhh, uhh!
Yeah, yeah!
Faz, faz!
Dá, dá		In each kiss, in each sentence there’s a verse
In each verse there’s another page on the opposite side
Of a story that overshadows the memory
Of the ridiculous lightness of a notorious conquest
I make the V for victory because today I’m the king
By the side of the queen I’ve always, always dreamed of
It was this I was hoping for, every night I loved
Or thought it loved, because now I know
The reason for the sacred word
That so many people give thoughtlessly in exchange for almost nothing
She’s not shocked, on the contrary, relaxed
It shows in the expression, the loving expression

Uhh, uhh!
Yeah, yeah!
Do it! Do it!
Give it! Give it!

According to Priberam, Rasta can be a rastafarian and by extension can also refer to dreadlocks as worn by rastafarians.

Posted in English, Portuguese

Se Esta Rua Fosse Minha

Posted on by Colin Lusk

Translation time! This one is by Oquestrada and it’s cool. I especially like how the ghost of Ernie, the fastest milkman in the west, shows up and starts playing a pocket trumpet.

These are lyrics. I thought she was just freestyling in the middle but then realised the lyrics I was using for the translation were totally different! It’s actually an older song, from Brasil, possibly from the 19th Century, and I’d picked up those lyrics instead of the Oquestrada version. They’re really different; in fact, even the title is slightly different. Brazilians use “essa” slightly more often than portuguese people, so the name of the song is “Se Essa Rua Fosse Minha” – Essa, not Esta. Anyway, deleted it all, started again, and here you go, with the right version.

PortugueseEnglish
Se esta rua, se esta rua
se esta rua fosse minha
eu mandava-a, eu mandava-a
eu mandava-a ladrilhar
com pedrinhas de rubi
só para o meu amor passar
Ah, se esta rua, se esta rua
se esta rua fosse minha
com pedrinhas de rubi
só para o meu amor passar		If this street, if this street
If this street were mine
I’d order it, I’d order it
I’d order it to be paved
With ruby cobblestones
Just for my lover to pass by
Ah, If this road were mine
I’d order it to be paved
With ruby cobblestones
Just for my lover to pass by
Ah, lá porque és feia tem calma
não te faltam seduções
mais vale ser linda de alma
do que linda de feições
mais vale ser linda de alma
do que linda de feições
Ai o amor, o amor
o amor é como a lua
ora cresce
ora mingua é
Ai o amor, o amor
o amor é como a lua
ora cresce
ora mingua
ah, pois é		Ah, just because you’re ugly, calm down
You don’t lack seductions
It’s better to have a beautiful soul
Than beautiful features
It’s better to have a beautiful soul
Than beautiful features
Oh love, love
Love is like the moon
Now it waxes
Now it wanes
Oh love, love
Love is like the moon
Now it waxes
Now it wanes
For sure
Que bom ser pequenino
ter pai, ter mãe, ter avós
ah, ter esperança no destino
e ter quem goste de nós
e ter quem goste de nós
e ter quem goste de nós
Ai, é tao bom ser pequenino		It’s so good to be a child
To have father, mother and grandparents
To have hope in our destiny
And to have people who like us
And to have people who like us
And to have people who like us
Oh it’s so good to be a child
Se esta rua, se esta rua
se esta rua fosse minha
eu mandava-a ladrilhar
com pedrinhas de rubi
só para o meu amor passar
Se esta rua fosse minha
eu mandava-a ladrilhar
só para o meu amor passar
só para tu e tu e tu e tu e tu
passar		If this street, if this street
If this street were mine
I’d order it, I’d order it
I’d order it to be paved
With ruby cobblestones
Just for my lover to pass by
Ah, If this road were mine
I’d order it to be paved
With ruby cobblestones
Just for my lover to pass by
Posted in English

Oh Lordy, it’s Eurovision Tonight!

Posted on by Colin Lusk

And I haven’t even heard the portuguese entry yet. Right, let’s get this up on screen and see what it’s like

Wow, it’s pretty good actually. I can’t see it winning – it’s no Amar Pelos Dois – but it’s better than the last few entries. There are some lyrics online, so here’s a translation.

