Martinho da Vila: Voz Afro-Brasileira

Sob chuva_a escola de samba Morro da Casa Verde faz ensaio técnico para o Carnaval 2013 no Sambódromo do Anhembi_zona norte de São Paulo

Martinho de Vila (nasce 12 fevereiro 1938)

“Madrugada, Carnaval e chuva” (1970)

Carnaval, madrugada

Madrugada de carnaval

Cai a chuva no asfalto da avenida

E a escola, já começa a desfilar

Molha o surdo, molha o enredo, molha a vida

Do sambista cujo o sonho é triunfar

Cai o brilho do sapato do passista

Mas o samba tem é que continuar

Os destaques se desmancham na avenida

E o esforço já é sobrenatural

Mas a turma permanece reunida

Um apito incentiva o pessoal

E a escola já avança destemida

É o samba enfrentando o temporal

Madrugada,vai embora, vem o dia

E o sambista pensa em outro carnaval

E a todos novamente desafia

A vitória do seu samba é o ideal

Chama o surdo e o pandeiro pra folia

Alegria, alegria pessoal

Carnaval, carnaval, carnaval

Volta o surdo pra folia

Alegria pessoal.

Carnaval, carnaval, carnaval,

Volta o surdo pra folia,

Alegria pessoal.

 _____

“Brasil mulato” (1969)

Pretinha, procure um branco

Porque é hora de completa integração

Branquinha, namore um preto

Faça com ele a sua miscigenação

Neguinho, vá pra escola

Ame esta terra

Esqueça a guerra

E abrace o samba

Que será lindo o meu Brasil de amanhã

Mulato forte, pulso firme e mente sã

Quero ver madame na escola de samba sambando

Quero ver fraternidade

Todo mundo se ajudando

Não quero ninguém parado

Todo mundo trabalhando

Que ninguém vá a macumba fazer feitiçaria

Vá rezando minha gente a oração de todo dia

Mentalidade vai mudar de fato

O meu Brasil então será mulato.

_____



Nicomedes Santa Cruz: “Black Rhythms of Peru” / “Ritmos negros del Perú” – “Latin America” / “América Latina”

Nicomedes Santa Cruz
( Poeta y músico afro-peruano, 1925-1992)
“Ritmos negros del Perú” (1957)

 

 

Ritmos de la esclavitud

contra amarguras y penas.

Al compás de las cadenas

Ritmos negros del Perú.

*

De África llegó mi abuela

vestida con caracoles,

la trajeron lo´epañoles

en un barco carabela.

La marcaron con candela,

la carimba fue su cruz.

Y en América del Sur

al golpe de sus dolores

dieron los negros tambores

ritmos de la esclavitud

*

Por una moneda sola

la revendieron en Lima

y en la Hacienda “La Molina”

sirvió a la gente española.

Con otros negros de Angola

ganaron por sus faenas

zancudos para sus venas

para dormir duro suelo

y naíta´e consuelo

contra amarguras y penas…

*

En la plantación de caña

nació el triste socabón,

en el trapiche de ron

el negro cantó la zaña.

El machete y la guadaña

curtió sus manos morenas;

y los indios con sus quenas

y el negro con tamborete

cantaron su triste suerte

al compás de las cadenas.

*

Murieron los negros viejos

pero entre la caña seca

se escucha su zamacueca

y el panalivio muy lejos.

Y se escuchan los festejos

que cantó en su juventud.

De Cañete a Tombuctú,

de Chancay a Mozambique

llevan sus claros repiques

ritmos negros del Perú.

 

_____

 

Nicomedes Santa Cruz

(Black Peruvian poet and singer, 1925-1992)

 

Black Rhythms of Peru (1957)

 

 

Rhythms of slavery

Against bitterness and sorrows.

Keeping time to the beat of the chains

– Black rhythms of Peru.

*

From Africa arrived my grandmother

Adorned with conch-shells,

They brought her, those Spaniards,

In a three-masted ship.

Marked by wax and fire – the

“carimba” scar was the cross she bore.

And in South America

To each strike, in her suffering,

The Black drums gave

Rhythms to that slavery.

*

For one coin

They sold my grandmother again

In Lima

And at Hacienda La Molina

She served the Spanish people.

With other Blacks from Angola

She earned for her tasks

Mosquito bites on her veins

Sleeping upon hard ground,

And nuthin’ ain’t no consolation

Against bitterness and sorrows…

*

On the sugarcane plantation

Was born that sad “socabón” dance

In the rum-press at the mill,

The Black man sang of Zaña.

The “machete” and the scythe

Cut his dark hands;

And the Indians with their reed-flutes,

The Black man and his tambourine,

Sang of their sad luck

Keeping time to the beat of the chains.

