Canção Do Exílio / Exile’s Song

 Por / By – Antônio Gonçalves Dias

[Translated by / Traduzido Por]: Felipe Lohan Pinheiro da Silva

“¿ Kennst du das Land, wo die zitronen blühn,
(Você conhece tal terra, onde os limões brotam,)
(Do you know such a land, that bear lemons,)
İm dunklen laub die goldorangen glühn,
(As laranjas douradas brilham entre as folhas escuras,)
(The golden orange shines among the dark leaves,)
Ein sanfter wind vom blauen himmel weht,
(Um vento mais suave sopra do céu azul,)
(A softer wind blows from the blue sky,)
¿ Die myrte still und hoch der lorbeer steht?
(¿ Onde a murta se ergue quieta e o louro se ergue alto?)
(¿ Where the myrtle stands quiet and the laurel stands tall?)
¿ Kennst du es wohl?
(¿ Você conhece isso bem?)
(¿ Do you know it well?)
¡ Dahin, dahin!
(¡ Lá, lá!)
(¡ There, there!)

Möcht ich mit dir, o mein Geliebter, ziehn!
(¡ Eu gostaria, oh meu querido, de te trazer comigo!)
(¡ İ would like, oh my dear, of bring you w/ me!)”

Goethe – ¿ Kennst Du Das Land? / ¿ Você Conhece Tal Terra? / ¿ Do You Know Such A Land? (trecho traduzido por mim / excerpt translated by myself)

[Nota do tradutor: O texto foi escrito em alemão. Não sei a porra dessa língua, mas o traduzi usando vários dicionários online pra pesquisar o significado de cada uma dessas palavras. Depois as coloquei juntas pra construir o contexto geral. Este é o jeito de traduzir línguas que você não conhece.

Translator’s note: The text was written in German. İ don’t fucking know that language at all, but İ translated it by using several online dictionaries to check the meaning of each of the words. Later İ put them together to build the general context. That’s the way you translate languages you don’t know.]

***

Minha terra tem palmeiras,
(My land have palm trees,)
Onde canta o sabiá;
(Where the thrush sings;)
As aves, que aqui gorjeiam,
(The birds that sings here,)
Não gorjeiam como lá.
(Don’t it like the ones from there.)

Nosso céu tem mais estrelas,
(Our sky have more stars,)
Nossas várzeas têm mais flores,
(Our meadows/floodplains are more flowered,)
Nossos bosques tem mais vida,
(Our woods have a more abundant life,)
Nossa vida mais amores.
(Our life have more loved ones.)

[C.:]
Em cismar, sozinho, à noite,
(While meditating, alone, at night,)
Mais prazer encontro eu lá;
(İ feel that’s more pleasant the memories from there;)
Minha terra tem palmeiras,
(My land have palm trees,)
Onde canta o sabiá;
(Where the thrush sings;)

Minha terra tem primores,
(My land have wonders,)
Que tais não encontro eu cá;
(That İ don’t find here;)

(C.)

Não permita Deus que eu morra,
(God, don’t let me die,)
Sem que eu volte para lá;
(Before İ go back there;)
Sem que desfrute os primores
(Before enjoying the pleasures)
Que não encontro por cá;
(That İ don’t find here;)
Sem qu’inda aviste as palmeiras,
(Before having a sight of the palm trees,)
Onde canta o Sabiá.
(Where the thrush sings.)

Coimbra – 1843-Jul.
[Translator’s note: Coimbra is a Portuguese city.]

Poems By Álvares de Azevedo

 [Translated by / Traduzido Por]: Felipe Lohan Pinheiro da Silva

☙Sonnet❧

Pale, under the light of the gloomy lamp,
Lying down amidst the flower bed,
Embalmed like the Moon in the night,
¡ She slept among the clouds of the love!

İt was the Virgin of the Sea, in the cold sea-foam
¡ Lulled by the tide!
She was an angel among the clouds of the dawn
¡ That bathed herself while dreamt and forgot about that!

¡ She was the most beautiful one! Her heart beating...
Dark eyes under the opening eyelids...
Nude contours touching the bed...

¡ Don’t think that İ’m being funny, my cute angel!
Because of you –  İ wept while keeping the wake in the nights,
¡ Because of you – İ will die while smiling!

☙My Dream❧

[Me]:
Knight of the dark weapons,
¿ Where are you going through the impure darkness,
With that blood-stained sword in your hand?
¿ Why your flaming eyes are shining,
And the screams from your trembling lips,
Releases the fire from your heart?

¿ Knight, who are you? – ¿ The remorse?
You seat in the back of the steed...
And you ride through the valley...
¡ Oh! Raising the dust from the road
Don’t you hear the skeletons shrieking
¿ And the ghost biting your feet?

Where are you going through the impure darkness,
Knight of the dark weapons,
¿ Gaunt like a dead one in the tomb?...
¿ Do you hear... İn the tall mountain,
A throng following your gallop,
And a call for avenging rumbling?

¿ Knight, who are you? What a mystery...
Who plotted for your death in the Empire,
To make you wander by the haunted night?

[The Phantom]:
İ’m the dream of your hope,
Your fever that never gives a break,
¡ The delusion that will kill you!...

Poems by Augusto dos Anjos

 [Translated by / Traduzido Por]: Felipe Lohan Pinheiro da Silva

☙Psychology of a Defeated One❧

İ, the son of the carbon and of the ammonia,
Monster of darkness and shining,
İ suffer, since the epigenesis of my infancy,
The bad influence of the zodiac signs.

Deeply hypochondriac,
This environment makes me sick...
İ feel a nausea analogous to a nausea coming to my mouth
That come out of the mouth of a cardiac.

About the Vermin – this worker of the ruins -
That eats the rotten blood from the slaughters
And wages war against the bulk of life,

He is stalking my eyes to chew them,
And will only let my hair alone,
¡ İn the inorganic coldness of the earth!

