Текст и перевод песни Vinicius de Moraes - O Homem

O Homem

Era finalmente, e definitivamente, o Homem.
Viera para ficar. Tinha nos olhos
A força de um propósito: permanecer, vencer as solidões
E os horizontes, desbravar e criar, fundar
E erguer. Suas mãos
Já não traziam outras armas
Que as do trabalho em paz. Sim,
Era finalmente o Homem: o Fundador. Trazia no rosto
A antiga determinação dos bandeirantes,
Mas já não eram o ouro e os diamantes o objeto
De sua cobiça. Olhou tranqüilo o sol
Crepuscular, a iluminar em sua fuga para a noite
Os soturnos monstros e feras do poente.
Depois mirou as estrelas, a luzirem
Na imensa abóbada suspensa
Pelas invisíveis colunas da treva.
Sim, era o Homem...
Vinha de longe, através de muitas solidões,
Lenta, penosamente. Sofria ainda da penúria
Dos caminhos, da dolência dos desertos,
Do cansaço das matas enredadas
A se entredevorarem na luta subterrânea
De suas raízes gigantescas e no abraço uníssono
De seus ramos. Mas agora
Viera para ficar. Seus pés plantaram-se
Na terra vermelha do altiplano. Seu olhar
Descortinou as grandes extensões sem mágoa
No círculo infinito do horizonte. Seu peito
Encheu-se do ar puro do cerrado. Sim, ele plantaria
No deserto uma cidade muita branca e muito pura...

The Man

He was finally, and definitively, the Man.
He had come to stay. In his eyes was
The force of a purpose: to remain, to overcome loneliness
And the horizons, to clear and create, to found
And to raise. His hands
No longer came with other weapons
Than those of work in peace. Yes,
He was finally the Man: the Founder. He brought on his face
The former determination of the frontiersmen,
But it was no longer gold and diamonds that were the object
Of his greed. He looked calmly at the sun
Twilight, illuminating in its flight to the night
The gloomy monsters and wild beasts of the west.
Then he gazed at the stars, shining
In the immense arch suspended
By the invisible columns of darkness.
Yes, he was the Man...
He came from afar, through many solitudes,
Slowly, painfully. He still suffered from the penury
Of the roads, from the sorrow of the deserts,
From the fatigue of the entangled forests
To devour each other in the underground struggle
Of their gigantic roots and in the unanimous embrace
Of their branches. But now
He had come to stay. His feet were planted
In the red earth of the high plateau. His gaze
Overlooked the great expanses without sorrow
In the infinite circle of the horizon. His chest
Filled with the pure air of the forest. Yes, he would plant
A very white and very pure city in the desert...