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Portuguese to English: A Majestade do Xingu, The Majesty of the Xingu General field: Art/Literary Detailed field: Poetry & Literature
Source text - Portuguese Noel Nutels. Lembro como se fosse hoje o primeiro dia em que o vi, menino ainda. Foi no navio que nos trouxe para o Brasil, em 1921. Era um navio alemão, mas não tinha nome alemão, chamava-se Madeira, em homenagem à ilha portuguesa. Simbólica coincidência: de certa forma refazíamos a viagem dos navegadores portugueses, Cabral e os outros. Como eles, atravessaríamos o oceano, rumo ao Brasil; não numa precária caravela, mas também não num luxuoso transatlântico - longe disso. O senhor precisava ter visto o Madeira, doutor. A rigor, nem navio de passageiros era; tratava-se de um cargueiro adaptado para o transporte de emigrantes. No porão tinham instalados beliches, oitenta beliches triplos, quase nenhum espaço entre um e outro. Latrinas, quatro; pias, quatro, nem sempre com água. Era impossível ficar naquele porão, passávamos a noite lá, mas mal amanhecia subíamos para respirar um pouco de ar fresco. O senhor conhece aquele quadro do Lasar Segall, Navio de emigrantes? Aquele quadro que mostra pessoas amontoadas num convés, pessoas de olhar triste? Era exatamente aquilo. Nós estávamos emigrando, doutor. Melhor dito: estávamos fugindo. Fugindo da Rússia.
Translation - English Noel Nutels. I remember as if today was the first day I saw him, still a young boy. It was on the ship that brought us to Brazil, in 1921. It was a German ship, but didn’t have a German name, they called it Madeira, after the Portuguese island. It was a symbolic coincidence: in some sense we retraced the steps of the Portuguese navigators, Cabral and the like. Just like them, we crossed the ocean, headed for Brazil; not in some precarious sailboat, but neither in a luxury cruise liner – far from it. You had to see the Madeira, Doc. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t even a passenger ship; it was somewhat of a cargo ship adapted to carry emigrants. In the hull they had put in bunks, 80 triple bunks, barely any room in between them. There were 4 toilets and sinks, though not always with water. It was impossible to stay in that hull, we would spend the nights down there, but day barely broke and we would go back up to breathe a little fresh air. Are you familiar with that painting by Lasar Segall, Navio de emigrantes? That painting that shows people piled up on the deck, with sad looks on their faces? It was exactly that. We were emigrating, Doc. Better put: we were running away. Running away from Russia.
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Bachelor's degree - University of Iowa
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Years of experience: 13. Registered at ProZ.com: Jun 2011.
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