☙The Vermin-God❧

Universal factor of transformism.
Son of the teleologic matter,
Na superabundance or in the poverty,
Vermin – That’s your unknown baptism name.

Never performs the extreme unction
İn your dairy funeral work,
And lives cohabiting with the bacteria,
Free from the facade of the anthropomorphism.

Feasts with the rotten pulp of the sour drupes in the lunch,
Feasts with dropsical in the dinner, chews thin guts
And swells the hand of the new corpses...

¡ Ah! The rotten meats stays with him,
And in the inventory of the abundant matter
¡ Their children receive the biggest part!

☙The Bog❧

¡ You can see it, without pain, my fellows!...
But, to me, and İ listen to the Nature,
This Bog is the ultimate grave,
¡ Of all of the pretensions of greatness!

Unknown larvae of the giants
Over its surface of venom and mourning
That sleeps calmly the deep sleep
¡ Of the superorganisms that are yet infants!

İn its stagnation stirs a race,
That tragically is awaiting those who are passing
To wide open the door...

İ fell the anguish of this stirring race
Doomed to wait forever
¡ İn the crushed universe of the dead water!

☙HOMO İNFİMUS (Negligible man)❧

Man, unremarkable flesh, blind creature,
Unfortunate geographic reality,
The silent Universe repudiates you
¡ And your own mouth curses you!

The noumenon and the phenomenon, the alpha and the omega
Embitter you. Hostile hebdomads
Pass... Your heart becomes disaggregated,
¡ They make your eyes bleed, and, however, you laugh!

Unjustifiable fruit among the fruits,
Bunch of dark clay mixed with dung,
Unique earthly excrescence.

Let your happiness to the brutish beings,
Because, on the planet’s surface,
¡ You only have one right: – the right to weep!

☙The Thoughts of Destiny❧

Recife, Buarque de Macedo Bridge.
(Bridge in Recife – Capital of the province of Pernambuco – Brazil)
İ, while going to the Agra House,
(Probably a reference to a Funeral/Mortuary parlor/agency of the same name, also in Recife)
Haunted by my thin shadow,
¡ Was thinking about the destiny, and İ felt fear!

İn the austere high celestial dome the high phosphor
Of the stars were shining... The paving
Of Stony, of rigid asphalt, dark e glassy,
Mimicked the polishedness of a white skull.

İ remember well. İt was a long bridge,
And my long shadow covered the bridge,
Like a rhino skin
¡ Stretched for all of my life!

The night hatched the eggs of the animal
Addictions. From the coal of great darkness
Comes a damned air filled with disease
¡ On the general surface of the buildings!

Like a hungry horde of ferocious hounds,
Crossing a desert station,
Howling inside the self, with the mouth opened,
¡ The scared hound of the instincts!

İt’s like if, in the heart of the city,
Deeply luxurious and revolted,
Showing its flesh, a free beast
Released the shouted of the animality.

And going deeper in the dark thought,
İ saw, then, under the light of golden reflections,
The generating function of the sexes,
Making in the nights the men of the Future.

Free from microscopes and  scalpels,
They danced, parodying cynical soirees,
Billions of apollonic centrosomes
İn the promiscuous chamber of the vitellus.

But, obfuscating my eyeballs,
Preaching about and disseminating the disgusting color,
Thin fetuses, still in placenta,
¡ Gave me their rudimentary hands!

Showed me the unknowable apriorism
Of this egalitarian fatality,
That created the family that originated me
¡ From the den of that horrible factory!

The strongest atmospheric current
Buzzed. And, in the igneous crust of the Cross,
(Probably the Southern Cross)
İ thought to see the funeral candle holder
That will shine light me in the moment of the death.

No one understood my sob,
¡ Not even God!
The strong wing sent arrow-like blows
to the holes of my clothes,
And doses of the winter Russian ice.

The revenge of the astronomical worlds
Sent to the Earth an extraordinary knife,
Bound firmly by shellac
Over my anatomical elements.

¡ Ah! Certainly God chastised me!
For all around, like a defendant that confessed,
There was a judge that read my case
¡ And a special force that awaited me!

But the wind stopped to blow for some instants
Or, at least, the ignis sapiens of the Orcus
Was a pig and suppressed the air of my bent chest
İn a nucleus of substances that raise the embers.

İt’s possible that one day İ will become blind.
İn the heat of this lethal torrid zone,
The color of the blood is the color that impresses me
¡ And the one that most persecute me in this world!

That chromatic obsession makes me gaunt.
İ don’t know Why İ always remember
The stabbed chest of a child
And a piece of red guts.

İ would like any temporary thought
That entered in the cave that is my brain,
And until the very end, cut
The ill-lucked traits of my memory.

İn the barometric ascension of the calmness,
İ knew well, nauseous and counterfeit,
That a population of ill lungs
¡ Coughed without solution in my soul!

And the spit of that temporary cough
Like an acid waste,
İt wasn’t the spit of a single individual
Weakened by the precocious phthisis.

¡ No! Certainly it wasn’t my spit
İt was the rough and putrid expectoration
From the lung bronchi of a race
¡ That violated the laws of the Nature!

İt was a strange, ubiquitous cough,
Like the sound of a round pebble
Thrown in the apex of the bang,
¡ Like the slingers from the mountain!

And the salivation of that unfortunate ones
Swells, in my mouth, in such a manner,
That İ, to avoid to spit for all around,
¡ İ began to swallow, a bit from each time, the hemoptysis!

İn the high hallucination of my thoughts
The liquid microcosmos from the drop
Had the abundance of a wrinkled artery,
Destroyed by the aneurysms.

¡ The highest point of the bitterness came to me!
Two, three, four, five, six and seven
Times that İ stabbed myself with the switchblade,
¡ The hemoglobin came full of water!

Spit, whose flows irrigate my lips,
Under the form of small camândulas,
(Camândula is a kind of rosary with large beads)
Blessed be all of these glands,
¡ That, daily, release it!