First of all, the name. It should just be “Oh heart” but that sounds weird so I’m going to randomly insert the word “my” to make it sound more natural

PortugueseEnglish
Ai, coração
Que não me deixas em paz
Não me dás sossego, não me deixas capaz
Tenho a cabeça e a garganta num nó
Que não se desfaz e nem assim tu tens dó
Sinto-me tonta, cada dia pior
Já não sei de coisas que sabia de cor
As pulsações subiram quase pra mil
Estou louca, completamente senil		Oh my heart
That doesnt leave me in peace
That doesn’t give me calm, leaves me incapable
I have my head and my throat in a knot
That won’t untie itself and you have no pity
I feel dizzy, worse every day
I don’t know thigs I used to know by heart*
My pulse is up to almost a thousand
I’m crazy, completely senile
O peito a arder, a boca seca, eu sei lá
O que te fazer, amor, pra mim assim não dá
Porque parece que nem sou mais eu
Ai, coração
Ai, coração
Diz-me lá se és meu		My chest burning, my mouth dry, i don’t know
What to do to you, it’s not working out like this
Because it seems like I’m not myself any more
Oh my heart
Oh my heart
Tell me if you are mine
As horas passam e o sono não vem
Ouço as corujas e os vizinhos também
O meu juízo foi-se e por lá ficou
Alguém me tire deste estado em que estou
O doutor diz que não há nada a fazer
‘Caso perdido’, vi-o eu a escrever
Ando perdida numa outra dimensão
Toda eu sou uma grande confusão		The hours pass and the sleep doesn’t come
I listen to the owls and the neighbours too
My judgement left and stayed away
Someone take me out of this state I’m in
The doctor says there’s nothing that can be done
“Lost cause” I saw him write about me
I’m lost in another dimension
I’m all in a muddle
O peito a arder, a boca seca, eu sei lá
O que te fazer, amor, pra mim assim não dá
Porque parece que nem sou mais eu
Ai, coração
Ai, coração
Ai, coração
Diz-me lá se és meu		My chest burning, my mouth dry, i don’t know
What to do to you, it’s not working out like this
Because it seems like I’m not myself any more
Oh my heart
Oh my heart
Oh my heart
Tell me if you are mine
O peito a arder, a boca seca, eu sei lá
O que te fazer, amor, pra mim assim não dá
Porque parece que nem sou mais eu
Ai, coração
Ai, coração
Ai, coração
Ai, coração
Diz-me lá se és meu		My chest burning, my mouth dry, i don’t know
What to do to you, it’s not working out like this
Because it seems like I’m not myself any more
Oh my heart
Oh my heart
Oh my heart
Oh my heart
Tell me if you are mine

*Why doesn’t “cor” mean colour here? Well, cast your mind back to this post a few weeks back. The lyrics of that one talk about knowing “letras de cor” – knowing them off by heart. So it’s just an old usage of cor, meaning the same as coração.

Posted in English

Barco Negro

Posted on by Colin Lusk

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)

PortugueseEnglish
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
Posted in English

Pica do Sete

Posted on by Colin Lusk

I’ve already done a translation of an Antonio Zambujo song – Flagrante – but it was in the context of a grammar lesson so I thought I’d come back and have a go at one of his others – Pica do Sete. I mainly chose it because it always bothers me. I think he’s singing about a woman who’s punching his ticket but in the video the woman is a passenger and he’s… well, stalking her, really. And at the end there’s a male conductor, so maybe she’s supposed to be narrating? I dunno, maybe spending some time really getting into the lyrics will straighten it out in my mind.

First of all, the title. As far as I understand it, “o Sete” is the number 7 tram. Pica is a bit trickier and I suggest being careful how you use it because it can mean lots of different things including a spliff (in portugal) or a penis (in brazil) so you know… handle the word with care! Anyway, in this context, it’s the ticket inspector. I think it comes from the verb picar which means to puncture something. You can read more about the life of a “pica” on Lisbon trams in this really good blog post written at around the time the song was released.