*

They died, those old Black folks…

But within the dried fibres of the cut cane

One hears the Zamacueca dance

And the distant Panalivio.

One hears the festivities they

Sang of in their youth.

From Cañete to Timbuktu,

From Chancay to Mozambique

They carried the clear pitter-patter,

The tap-tap-tap of those

Black rhythms of Peru.

 

_____

Glossary:

Zaña: 16th-century Spanish-Colonial town in Peru – inhabited by

wealthy, pious Spanish families involved in sugar and cotton

plantations based upon African slavery and Native-Indian servitude.

Raided by English pirates in 1686 – many people were killed,

prosperous families abandoned the town, and slaves

became unexpectedly “free”… La Zaña is an Afro-Peruvian dance

originating in the town.

 *

Zamacueca, Panalivio: Afro-Peruvian dances of the 18th

and 19th centuries – the Zamacueca was a courtship dance and

the Panalivio’s lyrics often told of the trials of slavery.

*

Cañete, Chancay:  Peruvian Spanish-Colonial towns – prominent in

the 17th through the 19th centuries – surrounded by haciendas

and sugar/cotton plantations.  Large African-born and native-

born Black slave populations.

 

 

*     *     *

 

Nicomedes Santa Cruz:

“América Latina”(1963)    /   “Latin America”(1963)

 

 

Mi cuate                                    My pal

Mi socio                                 My mate

Mi hermano                       My brother

Aparcero                                 Sharecropper

Camarado                              Colleague

Compañero                        Comrade

Mi pata                                      My buddy

M´hijito                                  My boy

Paisano…                            Compatriot…

He aquí mis vecinos.                     Here I have my neighbours

He aquí mis hermanos.                 Here I have my brothers

*

Las mismas caras latinoamericanas      The same Latin-American faces

de cualquier punto de América Latina:   from every corner of Latin America:

Indoblanquinegros                      Indianwhiteblacks

Blanquinegrindios                         Whiteblackindians

y Negrindoblancos                         and Blackindianwhites

*

Rubias bembonas                         Blondes with thick lips

Indios barbudos                            Bearded Indians

y negros lacios                                and straight-haired Blacks

*

Todos se quejan:                           All of them complain

-¡Ah, si en mi país                          – Oh, if only in my country

no hubiese tanta política…!         there wasn’t so much “politics”…!

-¡Ah, si en mi país                           – Oh, if only in my country

no hubiera gente paleolítica…!              there weren’t such paleolithic people…!

-¡Ah, si en mi país                            – Oh, if only in my country

no hubiese militarismo,                  there was no militarism,

ni oligarquía                                        or oligarchy

ni chauvinismo                                  or chauvinism

ni burocracia                                      or bureaucracy

ni hipocresía                                       or hypocrisy

ni clerecía                                            or clergy

ni antropofagia…                                or anthropophagy…

-¡Ah, si en mi país…!                          – Oh, if only – in my country…!

*

Alguien pregunta de dónde soy                Someone asks where I’m from

(Yo no respondo lo siguiente):                  (I do not answer with the following):

Nací cerca de Cuzco                                     I was born close to Cuzco

admiro a Puebla                                            Puebla I admire

me inspira el ron de las Antillas                 I’m inspired by rum from The Antilles

canto con voz argentina                              I sing in an Argentinian voice

creo en Santa Rosa de Lima                        I believe in Saint Rose of Lima

y en los Orishas de Bahía.                             and in the Orishas of Bahia.

Yo no coloreé mi Continente                       I didn’t paint my Continent

ni pinté verde a Brasil                                    the green of Brazil

amarillo Perú                                                   the yellow of Peru

roja Bolivia                                                        Bolivia’s red

*

Yo no tracé líneas territoriales                         I drew no border-lines

separando al hermano del hermano.              separating brother from brother

*

Poso la frente sobre Río Grande                                I rest by the Rio Grande

me afirmo pétreo sobre el Cabo de Hornos           I stand firm at Cape Horn

hundo mi brazo izquierdo en el Pacífico              my left hand I dip down into the Pacific

y sumerjo mi diestra en el Atlántico.                   and into the Atlantic I submerge my right.

*

Por las costas de oriente y occidente                           By the coasts East and West

y doscientas millas entro                                                   and two-thousand miles inland

a cada Océano                                                                       from each Ocean

sumerjo mano y mano                                                       I immerse both hands

y así me aferro a nuestro Continente                            and in this way I hold our Continent

en un abrazo Latinoamericano.                                      in a Latin-American embrace.