Spit from an abyss to other abyss,
Releasing to the sky the smoke from a cigarette,
There’s more philosophy in this spit
¡ Than in all of the moral of the Christianity!

Because, if in the egg-shaped orb in that İ put my feet
İ didn’t let my evil spit,
İ would never express my extreme disgust
¡ That İ feel by the scoundrels of the world!

Ⅱ

İt was in the horror of this dreary night
That İ discovered, perhaps bigger than Vinci
(Maybe a reference to Leonardo da Vinci)
With the visual strength of the lynx,
¡ The lack of unity in the matter!

The clumsy skeleton,
Free from the sour foulness of the dead flesh,
Spinning, with the white curved shinbones,
¡ İn a dance of several shows!

All the evil Gods,
Shiva and Ahriman, duendes, Yin and trasgos,
(see the “Duende” entry. “Trasgo” is a spanish term for small monstrous beings, also called boggarts, imps, kobolds, etc.)
Mimicking the sound of people chocking,
Hit the entrance of the churches.

İn this moment of sublime monologues,
The party of the night thieves,
İn a search for a tavern to be down in the dumps,
Walk in the shadows thinking about crimes.

They committed the darkest acts,
And the moonlight, with the color of a jaundiced person,
İlluminated, like if it were laughing, shamelessly,
The red shirt of the incests.

Certainly no one was there to watch me,
But my lamp, close to my face, made me remember,
A suggestive eye, that was put there
On purpose, to hypnotize me!

So, after all, my eyes distinguished
From the unique miniature of a quotation mark,
The tiny anatomy of the dandruff,
¡ Embryos of worlds that never developed!

Because who don’t see there, in any street
With the fine clearness of a clear jet,
İn the Buddhist patience of a dog
¿¡ The embryonic soul that doesn’t carry on?!

¡ To be a dog!¡ Bark incomprehensible
Verbs! He wants to say us that he’s not pretending anything,
And the word wrap itself in the larynx,
¡ Only the bark are released!

Taking off the clothes of the rotting cumbersome form,
İn the dark dissolution that inverts everything,
Lets fall over the motionless belly
¡ The scavenger hunger of the fly!

¡ The animal souls! İ take it, İ distinguish it,
İ find a secret duel inside it
Between the desire for a complete vocabulary
¡ And the expression that didn’t came to the tongue!

İ spot it in quadrillions of living bodies,
İn the antiperistaltic shocks
That produces in the bulls and the horses
¡ The contraction of the instinctive shouts!

İt would come a time in that, from that dreary
Chaos of organic misshapen bodies
Would emerge huge brains,
¡ Feverish water bubbles, boiling!

İn this age when the sages don’t teach,
The hard stone, the clayish mounts
Would create sheaves of nervous chords
¡ And the neuroplasm of the ones who think!

¡ Pygmy souls! God subdues them, confine them
¡ To the imperfection! But here comes the Time, and defeats him,
And my dream grew in silence,
¡ Greater than the Carolingian epopee!

İt was the tragic revolt
Of the most elementary ontogenic specimens,
From the Foraminifera from the seas
to the lilliputian cattle of the polyps.

All the characters of the tragedy,
Tired of living in a peace that is good enough for a Buddha,
Looked like they asked with their speechless mouths
The ganglionary intermediary cell.

The plant that is burned by the igneous dogday,
And the more negligible inorganic things
Notorious encephalons, spinal chords
¡ İn the brave happiness of the avenging!

The protists and the obscure rigid collection
Of the poriferans and the infusorians
Received from their sensory organs
¡ The emotional triumph of joy!

And, although it’s so late,
That parasite mankind,
Like a lesser animal, afflicted, shouted,
¡ İn my coward personality!

But, wondering, alone, about my case
İ saw that, like an underground amniote
İt was through my skull
¡ The fateful intersection of the delay!

The genial idea of microzyme
That strangled my valiant thinking,
And İ bent all of my body like a frog
¡ That have a bothersome weight in the upper side!

İn the agonies of the delirium-tremens,
The drunken simpletons that stared at me,
Sterilized with the full mugs
¡ The prolific substance from the semens!

They shove their hands in the inner side of their throats,
And shaking intensely
Expeled, in the strong pain of the vomit,
Several yellow goos.

They gone to the lupanars to sleep
(“lupanar” is a brothel of Pompeii)
Where, in the glory of the concupiscence,
Deposited almost without conscience
Their last muscular forces.

That way the blastoderms were produced,
Where inside its repugnant receptacle
My examination saw the show
Of an idiotic offspring of simpleton.

Prostitution or any other name,
Because of you, although the Man accepts you,
The bad women will lack the milk
¡ And the fatherless boys starve!

¿ Why so many burials have to happen here?
Also, there in the "sugar cane mill", it’s a damned death...
There is the evil carbuncle that kills
¡ The infant society of the calves!

¡ So many girls doomed to the grave!
And after the rottenness of so many girls,
The pigs playing in the puddles
¡ Of the virginity confined in the mud!

Death, the very end of the last scene,
Diffuse form of the peaceful matter,
My philosophy abhors you,
¡ My great thoughts condemns you!

Before you, in the richest cathedrals,
They spin in vain their amulets,
¡Oh! Lady that is the owner of our skeletons
¡And of the skulls that you daily produces!

İ had a rare desire to have,
When İ was thinking in the ones that İ lost,
The unconsciousness of the waxen masks
¡ That we attach, with a string, in the face!

İt was a forbidden dream of submerge myself
İn the universal life, and, being completely submerged,
Make the Abstract part of the universe,
¡ My balanced and firm lair!

So, worse than the remorse of the murderer,
Echoed, that way, from the bottom of a cave,
İn an impressive internal voice,
The unique echo of my Fate:

Ⅲ

"¡ Man! Much as the İdeia disintegrates itself,
İn that persecutions that doesn’t stop,
Never, gaunt man, you will know the cause
¡ Of all of the happy phenomena!

