Anarquistas Coroados

from by Fernando Brandão

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about

The last of the four poems from Pedro Lago that I used features simpler harmonies and longer lyrics.

A picaresque tale of buddies cruising through Lapa (a neighborhood of Rio known for its effervescent nightlife), it had to be a samba.

lyrics

Anarquistas Coroados
music by Fernando Brandão
lyrics by Pedro Lago

E lá fomos nós.
Percorrer os arredores
do cinema Odeon.
Lá onde um velho
pedia água no botequim
e o batalhão silenciava
em segredos.
Lá onde a luxúria escorria
pelas mesas do hotel para
solteiros e a Lapa começava
a ferver em utopias.
Lá fomos nós.

Na gênese de pequenos universos
que se entreabriam nos detalhes.
Passo a passo pela madrugada,
que nos oferecia um gosto amargo
e era bom e crescia.

Lá onde as imperfeições
junto aos odores das calçadas
formavam uma ópera de espantos,
um drama da desgraça
e da beleza das vísceras.

Seguimos entre sons e rutilamentos,
pelas luzes das barracas
e os bares cheios.
Tropeçamos nos meios fios,
rindo dos problemas,
como quem se liberta
das masmorras.

E nos embebedamos como
dois bárbaros exaustos,
trincando copos,
traçando mentiras,
tecendo sonhos,
cuspindo fogo,
fora do veneno,
dentro do grito,
na coroação da
nossa anarquia.
 ---------------------------------------------

Crowned Anarchists
music by Fernando Brandão
lyrics by Pedro Lago

And there we went on.
Moving through the area around the Odeon movie theatre.
There, where an old man
asked for water in a bar
and the crowd went silent
with secrets.
There, where lust poured out
through the tables of the hotel for singles, and Lapa began
to seethe in utopias.
We kept on going.

Through the genesis of small universes
that opened up in details.
Step by step, through dawn
that offered us a bitter taste,
and it was good, and it grew.

There, where imperfections
near the odors of sidewalks
formed an opera of amazement,
a drama of disgrace
and the beauty of guts.

We moved on, between sounds and glitter,
through the lights of the stalls
and the crowded bars.
We stumbled on the curbs,
laughing at problems,
as if escaping the dungeons.

And we would get drunk like
two exhausted barbarians,
rubbing glasses,
plotting lies,
weaving dreams,
spitting fire,
outside the venom,
inside the scream,
in the coronation of
our anarchy.

credits

from Sem Tradução, released September 30, 2015
Fernando Brandão - voice and flute
Henrique Eisenmann - piano
Fernando Huergo - electric bass
Bertram Lehmann - drum set
Daniel Ian Smith - tenor and soprano sax
Bob Gallegos - trumpet
John Pierce - trombone

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about

Fernando Brandao Boston, Massachusetts

Flutist, composer, author and educator Fernando Brandão is from Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. He leads the Fernando Brandão Ensemble, which has recently been featured at the First Cambridge Jazz Festival and the Isabella Gardner Museum. Mr. Brandão is an Associate Professor at Berklee College of Music and a faculty member of the Community Music Center of Boston. ... more

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