Traduceri de versuri romanesti si engleze

José Mário Branco - versuri traducere în engleză


English
A A

Song of the travellers

It was along the travel
Without any weapons nor baggage
Nor the coats of arms of the crew
It was in the return
 
Moratory fatherland
In the heart of history
You who consumed the glory
In a dinner
 
It was as if Portugal
For its good and for its worse
Was searching for an end
To begin
 
Avid violence
Reverse of innocence
Salt of the inconscience
That there is in the sea
 
Impire so small
????????????
Pockets of sin and bell
In each hand
 
Imaginary fatherland
Of varied consistence
Daily affirmation
Of your no
 
The bags of the portuguese
Are like the eyes of the ????
That are munched three times
On each floor (?)
 
Candid ignorance
Great unimportance
Of the fruits of wandering
It’s in the past, long gone
 
Oh our lady of the sailors
Of Africa, from the salt and the sea only I was spared
It was in order to find myself that tomorrow I lost myself
Long is the time in which I’m no longer here
 
Oh our lady of the Maybe-Many-More-Signs
Rescue this colonial waste
It was in the cold night that the day blinded me
I went just now, just now I’m no longer here
 
Oh our Lady of the Forgotten Ones remind me
The way that comes to here and from here
Blah blah blah and stuff, Portugal is us in the Sea
I’ve come just now and I’m still far from arriving
 
Oh our Lady of My Equals that I subtracted
?????????????
If it’s so big the soul in the palm of my being
Someday I will finally happen
 
Why not try another point of view
The history of the others who will tell
If any colony without colonist
Is the ones who were already there
 
Let’s try then to see the thing from the opposite way
From the point of view of those who did not arrive
Because if I was a black man called Zé Mário
I would not be who I am
 
The sailors arrived here at home
And everything was new for them and for me
The cross and the sword and the burning eyes
Why did you treat me like this?
 
It’s not our fault if those who came here
Were not bothered when they knew of the horror
History doesn’t look at those who get in the way
And what was belongs to whoever it is
 


Mai multe traduceri de versuri din acest artist: José Mário Branco

Toate versurile în limba engleză de pe acest site pot fi utilizate numai în scopuri personale și educaționale.

Toate versurile sunt proprietatea și drepturile de autor ale proprietarilor sau proprietarilor respectivi.

Mai multe traduceri de versuri

01.02.2025

Doctor Faust





Oh, Doctor Faust
Behind you, do you see all these years you've spent wasting your life?
It's time for you to let yourself live life
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
Diving like this into dead languages, that's not life
If you spend time with them, living languages will revive you
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
Science is a well where you drown yourself, if you want my opinion
Descend into the well of pleasure because that's life
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
Leave your Talmudic and astrologic studies behind
Instead, prepare a thesis on my anatomy
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
Throw your books away, forget Latin, smile at live
In my arms, you'll get to know love and life
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
I like your physique, leave physics behind, discover life
Looking together, in physical love, the meaning of life
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
I like your physique, leave physics behind, discover life
Looking together, in physical love, the meaning of life
 


01.02.2025

On board of the Aspasia





You traveled in pursuit of your destiny
To white but mournful Switzerland
Always in the deck in a chez-lung downstairs
by the familiar and saddest cause
 

Always restlessly your folks have been prowling around
But you, staring at the wings, were indifferent
You laughed bitterly at what they said because you felt
That you were travelling to the land of death
 

One night when we were passing through Stroboli
You said to some laughing man in a joking tone:
'How my sick body looks as it burns,
to the flaming top of the volcano!'
 

Then I saw you in Marcilia as you were lost
in the noise without turning back
And I who loved only the wet expanse,
I say I could love thee
 


01.02.2025

Gramophonomaniac





In room of miss Janka
winders and curtains tremble
Like in a fury there a gramophone plays
Because miss Janka is a gramophone maniac
From morning to morning constantly plays.
Syrena’s records are still brought by miss Janka,
She puts all of her money in it and continues to sing
 

And I play on gramophone
trali tralalla la, trali
tralalla la
In winter at home, in the summer on the balcony
trali tralalla la, gramophone plays
And nothing worries me,
I have Syrena’s records
When something annoys me - I play on the gramophone
Because when I play on the gramophone
then in gramophone I have my all concerns
 

Neighbours of miss Janka, their wives and lovers declared, not being able to sleep at night:
We have enough of miss Janka,
that gramophone maniac,
the police needs to know about it
But when the officer came, miss Janka says
What to do, man, understand I’m afraid to sleep alone
 

And when I play on the gramophone
trali tralalla la, trali
tralalla la
In winter at home, in the summer on the balcony
trali tralalla la, gramophone plays
And nothing worries me,
I have Syrena’s records
When something annoys me then I play on the gramophone
Because when I play on the gramophone
then in gramophone I have all of my concerns
 

As soon as the strict officer heard it himself and wanted to give advice to the poor maiden
He says to miss Janka, that gramophone maniac
„A pity, I will sleep here”
And since then every night from miss Janka’s room
The bas of officer makes the curtains tremble
 

And I play on gramophone
trali tralalla la, trali
tralalla la
In winter at home, in the summer on the balcony
trali tralalla la, gramophone plays
And nothing worries me,
I have Syrena’s records
When something annoys me - I play on the gramophone
Because when I play on the gramophone
then in gramophone I have my all concerns
 


singable
01.02.2025

At the End of the Park





When sunset
makes the sky grow pale,
from the window,
I look around me.
 

At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me
like one evening
a year ago.
 

I watch you from afar and
in your hand,
there's
hidden more than one caress.
 

At the end of the park, I see you
running towards me,
of course,
I know it.
 

It's only an impression,
a trick of my heart
that makes me see
all this.
 

Tenderness
is something that
grows deep
in the soul.
 

If I remember
and if only
I think about you:
 

At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me
like one evening
a year ago.
 

I watch you from afar and
in your hand,
there's
hidden more than one caress.
 

At the end of the park, I see you
running towards me
and this time,
I know it.
 

You're no longer an impression,
a trick of my heart,
I've found
you again.
 

(At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me
like one evening
a year ago.)
 

At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me
like one evening
a year ago.
 

At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me...