İn vain, with the rough arduous hoe, you open
The sterile earth, and you bring the
hollow clear lamp, to examine (¡ Oh! ¡ Mad science!)
The content from the heinous tears.

Dark and endless is the place where you dive
Place in the Cosmos, where the pain that doesn’t stop
İs produced like the kerosene
¡ İn the humid holes from the coal!

Because, in order to examine the Pain,
İt was necessary that, not the way you are, in short,
Rather it would be better, to reflect in your fellows,
The mankind in suffering itself!

The universal complexity is what İt
Encompasses. And if, sometimes, it splits itself,
Even so, its wholeness is not represented
¡ İn the isolated quotient of the part!

¡Ah! The Pain doesn’t stop, like the immortal air!
From the nervous papillae that are in the touch senses
Comes and goes since the most ancient times
¡ To other ages that will still come!

Like the wound of insomnia
Destroys you, when you give all of your Fiery İdea
The laborious study on the nymphaea
¡ And on the other dicotyledons plants!

The very clear water and the dreary ember
That splashes from the stripped rough flame
The molecular composition of the myrrh,
The symbolic lamb from the Easter;

The revolted choleras that roar
İnside the civilized man, and are bound to him
Like the bracelets sold by the traveling merchants
The persistent adherence of the rust;

The ferocious orb that is produced
By thick sour gorses; the rebellion that lets the men
(“gorse” is a plant from the Ulex europaeus species)
Fallen in the ground, without a shroud,
İn the concrete bloodbath from the massacres;

And the whips that are very bloodthirsty
For the hemorrhage; The thickest nodes,
The ignoble flattening of the heads,
That degrades the Hottentots peoples;

The Love and the Hunger, the avenging beast that enters
İn the lair, waiting for the victim to do it too,
- Everything that is conceived inside the maternal womb
The physiological cause of the disgust;

The eyelids that become swollen by the nightwatch,
The young birds who lost their wing,
The oven that is not being used in a house,
Where the household head died;

The private train that drags a corpse
İn a dreary manner by the railroad,
The crystallization of the earthly mass,
The fabric wears out;

The arbitrary water that carries and eats
The fissured thick stems; The dark ugly forms
Of the arachnids and the centipedes,
The Will O’ Wisp that illuminate the bones;

The Flammivomous projections that obfuscate,
Like a Rembrandtesque brushstroke,
The sensation that a fresh curd
Transmits to the nervous hands of those who seeks it;

The antagonism between Typhon and Osiris,
The oppressed great man and the little man
The fake Moon of the Moondog,
The meteoric deception of the rainbow;

The earthquakes that, shaking the ground,
Remember gunpowder storage exploding,
The rotation of the fluids producing
The geologic depression of the poles;

The reproduction instinct, the legitimate urge
From the soul, facing triumphantly high risks,
The oath of the elder warriors
Putting the hands in the glands of the victim;

The fluctuations that the human psychoplasm
Suffers from the mystic mania,
The heavy characteristic oppression
From the ten minutes of an asthma attack;

And, (albeit you will mutter against this)
The funeral function of the rope
That drags and later fatten the cattle,
To the wretched death in the slaughterhouses...

Everything that is kept in the earthly abyss,
Encompasses the complication of this sound,
Fought between the human the human pride in dragon form,
¡ And the inorganic forces from the earth!

¡ For discovering all of this, you become tired in vain!
The germ of this active force is unknown,
That conceives, in each passive cell,
¡ The heterogeneity of the change!

Poet, evil fetus, raised drinking
A sour milk, disgusting carnivore,
Conceived in the monstrous atavism
İn the disordered soul of the dead ones;

The last of the lesser creatures
Controlled by selfish atoms,
Your foot kills the abundance the paths
¡ And sterilize the wombs that give birth!


The rough evil that you brings to everything around you,
İt’s analogous to the thing that, dark and in its due time,
Brings the avid nocturnal phyllostomidae,
¡ To the blood of the voracious mammals!


¡ Ah! Much as you work, with all the strength of your spirit
To the perfection of the existing beings,
You will show your dental caries
¡ İn the dreary anatomy of the details!

The Space – this Spencerian abstraction
That encompasses the relations of coexistence
And That’s all! İt’s not dependent
Of the mortal spinal cords of the human species!

The radiant ellipses traced by the stars,
And the fake ones present themselves to the viewer
They’re luminous truths watched by the man
Who, however, aren’t able to understand them.

İn vain, with the corrupted hand, asks for other Æther
That this hand, that have skeleton-like phalanges,
İnside this water that you see,
¡ Also verifies the Archimedes principle!

The ferocious fatigue that is in you
Will left this dreadful mark on you,
That, in the bodies swollen because of the anasarca,
¡ Left the fingers of anyone!

And also you will not have after all of your work
The merciful friendly towel,
That touch the ill man in the belly
¡ And touches, at night, the pustules from the pest!

When the calm moment comes,
You will be dragged, in a row,
Like an unconscious wooden log
¡ İn the organic evolution of the clay!

A single day compared to a millennia
That will be, then, your last Gospel...
İt’s the evolution from the new to the old
¡ And from the homogeneous to the heterogeneous!

¡ Goodbye! Stay there, rotting
With your large belly!... ¡ You are dust, and in vain is vibrating!
The raven that eats your carrion
Will a feel bitter taste!”

Ⅳ

The voice become silent. İt was a dreary night.
And the chins, showing damned trismus,
İ pulled my uncombed hair
¡ Like king Lear, amidst the forest!

Cursed, with vehement apostrophes,
İn the stentor of a thousand insurgent tongues,
The conventionalism of the Pandects
(Probably a reference to a compiled codice of roman Laws)
¡ And the text of the recent bad codices!

My tormented imagination
Conceived absurd ideas... Like a couple of demons,
Make me look in the eyes of the corpses
That have a greenish sclera.

