Cotidiano de uma brasileira em Paris, comentarios sobre cultura, politica e besteiras em geral. Entre le faible et le fort c'est la liberté qui opprime et la loi qui libère." Jean-Jacques Rousseau

Monday, March 29, 2010

I dedicate this humble translation - which doesn't even begin to do justice to the original - to all the men and women who have dedicated their lives (and paid the highest price) to social justice and equality.

This song was written during the dictatorship in Brasil (1964-1984), under censorship, which might explain the lyrics' allusive quality. It sketches the life of many men and women who went underground, changed identity many times, and ended up getting killed resisting tyranny.


(A.C. Jobim/Paulo César Pinheiro)

No jardim das rosas
De sonho e medo
Pelos canteiros de espinhos e flores
Lá, quero ver você
Olerê, Olará, você me pegar

In the garden of roses
of dream and fear
Through the thorn and flower ridden plots
There, I want to see you
Catch me

Madrugada fria de estranho sonho
Acordou João, cachorro latia
João abriu a porta
O sonho existia

Cold night of strange dream
Awoke John, a dog was barking
John opened the door
The dream existed

Que João fugisse
Que João partisse
Que João sumisse do mundo
De nem Deus achar, Ierê

That John would run away
That John would leave
That John would vanish in the world
That not even God would find him

Manhã noiteira de força viagem
Leva em dianteira um dia de vantagem
Folha de palmeira apaga a passagem
O chão, na palma da mão, o chão, o chão

Gloomy morning forcing the voyage
Bringing it further, a whole day ahead
Palmtree leaf erases the trail
The ground in the palm of a hand, the ground, the ground

E manhã redonda de pedras altas
Cruzou fronteira de servidão
Olerê, quero ver
Olerê

Full morning of tall mountains
Crossed the frontier of servitude
I want to see

E por maus caminhos de toda sorte
Buscando a vida, encontrando a morte
Pela meia rosa do quadrante Norte
João, João

Through the luckiest bad paths
Searching for life, finding death
In the North quadrant of a compass rose
John, John

Um tal de Chico chamado Antônio
Num cavalo baio que era um burro velho
Que na barra fria já cruzado o rio
Lá vinha Matias cujo o nome é Pedro
Aliás Horácio, vulgo Simão
Lá um chamado Tião
Chamado João

A certain Frank called Anthony
On a bay horse that was an old donkey
Who by the cold shoal having crossed the river
There came Mathias whose name was Peter
Also known as Horace, sometimes called Simon
Now a man named Sebastian
Called John

Recebendo aviso entortou caminho
De Nor-Nordeste pra Norte-Norte
Na meia vida de adiadas mortes
Um estranho chamado João

Warned, detoured
From north-north-east to north-north
In the half-life of postponed deaths
A stranger called John

No clarão das águas
No deserto negro
A perder mais nada
Corajoso medo
Lá quero ver você

In the waters' clarity
In the dark desert
Nothing more to lose
Brave fear
There I want to see you

Por sete caminhos de setenta sortes
Setecentas vidas e sete mil mortes
Esse um, João, João
E deu dia claro
E deu noite escura
E deu meia-noite no coração
Olerê, quero ver
Olerê

Through seven paths of seventy chances
Seven hundred lives and seven thousand deaths
This one John, John
And the day shone
And the night fell
And it was midnight in his heart
I want to see

Passa sete serras
Passa cana brava
No brejo das almas
Tudo terminava
No caminho velho onde a lama trava
Lá no todo-fim-é-bom
Se acabou João

Passing the mountain range
Passing the wild sugarcane
On the heath of souls
Everything ended
On that old path where the mud brakes
There where all ends are good
Ended John

No Jardim das rosas
De sonho e medo
No clarão das águas
No deserto negro
Lá, quero ver você
Lerê, lará
Você me pegar

In the rose Garden
Of dream and fear
In the waters' clarity
In the dark desert
There, I want to see you

Catch me


iHasta la Victoria, Siempre!

Obrigada, Maestro.

1 comment:

Carl Johnson said...

Ace translation. Thanks. Let's play it over the weekend.

C'est la lutte finale