PortugueseEnglish
De manhã cedinho
Eu salto do ninho e vou pra paragem
De bandolete à espera do sete
Mas não pela viagem
Eu bem que não queria
Mas um certo dia vi-o passar
E o meu peito cético
Por um pica de elétrico voltou a sonhar		Early in the morning
I jump out of my nest and go to the tram stop
Wearing an Alice band, waiting for the number 7
But not for the journey
I didn’t really want it
But one day I saw him pass by
And my skeptical heart*
Went back to dreaming about a tram conductor
A cada repique
Que soa do clique daquele alicate
Num modo frenético
O peito cético toca a rebate
Se o trem descarrila o povo refila e eu fico num sino
Pois um mero trajeto no meu caso concreto é já o destino		Every time the bell rings
When that clipper makes its clicking sound
In a frenetic way
The skeptic heart sounds the alarm
If the tram derails, the people complain and I’m quite happy**
Because, in my case, the route is the destination.
Ninguém acredita no estado em que fica o meu coração
Quando o sete me apanha
Até acho que a senha me salta da mão
Pois na carreira
Desta vida vão
Mais nada me dá a pica que o pica do sete me dá
Que triste fadário e que itinerário tão infeliz
Cruzar meu horário com o de um funcionário de um trem da carris		Nobody believes the state my heart gets into
When the number seven picks me up
Until I think the ticket will jump out of my hand
Because in the path
That this life takes
Nothing pierces me like the conductor on the number 7
What a sad fate, what an unfortunate timetable
To cross my schedule with that of a tram employee
Se eu lhe perguntasse
Se tem livre passe pró peito de alguém
Vá-se lá saber talvez eu lhe oblitere o peito também
Ninguém acredita no estado em que fica o meu coração
Quando o sete me apanha
Até acho que a senha me salta da mão
Pois na carreira desta vida vão
Mais nada me dá a pica que o pica do sete me dá		If I asked him
If he had a free pass for someone’s heart
Who knows, maybe I’ll invalidate*** his heart too
Nobody believes the state my heart gets into
When the number seven picks me up
Until I think the ticket will jump out of my hand
Because in the path
That this life takes
Nothing pierces me like the conductor on the number 7
Ninguém acredita no estado em que fica o meu coração
Quando o sete me apanha
Até acho que a senha me salta da mão
Pois na carreira desta vida vão
Mas nada me dá a pica que o pica do sete me dá
Mas nada me dá a pica que o pica do sete me dá		Nobody believes the state my heart gets into
When the number seven picks me up
Until I think the ticket will jump out of my hand
Because in the path
That this life takes
Nothing pierces me like the conductor on the number 7
Nothing pierces me like the conductor on the number 7

* The actual word is “chest” (peito) but “skeptic btreast” sounds weird

** Refilar and Sino both have multiple meanings. I originally thought the passengers are leaving the tram and queuing for the next one, but she is staying in, ignoring everything (metaphorically under a glass bell jar) because she wants to stay where she is. That doesn’t seem to case. Refilar usually means to grumble and complain and that’s what it means here. “Estar num sino” just means to be well-disposed and calm, according to this page. It doesn’t seem to be a very well-known expression though, judging by people’s reactions when I asked.

***Obliterar obviously sounds like obliterate and usually means the same but one of the meanings Priberam gives is to invalidate something by means of a stamp or a mark or by piercing it – so basically what a tram conductor does to a ticket then!

OK, well I think we can be pretty sure that the narrator of the song is the female passenger and she’s got the hots for the male conductor. The singer is just voicing her interior monologue, not stalking her. I’ve highlighted the two words that give the clue: she says she’s wearing a bandolete – an alice band or hairband. Well, men can wear those but it’s unusual, and the woman in the video has one but Zambujo doesn’t. Then fuurther down he says “um pica” not uma pica, so it’s a male conductor.