The chlorophyll of the farms dried.
Like the sharps of a dirge
The complaint from the pain of the crowds
Came to my vocal chords.

The upside-down world resigned itself
İn the bulk of his own work...
The gravity was concept that failed,
¡ The spectral analysis lied!

The Estate, the Association, the Cities
Were dead. From de whole world
Only remained a dying device
And a teleology without standards.

İ wanted to run, go to Hell,
So that, in the psyche in the occult game,
All the impressions from the outer world
¡ Died by the inhalation of the fire’s smoke!

But the Earth denied me the balance...
İn the Nature, a woman in black
Sang, watching the trees without fruit.
¡ Song of the whore of the deception!

İsmália (YS-MAH*-LYAH)

 [Translated by / Traduzido Por]: Felipe Lohan Pinheiro da Silva

By Alphonsus de Guimaraens

Translator’s note: Being İsmalia a proper female name.

***

When İsmália lose her mind,
Went to the tower to dream...
Saw the Moon in the sky,
Saw the Moon reflection in the sea.

She was lost inside her own dreams,
Bathed herself w/ the moonlight...
Wanted to fly in the skies,
Wanted to dive in the sea...

And, in an episode of madness,
She began to sing in the tower...
She was close to the sky,
She was far away from the sea...

And like an angel she opened,
The wings to fly...
Wanted to reach the Moon in the sky,
Wanted to reach the Moon reflection in the sea.

The wings that God gave to her,
Began to flap...
Her soul flew to the heavens,
Her corpse drowned in the sea...

Lenore (A Pæan) & The Raven / Lenore (Uma Peã) & O Corvo

 By / Por – Edgar Allan Poe

Link: https://www.eapoe.org/index.htm

***

Notas do Tradutor / Notes of the Translator:

1 – Apesar de que no Português do Brasil usa-se o termo “corvo” pra traduzir tanto as aves conhecidas no inglês como “Ravens” e “Crows”, existem diferenças entre eles:

*Ravens são maiores que crows.

*Crows têm bicos retos e mais curtos; ravens têm bicos mais longos, cobertos com “pelos” (na verdade eles são um tipo de pena) na base e curvados na ponta.

*Ravens têm penas pretas brilhosas de um tom quase azul/roxo; Crows têm penas pretas que não são brilhosas e têm um tom quase verde.

*Crows têm uma cauda que é redonda na extremidade; Ravens têm uma cauda que é triangular na extremidade.

*Ravens têm asas mais longas com um contorno geral pontiagudo; Crow têm asas mais curtas com um contorno geral redondo.

*Ravens gostam de fazer um movimento conhecido no inglês como “soar” (ganhar altitude ao ficar sobre correntes de ar) e fazer acrobacias durante o vôo; Crow batem suas asas mais freqüentemente enquanto voam.

*Ravens gostam de viver em bosques/florestas e viajar apenas em pares; Crows gostam de viver em áreas urbanas e viajar em grupos maiores.

*Ravens vivem por cerca de 30 anos; crows vivem por cerca de 08 anos.

*Crows cantam com um som rítmico conhecido em inglês como “caw”; Ravens cantam com um som mais profundo conhecido em inglês como “croak”.

→1 – İn the Brazilian Portuguese, the term “corvo” is used to translate “Ravens” and “Crows”. The difference between them:

*Ravens are larger than crows.

*Crows have shorter straight beaks; ravens have longer beaks, covered w/ “hair” (actually, they’re a kind of feathers) in the base and curved at the tip.

*Raven have shiny black feathers of an almost blue/purple shade; Crows have non-shiny black feathers of an almost green shade.

*Crows have a tail that’s round at the end; Ravens have a tail that’s triangular at the end.

*Ravens have longer wings w/ an overall pointed shape; Crow have shorter wings w/ an overall blunt shape.

*Ravens like to soar (gaining height on air currents) and make acrobatic moves while flying; Crow flap their wings more freqüently while flying.

*Ravens like to live in woods/forests and to travel only in pairs; Crows like to live in urban areas and to travel in larger groups.

*Ravens live for about 30 years; crows live for about 08 years.

*Crows sing a rhythmic “caw” sound; Ravens sing a deeper “croak” sound.

2 – Peã: Hino dedicado ao deus Apolo.

→2 – Pæan: Hymn dedicated to the god Apollo.

***

By ___ Quarles
(Por ___ Quarles)

 Once upon a midnight dreary, while İ pondered, weak and weary,
(Era uma vez numa meia-noite sombria, enquanto eu ponderava, vulnerável e abatido,)
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore –
[Translator’s Note: ¡ İt sounds so Lovecraftian!]
(Sobre um volume muito pitoresco e curioso de conhecimento esquecido –)
[Nota do Tradutor: ¡ İsso soa tão Lovecraftiano!]
While İ nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
(Enquanto eu pendia a cabeça, quase cochilando, de repente ouvi uma batida,)
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
(Como se fosse alguém gentilmente batendo, batendo na porta do meu quarto.)
“ ’Tis some visiter,” İ muttered, “tapping at my chamber door –
(Murmurei: “ Deve ser algum visitante, batendo na porta do meu quarto –)
Only this and nothing more.”
(Só isso e nada mais.”)
 
Ah, distinctly İ remember it was in the bleak December;
(Ah, lembro distintamente que foi no dezembro sombrio;)
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
(E cada brasa se extinguindo deixava sua marca sobre o piso.)
Eagerly İ wished the morrow; – Vainly İ had sought to borrow
(Eu desejava avidamente o amanhã; – Em vão eu buscava)
From my books surcease of sorrow – Sorrow for the lost Lenore –
(Pelos meus livros a cessação do sofrimento – Sofrimento pela minha Lenore perdida –)
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore –
(Pela dama rara e radiante a quem os anjos chamavam de Lenore –)
Nameless here for evermore.
(Que não será chamada nunca mais desde agora.)
 