 

 

*

Translation from the original Spanish into English:

“Black Rhythms of Peru”:   Alexander Best

“Latin America”:   Lidia García Garay

 


Claude McKay: “The Tropics in New York”

To One Coming North

 

At first you’ll joy to see the playful snow,

Like white moths trembling on the tropic air,

Or waters of the hills that softly flow

Gracefully falling down a shining stair.

And when the fields and streets are covered white

And the wind-worried void is chilly, raw,

Or underneath a spell of heat and light

The cheerless frozen spots begin to thaw,

Like me you’ll long for home, where birds’ glad song

Means flowering lanes and leas and spaces dry,

And tender thoughts and feelings fine and strong,

Beneath a vivid silver-flecked blue sky.

But oh! more than the changeless southern isles,

When Spring has shed upon the earth her charm,

You’ll love the Northland wreathed in golden smiles

By the miraculous sun turned glad and warm.

 

_____

 

The Tropics in New York

 

Bananas ripe and green, and ginger root,

Cocoa in pods and alligator pears,

And tangerines and mangoes and grape fruit,

Fit for the highest prize at parish fairs,

Set in the window, bringing memories

Of fruit-trees laden by low-singing rills,

And dewy dawns, and mystical blue skies

In benediction over nun-like hills.

My eyes grew dim, and I could no more gaze;

A wave of longing through my body swept,

And, hungry for the old, familiar ways,

I turned aside and bowed my head and wept.

 

_____

 

To Winter

 

Stay, season of calm love and soulful snows!

There is a subtle sweetness in the sun,

The ripples on the stream’s breast gaily run,

The wind more boisterously by me blows,

And each succeeding day now longer grows.

The birds a gladder music have begun,

The squirrel, full of mischief and of fun,

From maples’ topmost branch the brown twig throws.

I read these pregnant signs, know what they mean:

I know that thou art making ready to go.

Oh stay! I fled a land where fields are green

Always, and palms wave gently to and fro,

And winds are balmy, blue brooks ever sheen,

To ease my heart of its impassioned woe.

 

_____

Claude McKay (1889-1948) was born in Clarendon parish,

Jamaica.  His older brother tutored him – with a bookshelf

of “classics”.  In 1912 McKay published his first book of poetry,

“Songs of Jamaica”, written entirely in Jamaican Patois.

He travelled to the USA where he would become a seminal

influence on the Black cultural movement known as The Harlem

Renaissance of the 1920s.   Appalled by the blunt racism he

encountered in his adopted country he articulated Black hope

and rage.  He wrote also of the complex feelings of the Immigrant

experience – as evidenced by his three tender, passionate

“Winter” poems from 1922 – featured above.

_____


Louise Bennett-Coverley and Jamaican Patois: A Unique Truth

ZP_Louise Bennett's 1966 collection of Jamaican dialect poems_she is photographed as Miss Lou on the coverJamaican Patois Poems

by Louise Bennett-Coverley

.

“Dutty Tough”

.

Sun a shine but tings no bright;

Doah pot a bwile, bickle no nuff;

River flood but water scarce, yawl

Rain a fall but dutty tough.

Tings so bad dat nowadays when

Yuh ask smaddy how dem do

Dem fraid yuh tek it tell dem back,

So dem no answer yuh.

No care omuch we dah work fa

Hard-time still een we shut;

We dah fight, Hard-time a beat we,

Dem might raise we wages, but

One poun gawn awn pon we pay, an

We no feel no merriment

For ten poun gawn pon we food

An ten pound pon we rent!

Saltfish gawn up, mackerel gawn up.

Pork en beef gawn up,

An when rice and butter ready

Dem just go pon holiday!

Claht, boot, pin an needle gawn up’

Ice, bread, taxes, water-rate

Kersene ile, gasolene, gawn up;

An de poun devaluate.

De price of bread gawn up so high

Dat we haffi agree

Fi cut we yeye pon bred an all

Tun dumplin refugee

An all dem marga smaddy weh

Dah gwan like fat is sin

All dem-deh weh dah fas wid me

Ah lef dem to dumpling!

Sun a shine an pot a bwile, but

Things no bright, bickle no nuff

Rain a fall, river dah flood, but,

Water scarce and dutty tough.

.     .     .

“Colonization in Reverse” (1966)

.

Wat a joyful news, Miss Mattie,

I feel like me heart gwine burs

Jamaica people colonizin

Englan in Reverse

By de hundred, by de tousan

From country and from town,

By de ship-load, by de plane load

Jamaica is Englan boun.

Dem a pour out a Jamaica,

Everybody future plan

Is fe get a big-time job

An settle in de mother lan.

What an islan! What a people!

