António Gedeão’s Lágrima de preta
by Kiko Matsing
António Gedeão is the nom de plume of Rómulo Vasco da Gama de Carvalho, a poet and physical chemist, who also wrote on the history of science, and instruction manuals in physics, chemistry, and the natural sciences. He published his first book of poems in 1956 under the pseudonym António Gedeão. In 1964, to commemorate the 4th centenary of the birth of Galileo Galilei, he wrote Poema para Galileo. This poem, set to music and sung by Manuel Freire, became a hit, along with others such as Pedra Filosofal and Lágrima de preta.
I could not find an adequate English translation of Lágrima de preta, although there are some literal translations online. I thus attempted my own poetic translation below:
Lágrima de preta Encontrei uma preta que estava a chorar pedi-lhe uma lágrima para a analisar. Recolhi a lágrima com todo o cuidado num tubo de ensaio bem esterilizado. Olhai-a de um lado, do outro e de frente: tinha um ar de gota muito transparente. Mandei vir os ácidos, as bases e os sais, as drogas usadas em casos que tais. Ensaiei a frio, experimentei ao lume, de todas as vezes deu-me o que é costume: Nem sinais de negro, nem vestígios de ódio. Água (quase tudo) e cloreto de sódio. |
Tear of a Negro Woman I found a negro woman who was weeping, and begged her for a tear I could analyze. I collected the tear (taking utmost care) in a test tube that had been sterilized. I observed it from one side to the other, and in front: it seemed just a drop of very clear air. I extracted it with acids, with alkalines, and salts, and such substances as used in these cases. Probed with ice, and lit with fire, it gave the same result everytime: Neither blackness nor anything foul was found, almost only purely water and sodium chloride. |
I also found in YouTube two versions of Lágrima de preta set to music. I think the first is the one sung by Manuel Freire, although the second one may also be a cover in a faster tempo. In any case, both have the same melancholy feel as Portuguese fado music.
Eles não sabem, nem sonham,
que o sonho comanda a vida.
Que sempre que um homem sonha
o mundo pula e avança
como bola colorida
entre as mãos de uma criança.
Have a good day.
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They cannot know nor dream
How much dreams command life,
How, when a man dreams,
The world leaps and bounds,
Like a brightly colored ball
Between a child’s small hands.
Belo!
Obrigado, Ana.
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