***

¡ Ah, broken is the golden bowl! – ¡ The spirit flown forever!
(¡ Ah, a tigela de ouro está quebrada! – ¡ O espírito para sempre derramado!)
¡ Let the bell toll! – A saintly soul floats on the Stygian river: –
[Translator’s Note: İn the Greek mythology, the river of the Underworld.]
(¡ Deixe o sino tocar! – Uma alma santa flutua sobre o rio Estige: –)
[Nota do Tradutor: Na mitologia grega, o rio do Mundo dos Mortos.]
¿ And, Guy De Vere, hast thou no tear? – ¡ Weep now or never more!
(¿ E, Guy De Vere, você não deixou cair nenhuma lágrima? – ¡ Chore agora ou nunca mais!)
¡ See! ¡ On yon drear and rigid bier low lies thy love, Lenore!
(¡ Veja! ¡ No sombrio e rigido carro fúnebre está deitada a sua amada, Lenore!)
Come, let the burial rite be read – ¡ The funeral song be sung! –
(Venha, deixe o rito de enterro ser lido – ¡ A canção do funeral ser cantada! –)
An anthem for the queenliest dead that ever died so young –
(Um hino pra mais majestosa morta a morrer tão jovem –)
A dirge for her the doubly dead in that she died so young.
(Um canto fúnebre, pois ela está duplamente morta ao morrer tão jovem.)

“¡ Wretches! Ye loved her for her wealth and ye hated her for her pride;
(“¡ Desgraçados! Vocês as amavam pela riqueza dela e a odiavam pelo orgulho dela;)
And, when she fell in feeble health, ye blessed her – That she died: –
(E, quando sua saúde ficou frágil, vocês consideraram uma bênção – Que ela morreu: –)
¿ How shall the ritual then be read – The requiem how be sung
(¿ Como pode então o ritual ser lido – Como pode o réquiem ser cantado)
By you – By yours, the evil eye – By yours the slanderous tongue
(Por você – Pelo seu mau olhado – Pela sua língua difamadora)
That did to death the innocence that died and died so young?”
(Que causou a morte da inocente que morreu tão jovem?”)

Peccavimus: – ¡ Yet rave not thus! ¡ But let a Sabbath song
[Translator’s Note: “Peccavimus” is a Latin term that means “we have/are sinned/wronged/guilty”, in other words, an attestation of guilty.]
(Peccavimus: – ¡ Então não se enfureça ainda! ¡ Mas deixe que um canto Sabático)
[Nota do Tradutor: “Peccavimus” é um termo latino que significa “pecamos/cometemos um erro/somos culpados”, em outras palavras, um atestado de culpa.]
Go up to God so solemnly the dead may feel no wrong!
(Suba pra Deus tão solenemente que os mortos não se sintam injustiçados!)
The sweet Lenore hath gone before, with Hope that flew beside,
(A doce Lenore já se foi, com a Esperança que voou ao seu lado,)
Leaving thee wild for the dear child that should have been thy bride –
(Deixando você louco pela querida criança que deveria ter sido sua noiva –)
For her, the fair and debonair, that now so lowly lies,
(Por ela, alva e adorável, que agora jaz,)
The life upon her yellow hair, but not within her eyes –
(A vida sobre seu cabelo loiro, mas não em seus olhos –)
The life still there upon her hair, the death upon her eyes.
(A vida ainda lá sobre seu cabelo, a morte sobre seus olhos.)

“¡ Avaunt! – ¡ Avaunt! To friends above, from fiends below,
(“¡ Adiante! – ¡ Adiante! Desde os amigos que estão abaixo até os amigos que estão acima,)
The indignant ghost is riven –
(O fantasma indignado está despedaçado –)
From Hell unto a high estate within the utmost Heaven –
(Do İnferno a um elevado estado no mais alto Paraíso –)
From moan and groan to a golden throne beside the King of Heaven: –
(De gemidos e lamentos a um trono dourado ao lado do Rei do Paraíso: –)
¡ Let no bell toll, then, lest her soul, amid its hallowed mirth,
(¡ Então não deixe o sino tocar, pra evitar que sua alma, no meio desse júbilo consagrado,)
Should catch the note as it doth float up from the damnéd Earth!
(Se atrapalhe com o som ao flutuar pra sair da maldita Terra!)
And İ – To-night my heart is light: – ¡ No dirge will İ upraise,
(E eu – Hoje meu coração está leve: – ¡ Não entoarei nenhum canto fúnebre,)
But waft the angel on her flight with a Pæan of old days!”
(Mas entoarei pro anjo em seu vôo um peã dos velhos tempos!”)

***

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
(E o sedoso, triste e incerto roçar de cada cortina púrpura)
Thrilled me – Filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
(Me deixou alerta – Me encheu de terrores fantásticos que nunca senti antes;)
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, İ stood repeating
(Então naquela hora, pra apaziguar as batidas do meu coração, fiquei repetindo)
“ ’Tis some visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door –
(“É algum visitante na porta do meu quarto pedindo pra entrar –)
Some late visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door; –
(Algum visitante da hora tardia na porta do meu quarto pedindo pra entrar; –)
This it is and nothing more.”
(É isso e nada mais.”)

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
(Minha alma se fortaleceu; e não mais hesitava,)
“Sir,” said İ, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness İ implore;
(Eu disse: “Senhor, ou Madame, verdadeiramente imploro que me desculpe;)
But the fact is İ was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
(Mas o fato é que eu estava cochilando, e tão gentilmente você veio batendo,)
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
(E tão fracamente você veio batendo, batendo na porta do meu quarto,)
That İ scarce was sure İ heard you” – here İ opened wide the door; –
(Que dificilmente eu estava certo que ouvi você” – então escancarei a porta; –)
Darkness there and nothing more.
(Havia apenas a escuridão e nada mais.)