If I were portuguese and wanted to study the equivalent male phenomenon, I guess I’d have to analyse the old sitcome “On the Buses”. Coincidentally, I’ve recently watched my first episode of that. My daughter is obsessed with Reece Shearsmith at the moment and apparently they are planning to do an On the Buses parody in the current series of Inside Number 9. I’m old but even I’m not old enough to remember it when it was first broadcast.

Further musings about the expression “estar num sino”

I gently pointed out in reddit that it was surprising that quite a well-known song had an expression in it that hardly anyone understood and people seemed to be fine with not knowing what he was in about. Obviously there are plenty of songs in English that are the same (try listening to the lyrics of “Whiter Shade of Pale” sometime for example) so it’s not really surprising, but I thought it was fun to ask if people were actually listening to the lyrics.

Fiz uma pergunta ontem sobre a letra de uma música do António Zambujo. Há uma expressão na canção que diz “Fico num sino” que mal entendi*. O que mais me marcou foi o facto de os** respondentes também não saberem o significado da frase. Mas… É uma canção bem conhecida não é? Será que grande parte das pessoas ouviram a música e pensaram “Pois é, está presa*** numa campainha. Faz todo o sentido”

* mal entendi meaning I barely understood it. Maybe should have written “entendi mal” (i misunderstood it) or não entendi (i didn’t understand it) to be more accurate.

**de and os are separate here because “o facto de” is a sort of standalone expression.

*** apesar do cantor ser masculino a narradora da canção não é.

Posted in English, Portuguese

Morena

Posted on by Colin Lusk

I did a Tiago Bettencourt translation the other day, so let’s have a go at “Morena” too, not becaue it’s my favourite song of his, but because it has some nice guitar work.

Trigger Warning: Scrabble Crimes

OK, potentially controversial decision: I’m translating “Morena” as “Brunette”, because that’s the closest I can get to a literal translation. It’s not quite right though, for two reasons. Firstly, there’s a sense of the person’s skin being tanned or olive-toned as well as their hair being dark brown; and secondly, I think referring to women as blondes, brunettes, redheads has a slightly disrespectful tone in english (at least in some circles) and I think that’s less true in portuguese. That’s partly a linguistic thing: in Portuguese it’s more usual to use an adjective as a noun – for example “um inglês” not “um homem inglês” – and partly because we have a tendency to overthink things in the english-speaking world, especially a certain very large country situated a few hundred miles north of Brazil. Anyway, with that dislcaimer, let’s crack on.

PortugueseEnglish
Esta morena não sabe
O que o dia tem para lhe dar
Diz-me que tem namorado
Mas sem paixão no olhar
Tem um risinho pequeno
E que só dá de favor
Corpo com sede de quente
Mas que não sente calor
Mas que não sente calor

Esta morena não dança
Quando lhe mostro Jobim
Talvez não goste da letra
Talvez não goste de mim
Cabelo negro sem regra
Caindo em leve ombro nu
Feito de morno passado
E amor que nunca cegou
E amor que nunca cegou

Morena no fundo quer
Tempo para ser mulher
Morena não sabe bem
Mas eu no fundo sei
Que quando o véu lhe cai
Quando o calor lhe vem
Sempre que a noite quer
Sonha comigo também

Há sítios que ela não usa
Por não saber que estão cá
Há mares que ela não cruza
Por não ser eu a estar lá
É de mim que ela precisa
Para lhe dar o que não quer
Talvez lhe mostre caminhos
Onde se queira perder
Onde se queira perder

Esta morena não chora
Com um fado negro de Oulman
Nem com um poema de O’Neill
Na primeira luz da manhã
Sabe de tantos artistas
Canta-me letras de cor
Mas não lhe passam por dentro
Não lhes entende o sabor
Não lhes entende o sabor

Morena no fundo quer
Tempo para ser mulher
Morena não sabe bem
Mas eu no fundo sei
Que quando o véu lhe cai
Quando o calor lhe vem
Sempre que a noite quer
Sonha comigo também