Man an woman, old an young

Jus a pack dem bag an baggage

An turn history upside dung!

Some people doan like travel,

But fe show dem loyalty

Dem all a open up cheap-fare-

To-England agency.

An week by week dem shippin off

Dem countryman like fire,

Fe immigrate an populate

De seat a de Empire.

Oonoo see how life is funny,

Oonoo see da turnabout?

Jamaica live fe box bread

Out a English people mout’.

For wen dem ketch a Englan,

An start play dem different role,

Some will settle down to work

An some will settle fe de dole.

Jane says de dole is not too bad

Because dey payin she

Two pounds a week fe seek a job

dat suit her dignity.

me say Jane will never fine work

At de rate how she dah look,

For all day she stay pon Aunt Fan couch

An read love-story book.

Wat a devilment a Englan!

Dem face war an brave de worse,

But me wonderin how dem gwine stan

Colonizin in reverse.

_____

Louise Bennett-Coverley (1919-2006) was

Jamaica’s much-loved poet of Patois – and she

used her people’s language with warmth, humour

and trenchant wit.

As a performer on stage, and through radio

and television, Louise Bennett-Coverley “carried on”

and “held forth” in Patois –  often in character as “Miss Lou” –

bringing the language’s uniqueness and truth

to the forefront.

*

Louise Bennett-Coverley’s poems “Dutty Tough”

and “Colonization in Reverse” are

© Louise Bennett-Coverley Estate and are

here reprinted by permission of her Executors.

These poems may not be duplicated

or reproduced without prior consent of the

Executors of her Estate.

.     .     .     .     .


Bob Marley: ¡Despierten y Vivan! / Wake Up and Live!

Bob Marley in the 1970s

“Wake up and Live!”

Wake up and live, y’all,

Wake up and live,

Wake up and live now,

Wake up and live!

*

Me say:  Life is one big road with lots of signs,

So when you riding through the ruts,

Don’t you complicate your mind.

Flee from hate, mischief and jealousy,

Don’t bury your thoughts

– put your vision to reality, yeah!

*

All together now:

Wake up and live, y’all,

Wake up and live,

Wake up and live now,

Wake up and live!

*

Rise, ye mighty people,

There’s work to be done.

So let’s do it, a little by little.

Rise from your sleepless slumber, yeah!

We’re more than sand on the seashore,

We’re more than numbers.

*

All together now:

Wake up and live, y’all,

Wake up and live,

Wake up and live now,

Wake up and live!

*

Woah, one-one cocoa full a basket,

When you use to live big today –

tomorrow you buried in a casket.

One-one cocoa full a basket, yeah,

When you use to live big today –

Tomorrow:  buried in a casket!

*

All together now:

Wake up and live, y’all,

Wake up and live,

Wake up and live now,

Wake up and live!

_____

¡Despierten y Vivan!

 

Despierten y vivan, todos ustedes,

Despierta y vive,

Despierta y vive ahora,

Despierta y vive!

*

Digo: La vida es un camino grande con un montón de signos,

Así que cuando montas a caballo a través de los surcos,

no te complicas la mente.

Huid de odio, maldad y los celos –

No entierres los pensamientos,

ponga su visión en realidad, ¡sí!

*

Despierten y vivan, todos ustedes,

Despierta y vive,

Despierta y vive ahora,

Despierta y vive!

*

Aumenten, ustedes-los-poderosos,

Hay trabajo por hacer,

Así que vamos a hacerlo, poco a poco.

Aumente del sueño sin dormir, sí, sí,

Somos mucho más que arena en la orilla del mar,

Somos mucho más que unos números.

*

Todos juntos ahora:

Despierten y vivan, todos ustedes,

Despierta y vive,

Despierta y vive ahora,

¡Despierta y vive!

*

¿No lo ves?  Una pila de cacao en una canasta,

Cuando estás viviendo “a lo grande” hoy día –

Mañana, ¡serás enterrado en un ataúd!

¿No lo ves?  Una pila de cacao en una canasta,

Cuando estás viviendo “a lo grande” hoy día –

Mañana, ¡serás enterrado en un ataúd!

*

Todos juntos ahora:

Despierten y vivan, todos ustedes,

Despierta y vive,

Despierta y vive ahora,

¡Despierta y vive!