Deep into that darkness peering, long İ stood there wondering, fearing,
(Perscrutando profundamente a escuridão, por um longo tempo fiquei lá pensando, temendo,)
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
(Duvidando, sonhando sonhos que nenhum mortal sequer pensou em sonhar antes;)
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
(Mas o silêncio continuava, e não havia sinal de nada em meio a quietude,)
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “¿ Lenore?”
(E a única palavra aqui era a palavra sussurrada, “¿ Lenore?”)
This İ whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “¡ Lenore!” –
(İsso eu sussurrei, e um eco murmurou de volta a palavra, “¡ Lenore!” –)
Merely this and nothing more.
(Meramente isso e nada mais.) 

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
(De volta ao meu quarto, toda a minha alma queimando por dentro,)
Soon again İ heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
(Logo ouvi novamente uma batida um pouco mais alta que antes.)
“Surely,” said İ, “surely that is something at my window lattice;
(Eu disse: “Certamente, certamente é algo na treliça da minha janela;)
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore –
(Deixe-me ver, então, o que há lá, e este mistério explorar –)
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;–
(Deixe meu coração se apaziguar por um momento e este mistério explorar;–)
¡ ‘Tis the wind and nothing more!”
(¡ É o vento e nada mais!”)

Open here İ flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
(Girei a veneziana pra abri-la, quando, com muita agitação e meneio,)
İn there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;
(Lá pisou um majestoso Corvo dos dias sagrados de outrora;)
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
(Não fez nem a menor reverência; não ficava parado ou em um único lugar por nem um minuto;)
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door –
(Mas, com ares de lord ou lady, se empoleirou acima da porta do meu quarto –)
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door –
[Translator’s Note: Reference to Athena, Greek goddess of the wisdom.]
(Empoleirado sobre o busto de Pallas logo acima da porta do meu quarto –)
[Nota do Tradutor: Referência a Atena, deusa grega da sabedoria.]
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
(Empoleirado, e sentado, e nada mais.)
 
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
(Esse pássaro cor de ébano transformando minha fantasia triste em sorriso,)
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
(Pelo grave e austero decoro do semblante que tinha,)
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” İ said, “art sure no craven,
(Eu disse: “Embora as penas no alto de sua cabeça sejam curtas e abaixadas, você, com certeza, não é um covarde,)
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore –
(Corvo macabramente sombrio e antigo que vaga pela costa Noturna –)
¡ Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
[Translator’s Note: Pluto, or Hades, is the Greco-Roman god of the Underworld. İt can’t be the planet Pluto (¡ Pluto is a fucking planet!), since it was discovered in 1930.]
(¡ Diga-me qual o seu nome de lord na costa Noturna Plutoniana!”)
[Nota do Tradutor: Pluto, ou Hades, é o deus Greco-Romano do Mundo dos Mortos. Não pode ser o planeta Plutão (¡ Plutão é um planeta nessa porra!), já que ele foi descoberto em 1930.]
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
(O Corvo disse: “Nunca Mais.”)
 
Much İ marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
(Por mais que eu me maravilhasse com esse pássaro deselegante ao ouvir tão claramente seu discurso,)
Though its answer little meaning – Little relevancy bore;
(Sua resposta, entretanto, tinha pouco significado – Tinha pouca relevâcia;)
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
(Pois não podemos deixar de concordar que nenhum ser humano vivo)
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door –
(Foi ainda sequer agraciado de ver uma ave acima da porta do seu quarto –)
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
(Pássaro ou besta sobre o busto esculpido que está acima da porta do seu quarto,)
With such name as “Nevermore.”
(Com tal nome como “Nunca Mais.”)
 
But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
(Mas o corvo, se sentando solitário no busto plácido, apenas falou)
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
(Aquele termo, como se ele vertesse sua alma naquele termo.)
Nothing farther then he uttered – Not a feather then he fluttered –
(Ele não proferiu mais nada – Então não moveu nenhuma pena –)
Till İ scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before –
(Até que eu dificilmente fazia mais que murmurar “Outros amigos me deixaram antes –)
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.”
(Ao amanhecer ele me deixará, assim como minhas Esperanças me deixaram antes.”)
Then the bird said “Nevermore.”
(Então o pássaro disse “Nunca Mais.”)
 
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
(Deixado em alerta pelo silêncio quebrado por uma resposta tão prontamente dita,)
“Doubtless,” said İ, “what it utters is its only stock and store
(Eu disse: “Sem dúvida, o que ele profere é seu único chavão e vocabulário)
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
(Aprendido de algum infeliz dono a quem impiedosos Desastres)
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore –
(Se seguiram rapidamente e mais rápido ainda até que seu cantos carregavam um fardo –)
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
(Até que os cantos fúnebres de sua Esperança carregavam o fardo dessa melancolia)
Of ‘Never – Nevermore’.”
(De ‘Nunca – Nunca Mais’.”)

But the Raven still beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
(Mas o Corvo ainda estava transformando minha triste fantasia em sorriso,)
Straight İ wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
(Então girei uma cadeira almofadada pra ficar diante do pássaro, busto e porta;)
Then, upon the velvet sinking, İ betook myself to linking
(Então, sobre o veludo vermelho, entreguei-me a conectar)
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore –
(Devaneio a Devaneio, pensando o que esse pássaro ominoso de outrora –)
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
(O que esse macabramente sombrio, deselegante, macilento, e ominoso pássaro de outrora)
Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”
(Queria dizer ao gritar “Nunca Mais.”)

This İ sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
(Então sentei a pensar, mas sem nenhuma sílaba expressar)
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
(Ao pássaro cujos olhos flamejantes agora faziam queimar o do cerne do meu peito;)
This and more İ sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
(İsso e mais eu adivinhava enquanto estava sentado, com minha cabeça confortavelmente reclinada)
On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,
(No forro de veludo do acolchoado sobre o qual a luz do lampião se estendia,)
But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,
(Mas em tal forro de veludo violeta sobre o qual a luz do lampião se estendia,)
¡ She shall press, ah, nevermore!
(¡ Ah, ela nunca mais se reclinará!)