Esta morena não corre
Quando a chamo para mim		This brunette doesn’t know
What the day has to give her
She tells me she has a boyfriend
But without any passion in her eyes
She has a little laugh
That she only gives as a favour
Body that thirsts for warmth
But doesn’t feel heat
But doesn’t feel heat

This brunette doesn’t dance
When I show her Jobim
Maybe she doesn’t like the lyrics
Maybe she doesn’t like me
Black, unruly hair
Falling on a light, naked shoulder
Made by boredom gone by
And love that never blinded her
And love that never blinded her

Deep down, the brunette wants
Time to be a woman
The brunette doesn’t really know
But deep down, I know
That when her veil falls
When the warmth comes back to her
Whenever the night chooses
She dreams of me* too.

There are places she doesn’t use
Because she doesn’t know they’re here
There are seas she doesn’t cross
Because I’m not there
It’s me she needs
To give her what she doesn’t want
Maybe I’ll show her paths
Where she wants to lose herself
Where she wants to lose herself

This brunette doesn’t cry
with the dark fado of Oulman
Nor with the poetry of O’Neill
In the first light of morning
She knows so many artists
She sings me lyrics by heart**
But they don’t get inside her
She doesn’t understand their flavour
She doesn’t understand their flavour

Deep down, the brunette wants
Time to be a woman
The brunette doesn’t really know
But deep down, I know
That when her veil falls
When the warmth comes back to her
Whenever the night chooses
She dreams of me too.

This brunette doesn’t run
When I call her to me

*= Remember “sonha comigo” might look like “dreams with me” – implying they are sleeping together – but it means “dreams of me”, which is a different kettle of fish! One of those instances where the use of prepositions can give you a slightly different mental image if you’re not careful.

**= Letras “de cor” sounds like it should mean colourful lyrics but there’s an older meaning of cor that is the same as coração, so it’s just like the english expression “knowing something by heart”

Morenas: Expectativas x Realidade
Posted in English, Portuguese

Canção de Engate

Posted on by Colin Lusk

I haven’t done a song translation for while and I fancied having a go at “Cancao de Engate” by António Variações. There aren’t many decent videos of it and anyway he’s a bit hard to follow because of his distinctive singing style so if you don’t know it, try this orchestral acoustic version by Tiago Bettencourt

Cancão de Engate

My sense, going into it, is that it uses a lot of slightly oblique language so this is going to be a tricky one, but here goes…

Tu estás livre e eu estou livre
E há uma noite p’ra passar
Porque não vamos unidos
Porque não vamos ficar
Na aventura dos sentidos		You’re free and I’m free*
And there’s a night to get through
Why don’t we get together
Why don’t we get
Into the adventure of the senses
Tu estás só e eu mais só estou
E tu tens o meu olhar
Tens a minha mão aberta
À espera de se fechar
Nessa tua mão deserta		You’re alone and I’m alone too
And you have caught my eye
You have my open hand
Ready to close
On your lonely hand
Vem que o amor não é o tempo
Nem é o tempo que o faz
Vem que o amor é o momento
Em que eu me dou
Em que te dás		Come, because love is not time
Nor is it time that makes it
Come, because time is the moment
In which I give myself
And you give yourself
Tu que buscas companhia
E eu que busco quem quiser
Ser o fim desta energia
Ser um corpo de prazer
Ser o fim de mais um dia		You who are looking for company
And me who is looking for whoever wants
To be the end of this energy
To be a body for pleasure
To be the end of another day
Tu continuas à espera
Do melhor que já não vem
Que a esperança foi encontrada
Antes de ti por alguém
E eu sou melhor que nada		You keep waiting
For something better that isn’t coming
Because what you hope for has already been found
By someone before you
And I am better than nothing
Vem que o amor não é o tempo
Nem é o tempo que o faz
Vem que o amor é o momento
Em que eu me dou
Em que te dás

x3		Come, because love is not time
Nor is it time that makes it
Come, because time is the moment
In which I give myself
And you give yourself

x3

* I’m sorry, but I am a man of a certain age but I am already reading this in a Mr Humphries voice

Hey, well that wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. One of the easier ones I’ve done, in fact!