Porto Sentido

Hello! Today we have Porto Sentido, which is a Portuguese poem by Carlos Tê. Since I couldn't find any professional translation, I have translated it myself.

He who comes and crosses the river

Along Serra do Pilar

Sees an old building

Which runs to the sea.

He who sees it from the bridge

Mistakes it for a cascata são-joanina

Over the hill,

Amid the fog,

Through narrow streets and sidewalks,

From Ribeira to the Foz,

Past dirty and worn stones

And sad and lonely lamps.

Its somber and seriousness

Of a rosto de cantaria

Hide the mistery

Of such dark and beautiful light.

Its dull brown

Its enclosed manners

Abandoned house 

That shatters a feeling...

And 'tis always the first time,

Each time of return

The same pride

Of a hurt Milhafre.

Translator's notes:

Porto sentido implies a double-meaning, since we have the verb sentir(to feel) and the noun sentido(meaning).

The river is the river Douro, which runs along Pilar Range.

Cascata São-Joanina is a kind of popular nativity art. It is usually built for Saint John festivities.

Milhafre is a pray bird typical of Portugal.

Porto Sentido

Olá! Hoje temos mais um poema, dessa vez em Português! É "Porto Sentido", um poema sobre a cidade de Porto, de Carlos Tê.

Quem vem e atravessa o rio,
junto à serra do Pilar,
vê um velho casario
que se estende ate ao mar.

Quem te vê ao vir da ponte
és cascata são-joanina
dirigida sobre um monte,
no meio da neblina,

Por ruelas e calçadas,
da Ribeira até à Foz,
por pedras sujas e gastas
e lampiões tristes e sós.

E esse teu ar grave e sério
dum rosto de cantaria
que nos oculta o mistério
dessa luz bela e sombria.

Ver-te assim abandonada
nesse timbre pardacento,
nesse teu jeito fechado
de quem mói um sentimento...

E é sempre a primeira vez,
em cada regresso a casa,
rever-te nessa altivez
de milhafre ferido na asa.

Aqui há um site bacana que explica algumas referências culturais que há no poema.

Lindo, não?

 Oi! Hoje temos uma canção popular da Holanda escrita por S. Abramsz. Como não falo Holandês, procurei traduções para a canção, mas não encontrei.

S. Abramsz. nasceu em Amsterdã em 1867 e morreu em 1924. Ele trabalhou como professor  e também escrevia livros de literatura infantil. Se você souber Holandês e estiver disposto a me ajudar com a tradução do poema, por favor entre em contato!

Até a próxima!

Para ver a versão em Inglês, clique aqui.

Holland's song

Hi! Here we have a song written by S. Abramsz. It is in Dutch! In fact, I searched for a translation but I couldn' find any. And the one available on the youtube website is not very accurate.

S. Abramsz was born in Amsterdan in 1867 and he died in 1924. He worked as a teacher and he also wrote books fro children. So, if you speak Dutch and are willing to help me, please reply with your translation. And if you have more info about Abramsz, please contact me. Until next time!

Ps. Thank you to familie_woldhuis for sending me the poem.

 O Captain! my Captain!

Have you watched "Dead Poets Society"? In the end of the movie, there is a famous scene in which the guys stand over their desks and shout "O Captain! my Captain!" in recognition to Mr. Keating, their former English teacher who got unfairly sacked. Anyway, it's one of the most famous scenes ever! But do you know where the idea of a "captain" comes from in poetry? It comes from Walt Whitman's poem "O Captain! my Captain!", which was written in 1865, just after president Abraham Lincoln was assassinated. Then, we can assume that the dead captain represents Lincoln and, of course, the victorious ship is a metaphor to the US after the Civil War. I advise you to listen to the poem declamation as you read it.

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:

But O heart! heart! heart!

O the bleeding drops of red,

Where on the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;
For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

Here Captain! dear father!

This arm beneath your head;

It is some dream that on the deck,

You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;

Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!

But I, with mournful tread,

Walk the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

 Cool, right? Special thanks to Carol(Postcrossing).
For more info, check the American Library of Congress website. And for the Portuguese version, click here.

O Captain! my Captain!

Você já viu aquele filme "Sociedade dos Poetas Mortos"? No final dele, há uma famosa cena em que os garotos sobem em cima das carteiras e clamam "O Captain! my Captain!" para homenagear seu professor, Sr. Keating, que fora demitido injustamente.  É uma das cenas mais famosas do cinema. Mas você sabia da onde veio a referência a "Captain"? Bem, veio de um poema escrito por Walt Whitman em 1865, por ocasião do assassinato do presidente Abraham Lincoln. Dessa forma, a figura do Capitão do navio, morto, representaria o presidente assassinado e, o navio vitorioso, os EUA que acabavam de sair da Guerra Civil. Ouça a declamação do poema enquanto vc lê.

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:

But O heart! heart! heart!

O the bleeding drops of red,

Where on the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;
For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

Here Captain! dear father!

This arm beneath your head;

It is some dream that on the deck,

You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;

Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!

But I, with mournful tread,

Walk the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

Encontrei uma tradução bem legal(autoria de Luciano Meira):
Ó Capitão ! meu Capitão ! Finda é a temível jornada,
                Vencida cada tormenta, a busca foi laureada.
                O porto é ali, os sinos ouvi, exulta o povo inteiro.
                Com o olhar na quilha estanque do vaso ousado e austero.
                 
                            Mas ó coração, coração !
                            O sangue mancha o navio,
                            No convés, meu Capitão
                            Vai caído, morto e frio.

                Ó Capitão ! meu Capitão ! Ergue-te ao dobre dos sinos;
                Por ti se agita o pendão e os clarins tocam seus hinos.
                Por ti buquês, guirlandas...Multidões a praias lotam.
                Teu nome é o que elas clamam; para ti os olhos voltam.

                             Capitão, querido pai,
                             Dormes no braço macio...
                             É meu sonho que ao convés
                             Vais caído morto e frio.

                 Ah! meu Capitão  não fala, foi do lábio o sopro expulso,
                 Meu calor meu pai não sente, já não tem vontade ou
                                                            /   pulso.
                 Da nau ancorada e ilesa, a jornada é concluída.
                 E lá vem ela em triunfo da viagem antes temida.

                              Povo, exulta ! Sino, dobra !
                              Mas meu passo é tão sombrio...
                              No convés meu Capitão
                              Vai caído, morto e frio.

Legal, né?
Para mais informações, visite o site da Biblioteca do Congresso dos EUA. Referência. Versão em Inglês.

The Man in The Glass

Hi there! Long time no see. Sorry about that, I've been busy with my major and my work. But I am back, for good.
Today's poem was sent to me by a friend from Schenectady, NY(USA). It is called The Man in The Glass.

"When you get what you want in your struggles for self, and the world makes you king for a day. Just go to a mirror and look at yourself and see what that man has to say.
You may fool the whole world down the pathway of years, and get pats on the back as you pass, but your final reward will be heartache and tears, if you've cheated the man in the glass"

Now, who is the author of that interesting bit of poetry??? :)

Until next time, Carpe Diem!