_____

Letras de una canción de 1979 – del poeta-músico

jamaicano Robert Nesta Marley a.k.a. Bob Marley

(6 febrero, 1945 – mayo 1981)

Traducción del inglés al español:  Alexander Best

*

Song lyrics from 1979 by Jamaican poet and musician

Robert Nesta Marley a.k.a. Bob Marley

(February 6th, 1945 – May 1981)

Translation into Spanish:  Alexander Best

_____


Juliane Okot Bitek: “Dans Sept Jours” et “À Langston Hughes”

_____

 

“Dans Sept Jours”

 

 

Une main delicate

tient un eventail

Evoque des souvenirs de la performance d’un amoureux

*

Dis-moi

Dis-moi car je ne m’imagine pas

La chaleur qui se lève dans l’arrière de ma gorge

S’étendre dans ma poitrine

Tombe

Et se dépose

*

Je ne reviendrai pas vers toi

*

Une fleur se ferme

Se dessèche à cause de la froide étreinte

D’un vent sec et amer

*

Tout sera fini

Dans sept jours.

 

_____

 

“À Langston Hughes”

 

 

Si tu ne restes pas

Pour lire mon coeur,

Cela ne me dérange pas

*

J’ai déchiré ton livre de poésie

*

Tu as menti:

Comme je prenais le train à Harlem

Tu as déraillé.

 

_____

Le poète Juliane Okot Bitek est née à Kenya en 1966.

Elle a passé son enfance en Ouganda.

Et maintenant elle habite à Vancouver, Canada.

*

Traductions de l’anglais au français:

Lidia Garcia Garay,  Lan Truong


_____

 

“Seven Days”

 

 

A delicate hand

Holds a fan

Evokes memories of a lover’s performance

 

Tell me

Tell me that I do not imagine

The heat that rises at the back of my throat

Spreads through my chest

Falls

And settles

 

I am not returning to you

 

A flower folds up

Shrivels from the cold embrace

Of a dry and bitter wind

 

In seven days

It will be over.

 

_____

 

“To Langston Hughes”

 

 

That you will not stay

To read my heart

Doesn’t matter to me

 

I tore your book of poetry

 

You lied:

While I took the Harlem train uptown

You strayed.

 

_____

 

Poet Juliane Okot Bitek was born in Kenya in 1966

and spent her childhood in Uganda.

She now lives in Vancouver, Canada.

_____

 


Langston Hughes: “La Señora y su Señora” / “Madame et sa Madame” / “Madam and her Madam”

_____

Langston Hughes (February 1st, 1902 – 1967)

“Madam and Her Madam”     

 

 

I worked for a woman,

She wasn’t mean–

But she had a twelve-room

House to clean.

*

Had to get breakfast,

Dinner, and supper, too–

Then take care of her children

When I got through.

*

Wash, iron, and scrub,

Walk the dog around–

It was too much,

Nearly broke me down.

*

I said, Madam,

Can it be

You trying to make a

Pack-horse out of me?

*

She opened her mouth.

She cried, Oh, no!

You know, Alberta,

I love you so!

*

I said, Madam,

That may be true–

But I’ll be dogged

If I love you!

 

 _____

 

“La Señora y su Señora”

por Langston Hughes

 

 

Trabajé para una mujer

No era muy malvada—

Ella tenía una casa de doce cuartos

que yo tenía que limpiar.

*

Tenía que hacer desayuno,

Almuerzo y cena también—

Después atender a los niños,

Al terminar.

*

Lavar, planchar, y limpiar

Llevar a caminar al perro…

Era demasiado,

Casi me destroza.

*

Yo le dije, Señora,

¿Es posible que usted

Está tratando de convertirme

En un caballo de carga?

*

Ella habrió su boca

Y exclamó:

¡Oh, no!

Sabes Alberta,

¡Yo a tí te quiero mucho!

*

Yo le dije:  Señora,

Puede que eso sea verdad—

¡Pero que desgracia la mía

Si yo la quiero a usted!

 

 

*

Traducción del inglés al español:  Lidia García Garay

_____


“Madame et sa Madame”

par Langston Hughes

 

 

J’ai travaillé pour une femme,

Elle n’était pas méchante—

Elle avait une maison avec

douze chambres

Que je devais nettoyer.

Préparer le petit déjeuner,

Le déjeuner et le dîner aussi—

Je devais garder ses enfants

Après tout ca.

Faire la lessive et la repasser,

et nettoyer le plancher,

Promener son chien—

C’était trop!,

Le travail m’a fait presque craquer.

*

Je lui ai dit:  Madame,

Est-ce qu’il est possible

Que vous essayiez

De me transformer en cheval de trait?

*

Elle a ouvert sa bouche.

Et elle a dit:  Pas du tout!

Tu sais Alberta,

Je t’aime beaucoup!

*

Je lui ai dit:  Madame,

Cela peut être la vérité

Mais je serais foutue

si je vous aime!


*

Traduction de l’anglais au français:

Lidia García Garay,  Lan Truong

_____