Paroles et traduction Dulce Pontes - Os Lobos E Ninguem

Os Lobos E Ninguem

Davi de Zacarino, violoncelo
Que compacta comigo a direção musical
E Amadeu Magalhães, multi-instrumentista
Na guitarra braguesa, viola acústica
Gaita de foles mirandesa
Adufe, flauta medieval
Cresceu nas pedras
Falou sozinho com a voz do relento
Soube do sabor da morte, da sorte e do vento
Cresceu calado
Dormiu sozinho na terra batida
Marchou descalço no pó dos caminhos da vida
Guardou os rebanhos
Dos lobos à chuva e ao frio
Suou tardes de terra
Dura na ponta do estio
Comeu do pão magro, da magra soldada
Largou a enxada, largou o noivado
Largou p'ra cidade mais perto
Para um pão mais certo
Malhou no ferro
Abriu trincheiras, estradas, sonhou
Andou no mato, perdeu a infância, matou
Marchou calado
Dormiu sozinho na terra batida
Caiu descalço no pó dos caminhos da vida
E os lobos lá longe
E as asas de abutres sem cara
E o medo na tarde
Na farda, no corpo, na arma
Soldado da morte
No mato no norte
Na sorte do vento
No fogo da terra
Nascido descalço
Crescido nas pedras
Dormido sozinho
No pó do caminho
A enxada, pão magro, relento, soldado
Na ponta do estio
E o medo na tarde
E os lobos lá longe
E as asas de abutres sem cara
A enxada, pão magro, relento, soldado
Na ponta do estio
E o medo na tarde
E os lobos lá longe
E as asas de abutres sem cara
Os lobos e ninguém, José Luís Tinoco

Wolves and No One

Davi de Zacarino, cello
Who agreed with me on the musical direction
And Amadeu Magalhães, multi-instrumentalist
On the Braguesa guitar, acoustic guitar
Mirandese bagpipes
Tambourine, medieval flute
Grew up on the rocks
Spoke alone with the voice of the cold
Learned the taste of death, of luck and of the wind
Grew up quiet
Slept alone on the beaten earth
Walked barefoot on the dusty paths of life
Guarded the herds
From wolves, rain and cold
Sweated afternoons in the soil
Hard at the peak of summer
Ate thin bread, of meagre wages
Left the hoe, left the engagement
Left for the nearest city
For a more certain bread
Laboured on iron
Dug trenches, roads, dreamed
Went into the forest, lost his childhood, killed
Walked quietly
Slept alone on the beaten earth
Fell barefoot on the dusty paths of life
And the wolves yonder
And the wings of vultures without faces
And fear in the afternoon
In the uniform, in the body, in the weapon
Soldier of death
In the forest to the north
In the luck of the wind
In the fire of the earth
Born barefoot
Grown on the stones
Slept alone
On the dust of the road
The hoe, thin bread, cold, soldier
At the peak of summer
And fear in the afternoon
And the wolves yonder
And the wings of vultures without faces
The hoe, thin bread, cold, soldier
At the peak of summer
And fear in the afternoon
And the wolves yonder
And the wings of vultures without faces
Wolves and no one, José Luís Tinoco