Текст и перевод песни Caetano Veloso - Livros

Livros

Tropeçavas nos astros desastrada
Quase não tínhamos livros em casa
E a cidade não tinha livraria
Mas os livros que em nossa vida entraram
São como a radiação de um corpo negro
Apontando pra a expansão do Universo
Porque a frase, o conceito, o enredo, o verso
E, sem dúvida, sobretudo o verso
É o que pode lançar mundos no mundo
Tropeçavas nos astros desastrada
Sem saber que a ventura e a desventura
Dessa estrada que vai do nada ao nada
São livros e o luar contra a cultura
Os livros são objetos transcendentes
Mas podemos amá-los do amor táctil
Que votamos aos maços de cigarro
Domá-los, cultivá-los em aquários
Em estantes, gaiolas, em fogueiras
Ou lançá-los pra fora das janelas
Talvez isso nos livre de lançarmo-nos
Ou o que é muito pior por odiarmo-los
Podemos simplesmente escrever um
Encher de vãs palavras muitas páginas
E de mais confusão as prateleiras
Tropeçavas nos astros desastrada
Mas pra mim foste a estrela entre as estrelas
(Ici, dit-il avec des yeux brillants de joie)
(Les hommes ne sauraient me faire de mal)
(Il eut l'idée de se livrer au plaisir d'écrire ses pensées)
(Partout ailleurs si dangereux pour lui)
(Une pierre carrée lui servait de pupitre)
(Sa plume volait)
(Pourquoi ne passerais-je pas la nuit ici?)
(Se dit-il; j'ai du pain, et je suis libre!)
(Au son de ce grand mot son âme s'exalta)
(Mais une nuit profonde avait remplacé le jour)
(Et il y avait encore deux lieues à faire)
(Pour descendre au hameau habité par Fouqué)
(Avant de quitter la petite grotte)
(Julien alluma du feu et brûla avec soin tout ce qu'il avait écrit)
Os livros são objetos transcendentes
Mas podemos amá-los do amor táctil
Que votamos aos maços de cigarro
Domá-los, cultivá-los em aquários
Em estantes, gaiolas, em fogueiras
Ou lançá-los pra fora das janelas
Talvez isso nos livre de lançarmo-nos
Ou o que é muito pior por odiarmo-los
Podemos simplesmente escrever um
Encher de vãs palavras muitas páginas
E de mais confusão as prateleiras
Tropeçavas nos astros desastrada
Mas pra mim foste a estrela entre as estrelas

Books

You tripped over the stars, clumsy one
We hardly had any books at home
And the city had no bookstore
But the books that came into our lives
Are like the radiation from a black body
Pointing to the expansion of the Universe
Because the sentence, the concept, the plot, the verse
And, without doubt, above all, the verse
Is what can launch worlds into the world
You tripped over the stars, clumsy one
Not knowing that the fortune and misfortune
Of this road that goes from nothing to nothing
Are books and the moonlight against culture
Books are transcendent objects
But we can love them with the tactile love
That we feel for packs of cigarettes
Taming them, cultivating them in aquariums
On shelves, in cages, in fires
Or throwing them out the windows
Perhaps that will free us from throwing ourselves out
Or, what is much worse, from hating them
We can simply write one
Fill many pages with empty words
And more confusion to the shelves
You tripped over the stars, clumsy one
But for me you were the star among stars
(Here, he said with eyes sparkling with joy)
(Men could not do me any harm)
(He had the idea of indulging in the pleasure of writing his thoughts)
(Elsewhere so dangerous to him)
(A square stone served him as a writing desk)
(His pen flew)
(Why should I not spend the night here?)
(He said to himself; I have bread, and I am free!)
(At the sound of this great word his soul exalts)
(But a deep night had replaced the day)
(And there were still two leagues to go)
(To descend to the hamlet inhabited by Fouqué)
(Before leaving the small cave)
(Julien lit a fire and carefully burned everything he had written)
Books are transcendent objects
But we can love them with the tactile love
That we feel for packs of cigarettes
Taming them, cultivating them in aquariums
On shelves, in cages, in fires
Or throwing them out the windows
Perhaps that will free us from throwing ourselves out
Or, what is much worse, from hating them
We can simply write one
Fill many pages with empty words
And more confusion to the shelves
You tripped over the stars, clumsy one
But for me you were the star among stars