Colors and Light (Waters of March #3)
Another stanza from the lyrics of “Waters of March”.
“. . . É um passo, é uma ponte, é um sapo, é uma rã
É um resto de mato, na luz da manhã
São as águas de março fechando o verão
É a promessa de vida no teu coração . . .”
There is no translation, per se, of this stanza. The entire song, in fact, has a unique English version, written by the composer (Antônio Carlos Jobim) in trying to retain its lyrical qualities and theme.
On the right I posted a modified “Google Translate” version, followed by one commonly sung. The lyrics vary from artist to artist.
a modified “Google Translate” literal translation:
It’s the rest of the forest, in the morning light
As the waters of March closing the summer
It’s the promise of life in your heart . . .” an English-language version often used:
“. . . It’s the wind blowing free, it’s the end of a slope
It’s a beam, it’s a void, it’s a hunch, it’s a hope
And the riverbank talks of the waters of March
It’s the end of all strain, it’s the joy in your heart.”
Having excused myself from the a self-assigned trek into deep waters and woods, I ended up there anyway. That can happen when you let your mind wander. Here’s what I found (and jotted down in a notebook):
. mixing widely-assorted colors of paint turns into something dark, even black
. mixing assorted colors of light turns into something white
. one cannot put the paint into a spinner—a centrifuge—to somehow separate the colors again
. one can do this with pure light, by directing it into a prism!
One can find shared “poetry” in seeming contradictions.
Like the ambient sound of a gentle trickling creek
that we feel but don’t quite consciously hear,
the waters of March flow, sometimes splashing an awakening
to a feeling or thought, especially with the theme of loss and gain—
to finding a way to see it or feel it with a sense of acceptance and wonder, even joy.
You may sense that feeling when you see and hear composer “Tom” Jobim and Elis Regina (considered the best-ever performer of the song) during this studio recording.
More or less (or nothing) tomorrow . . .
perhaps again . . .
until then . . .
Note: Viewing this page on a PC displays the lyrics (top of page) full-size (tiny on mobile devices). I apologize for any inconvenience.