My daughter has been telling people her favourite portuguese music is “Eu Tenho Dois Amores” by Marco Paulo, and she’s even sung the opening line to me a couple of times, but nothing could prepare me for the real thing.
I see a lot of people in the comments are nostalgic for it, and I get that: music that reminds you of a time and a place is always special. And I have to admit, the lad has or a set of pipes on him. But, as someone hearing it for the first time in 2023, it’s pretty cringe. The hair style, the little dance, the fact that he is singing about his two girlfriends who are completely different because um… they have different hair colours… Well, that’s the eighties for you, I suppose!
It’s time for another translation! This isn’t your avô’s fado, it’s a bit noisier and punkier than most of theportuguese music I’ve heard. “Quero Ser Um Ecrã” by Baleia Baleia Baleia
This is obviously about screens, and it could be any time of electronic screen, but I think it’s mostly used for handheld devices – which is presumably why they’ve got all the spectators in the video to film the whole thing and view it through their screens instead of just watching the performance. Screen is “Ecrã” in this sense. Masculine, despite the a at the end. I gather if it was a PC screen, that would be “monitor”, but tela and visor are also in use for similar kinds of surfaces – I just don’t hear them so often (Brazilian? Slang?). There’s also the word “biombo” which is the kind of screen you might find in a doctor’s surgery for example, for people to have privacy during procedures. Anyway, none of that – we’re thinking social media, mobile phones – all that stuff – happening on a screen.
Quero Ser um Ecrã
I want to be a screen
E a vida, a morte, em fotos no ecrã Os dias compridos e os olhos no ecrã O mundo perdido, achado no ecrã Quero ser um ecrã E os sonhos dos outros cumpridos no ecrã O monstro do visível escondido do ecrã Quero ser um ecrã, quero ser um ecrã
And life, death, in photos on the screen The short days and the eyes on the screen The lost world, found on the screen I want to be a screen And other people’s dreams, accomplished on the screen The monster of what’s visible, hidden on the screen I want to be a screen, I want to be a screen.
E as balas que nunca passam do ecrã A força dos gritos, regulável no ecrã As lendas e os mitos, imortais no ecrã Quero ser um ecrã Medos e incertezas no armário do ecrã Celulite e flacidez no ginásio do ecrã Quero ser um ecrã, quero ser um ecrã
And the bullets that never pass through the screen The force of the screams, adjustable on the screen The legends and the myths, immortal on the screen I want to be a screen Fears and uncertainties in the closet of the screen Celulite and flabbiness in the gymnasium of the screen I want to be a screen, I want to be a screen
[Ponte] E é sempre verão no ecrã E os corpos estão sempre nús E há tantos gatinhos no ecrã E sushi E bolinhos E coisas boas
[Bridge] And it’s always summer on the screen And the bodies are always naked And there are so many kittens on the screen And sushi And little cakes And good things
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!
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 Sexual
Sex 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!
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.
Portuguese
English
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
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
Portuguese
English
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.
I posted a music video yesterday, and I’ve got a few more lined up. This one doesn’t really ave any lyrics though, so consider it a palate cleanser. Orelha Negra are portuguese band and they’ve put one of their chilled-out tracks over some footage of Vhils doing his craxy explosive artworks. I’ve talked about Vhils before a couple of times and I quite like the effect of combining the two art forms in one.
I’ve been enjoying these lads – Bacalhau No Azeite – doing their rap videos on Instagram. It’s not exactly Kanye West but they have lyrics so I can follow what they’re saying and I quite like that. Strong recommendation for anyone who likes rap but isn’t too purist about it (or rather “anyone who doesn’t mind seeing the art form butchered in real time”)
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.
Portuguese
English
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”
Yesterday’s post was about the strange case of Fernando Pessoa’s advertising slogan for Coca Cola in 1927. As I mentioned, there seem to be a few different perspectives on the motives of the people involved, but I don’t think the facts of the matter are in doubt.
Anyway, it turns out that there’s a short movie about the incident. It’s made by a French company but it’s in portuguese with English subtitles. Someone’s put it on Facebook. Hurry though, it might not be there forever. It’s a good length and very easy to follow, so I can recommend it even if your listening skills are underdeveloped.
The film has a slightly playful, surreal tone. The name of the drink os given as “Coca Louca” and it translates the slogan as “First you’re surprised, then you’re possessed”, then plays with that idea of possession by showing the minister for health convinced that the drink contains evil demons which need to be cast out by an exorcist with a bottle opener in the shape of a crucifix!
It also depicts the poet not as Pessoa himself but as Álvaro de Campos, one of the heteronyms, who appears in the film as a separate person, looking just like the man himself.
Luso 