quarta-feira, 3 de dezembro de 2008

Italian Eyes

You've been so far
Beyond my reach
That long past beach
How far you are!

Italian eyes
That made me love
Forever lost
How far, how far!

Your eyes I'll see
For life, you bet
In memory
To my regret

Inside my mind
I still have you
And deep inside
The pain is true

quarta-feira, 26 de novembro de 2008

Who's out there?

Welcome comments have long ceased to come to this and unwelcome ones never came (I'm in doubt now - should I thank or regret?).

I'm all too left to myself here with this blog meant to fetch me readers the blogosphere over.

This blog is certainly visible virtually everywhere now and so I tell you all, folks, that feeling ignored by the whole world has a certain intrinsic grandeur, for sure, not the kind I have first envisaged, though.

The girl who gave me the boat photo has told us all that the story connected therewith will remain untold by not saying a word about it. Readers who once dropped there and then apparently went God knows whereto for good since they never came back don't seem to care much, either.

Aren't I right in feeling forsaken? Whatever the case I just can't help feeling so. Upon my word, I hate feeling like that and being as much of an idiot as telling you so is the sole explanation I can find for having told I feel forsaken. Especially when I take into account the fact that I still expect to be read. Well, in case no one else reads this blog I won't merely feel forsaken, but will have actually been.

Can I withstand so much? Of course yes, I lie to myself (in utter bewilderment, since I hate to the limit of my strength all lies, liars and lying alike) while the mere though gives me an impression of actual forsakenness that's almost unbearable.

Is anyone out there? Is anyone out there?

terça-feira, 21 de outubro de 2008

On the Wing

The following poem I wrote this year and posted in another blog, Veleidades, where I also gave a literal "translation" of it into Portuguese, without any concern for the formal elements, just to give an idea of what it is about for those readers whose English is not fluent.
I don't consider the renderings into a language whatever of something an author wrote himself in some other language whatever translations. I take them for originals in their own right. That was exactly the case, as I wrote then.

Now, the poem:

I don’t know what you think,
I don’t know what you want
I don’t know what you need,
I don’t know what to say

I sometimes think you think
I am not what you want
I am not what you need
Which you don’t want to say

If you do, you may lose
Altogether with me
This man, whom you could choose
To make happy and free

Well, while sipping your drink
You were charming, blithe, pure
There’s much fun, don’t you think?
In all that, to be sure

There's a fact in my eye
Unbelievably true
I can’t easily lie
Let alone lie to you

So, next time when I stay
Anywhere you don’t see
Will you call just to say
You’ve been thinking of me?

I am home, here comes spring
In the sky, what a blue
Look! May heart’s on the wing
All the way to meet you

quarta-feira, 15 de outubro de 2008

Boat, My Untold Story

How do you like the freshly posted photo at the head of this blog? (Only now I learned how to do it. I'm a really slow-learning guy, for this kind of thing). Beautiful, isn't it?

Behind it there is a story I find at least as beautiful, and one I'll never tell here myself. Someone else may wish to tell it herself, and in such case (but only in such case) you are to know that story. That's why I call it now an untold story.

I am very thankful to her for having sent me said photo, and of course for much more than just that. I am very thankful to her for our having engaged for so long in so many usually silly talks about both and simultaneously everything and nothing, for one. Talks which have filled up gaps in our free time in a very pleasurable way, at least as far as I am concerned.

I still don't know whether I want to tell her I posted it here, but in case I decide never to tell her, maybe I'll never know if she ever found it out for herself or not. Maybe.

quarta-feira, 8 de outubro de 2008

A Poem by Rosemari and my English Rendereing Thereof

Since this blog, meant to deal with the subjects suggested by the title, is already on, I'll post today a poem originally written in Portuguese by my virtual friend Rosemari. She has also a blog át blogospot. Said poem she wrote reads:

Íntimas asas

Planar sonhos contigo
rasgar céus de tempestades
asas dançantes ao vento
em nuvens arrebatarmos

momentos f l u t u a n t e s
Entrelaçada em tuas asas
Olhar de cima, o chão
Tornar-me beija-flor

Brisa de versos na face
B a i l a n d o em sincronia
Pares róseos a bater
No ar _ Intimidades _

After a brief virtual conversation entertained with her I translated it into English as follows:

Intimate Wings

To glide dreams you and me
Stormy skies then to tear open
Dancing the wings to the Wind
In clouds we can seize, and will

Then moments which go floating
I’m intertwined now in your wings
At ground way down to look
A hummingbird become

Breeze in the face, of verses
In synchrony goes dancing
Ever flapping pinky pairs
In th’ air – Intimacies –

quarta-feira, 1 de outubro de 2008

For a Start

I'm a newcomer in the virtual world. And a latecomer, in a sense. The leftovers thereof do serve me right. I love them, though. There can be no denying.

This blog is for my English-speaking readers. I already have some, and God knows how many they may eventually become. I have been placing comments on blogs the world over, and those who return my visit usually have to rely on automatic translation to get an idea of what my blog in Portuguese is about.

So, no more guesswork. I'm writing here directly in English now. I hope this intiative will eventually improve my linguitic skills, of course depending on how much return in visits and comments I get.

In order to earn a living, I use to work as a freelance translator. Later on I may share further information about that, principally if I happen to get comments by colleagues from wherever my new blog may reach.

An initial experience I intend to share with you now, for a start, is my attempt at a singable English rendering for a well-known Brazilian song by Suely Costa, who gave me permission to blog it. "Coração Ateu".The original lyrics read:

Coração Ateu

O meu coração ateu quase acreditou
na sua mão que não passou de um leve adeus
Breve pássaro pousado em minha mão
Bateu asas e voou

Meu coração por certo tempo passeou
Na madrugada procurando um jardim
Flor amarela, flor de uma longa espera
Logo meu coração ateu

Se falo em mim e não em ti
É que nesse momento
Já me despedi

Meu coração ateu
Não chora e não lembra
Parte e vai-se embora

Then my English rendering, which I endeavored to make singable. Stressed syllbles are boldfaced for easier matching:

Godless Heart

This godless heart of me got close to believe
In your hand, nothing more than just light goodbye
Brief bird that upon a landing in my hand
Flapped its wings and flew away

My heart went out a certain while in promenade
Into the night and for a garden did it seek
A yellow flower, such a long-attendance flower
Right this old godless heart of me

I speak about myself, not you, in that this very moment
I just bid farewell
This godless heart of me won’t cry and won’t remember
Parts, and goes its way