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
(Então, assim tive a impressão, o ar se tornou mais denso, perfumado por um incensário oculto)
Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
(Balançado por um serafim cujos passos produziam um som que ressoava no piso acarpetado.)
“Wretch,” İ cried, “thy God hath lent thee – By these angels he hath sent thee
(Gritei: “Desgraçado, seu Deus o enviou – Através desses anjos ele te enviou)
Respite – Respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore;
[Translator’s Note: Nepenthe is the mythological Greek medicine for treating sorrows.]
(Descanse – Descanse e tome o nepente, pelas suas lembranças de Lenore;)
[Nota do Tradutor: Nepente é o medicamento grego mitológico para tratar das tristezas.]
¡ Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
(¡ Oh, tome, tome este bom nepente e esqueça esta perdida Lenore!”)
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
(O Corvo disse: “Nunca Mais.”)

“¡ Prophet!” said İ, “¡ Thing of evil! – ¡ Prophet still, if bird or devil! –
(Eu disse: “¡ Profeta! ¡ Coisa do mal! – ¡ Ainda assim profeta, seja pássaro ou demônio! –)
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
(Seja se foi o Tentador que o enviou, ou se a tempestade o jogou aqui em terra firme,)
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted –
(Desolado e ainda assim completamente intrépido, nesta deserta terra encantada –)
On this home by Horror haunted – Tell me truly, İ implore –
(Neste lar assombrado pelo Horror – İmploro que diga-me sinceramente –)
¿ İs there – İs there balm in Gilead? – Tell me – ¡ Tell me, İ implore!”
[Translator’s Note: The Balm of Gilead is a balm w/ medicinal properties mentioned in the Old Testament of the Bible]
(¿ Há – Há bálsamo em Gileade? – Diga-me – ¡ İmploro que diga-me!”)
[Nota do Tradutor: O Bálsamo de Gileade é um bálsamo com propriedades medicinais mencionado no Velho/Antigo Testamento da Bíblia]
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
(O Corvo disse: “Nunca Mais.”)

“¡ Prophet!” Said İ, “¡ Thing of evil! – ¡ Prophet still, if bird or devil!
(Eu disse: “¡ Profeta! ¡ Coisa do mal! – ¡ Ainda assim profeta, seja pássaro ou demônio! –)
By that Heaven that bends above us – By that God we both adore –
(Pela abóboda Celeste acima de nós – Pelo Deus que ambos adoramos –)
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
[Translator’s Note: Probable reference to the Garden of Eden.]
(Dia a esta alma carregada de sofrimento se, num distante Aidenn,)
[Nota do Tradutor: Provável referência ao Jardim do Éden.]
İt shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore –
(Ela abraçará uma santa donzela a quem os anjos chamam Lenore –)
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
(Abraçará uma rara e radiante donzela a quem os anjos chamam Lenore.”)
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
(O Corvo disse: “Nunca Mais.”)

“¡ Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” İ shrieked, upstarting –
(“¡ Seja esse o termo o sinal da nossa despedida, pássaro ou demônio!” Gritei, pretensiosamente –)
“¡ Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
(“¡ Volte pra tempestade e pra costa Noturna Plutoniana!)
¡ Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
(¡ Não deixe nenhuma pluma preta pra trás como uma lembrança da mentira que sua alma contou!)
¡ Leave my loneliness unbroken! – ¡ Quit the bust above my door!
(¡ Deixe minha solidão intacta! – ¡ Saia de cima do busto sobre minha porta!)
¡ Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
(¡ Tire seu bico de dentro de meu coração, e tire sua forma de cima de minha porta!”)
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
(O Corvo disse: “Nunca Mais.”)

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
(E o Corvo, sem nunca se mexer, ainda está sentado, ainda está sentado)
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
(Sobre o pálido busto de Pallas logo acima da porta do meu quarto;)
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
(E seus olhos tinham toda a semelhança com os de um demônio que está sonhando,)
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
(E a luz do lampião que jorrava sobre ele jogava sua sombra sobre o piso;)
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
(E minha alma, pra longe da sombra que está projetada sobre o piso,)
Shall be lifted – ¡ Nevermore!
(Será levantada – ¡ Nunca Mais!)

Longing (Saudades)

 [Translated by / Traduzido Por]: Felipe Lohan Pinheiro da Silva

By Casimiro de Abreu

İn the Dead of the Night,
The meditation is so sweet,
When the stars shine,
Among the quiet waves of the sea;
When the Majestic Moon,
Appearing beautiful and well-shaped,
Like when a well-dressed lady,
¡ Looks at her own reflection in the water surface!

On these hours of silence,
Of sadness and love,
İ like to hear from far away,
While feeling a powerful grudge and sorrow,
The bell in the steeple,
That makes that sound in the solitude,
That death-impregnated sound,
That frighten us.

So – Exiled and alone -
My voice echoes from the hill,
The sighs from my homesick,
That’s in my heart,
These tears of bitterness,
Are tears of powerful sorrow:
- İ miss – my love affairs,
- ¡ İ miss – my homeland!

The Sweet Ballad Of The Gunslinger

 By Felipe Lohan Pinheiro da Silva

Sweet & handsome gunslinger,
How handsome U R,
¿ How many men died by Ur seven-gun?

[Author's note: Seven-gun - Gun that have a slot for seven bullets, a central one, surrounded by another six.]

When İ look to the Full Moon İ remember Ur face,
When İ look to the stars İ remember your eyes,
When İ sit before the ƒіreplace or the bonƒіre İ will remember Ur warm body,
When İ listen the sweet chords of the guitar ballad İ will remember Ur sweet voice,

İ’m in the log cabin in the woods,
waiting for U in the bathtub w/ hot water.

İ know that our love,
Will be the theme of folk ballads,
Because U R in my heart.