Some relaxation in crazy times… (2)

In my last post I took you on a trip to Jamaica with Jah9. Well, today my Youtube music journey will lead us to Brazil.

Unlike Jah9 and her music, I was already familiar with this song, and particularly this rendition. I used to listen to this song almost every day a couple of years ago, but then I somehow stopped. Untill I rediscovered it. It’s an ode to the Brazilian Candomble patron saint Nanã.

Source: Veja Compacto on Youtube, Mateus Aleluia e Thalma de Freitas – Cordeiro de Nanã | Compacto Petrobras

Now the following song, I  have to describe as soooo smoooth. The singing, the trombone…ugh.. I just can’t.. It’s so smooth! Liniker is amazing*!

Source: Liniker e os Caramelhos, Liniker – Zero, Youtube

And there’s also Bia Ferreira. I have already posted about what I miss in modern music. That’s why “Cota Não é Esmola” or roughly translated “Race quota/Affirmative Action is not a handout”. Just look at her being bolt and unappolegetically black in a room filled with what looks like a group of predominantly white college students, singing but primarily educating them about this topic. Love her! Love it!

Source: Sofar Latin America, Bia Ferreira – Cota Não é Esmola | Sofar Curitiba, Youtube

I don’t understand enough Portuguese to be able to translate the song fully myself. For now I’ve  added an English Google translation at the end of this post. I’m sure it’s full of errors, but I’ll try to update this post with the corrections of the translation. Also feel free to add your corrections.

Honorable mention to this Bia Ferreira and Caru Bonifácio performance.

Source: Sons & Musicas & Cover, Negra Tinta – Bia Ferreira e Caru Bonifácio, Youtuve

And I couldn’t do a post about Brazilian music without mentioning Luedji Luna. Before all of the current happenings, I would go out running with this song on constant replay.

Source: Luedji Luna, Banho de Folhas – Luedji Luna (Oficial), Youtube

Google translation of “Cota Não é Esmola”. It’s far from perfect, but you’ll get the gist.

There is a lot that was not told at school
Quota is not alms

Try to be born black in the favela, for you to see
What happens with black and poor does not appear on TV
Oppression, humiliation, prejudice
We know how it ends when it starts like that
Since I was a kid doing the runs to help the parents
Take care of children, clean the house, other things
Noon, take a shower, go to school on foot
There’s no money for the bus
Your mother used it earlier to run to buy bread
And since she’s tired she wants to ride on the bus
But as she is black and poor, the driver shouts: No!
And this is only the first door that closes
There’s no bus, you’re tired, but hurry
Arrives at school, another gate closes
You took too long, you will not enter history class
Wait, sit there, it’s been an hour
Wait a little longer and enter the second class
And see if you’re not late again, the director says
Arrives in the room, now sleep is beating
And she will not sleep, slowly learning that
If the ticket is three and eighty, and you have three in hand
She interrupts the teacher and says: So there will be no bread
And the friends who laugh at her every day
They laugh more and humiliate her more, what would you do?
She got tired of humiliation and doesn’t want school anymore
And at Christmas she cried, because she didn’t win a ball
Time passed and it grew
Now on the street she is the black one of the smelly suvaco
That straightens your hair to feel accepted
But it’s no use, everyone rejects it
Now she has grown up, she really wants to study
School ends, the booklet still has entrance exams
And dry, dry mouth, not a spit
Will pay for college, because black and poor do not go to USP
That’s what the teacher who taught at school said
That all are equal and that quota is alms
Tired of alms and without the dim of college
She still wakes up early and cleans three apartments in the city center
Experience being born black, poor in the community
You’ll see how different the opportunities are
And don’t even tell me this is victimism
Don’t blame me for covering up your racism
And don’t even tell me this is victimized
That this is victimized
That this is victimism
And don’t even tell me this is victimism
Don’t blame me for covering up your racism
And don’t even tell me this is victimized
That this is victimized
That this is victimism
They are enslaved nations
And murdered cultures
The voice that echoes in the drum
Come along, and come here
You can also fight
And learn to respect
Because the black people came to revolutionize
Don’t let our voice be silent!
Don’t let our voice be silent!
Don’t let our voice be silent!
Revolution
Don’t let our voice shut up!
Don’t let our voice shut up!
Don’t let our voice shut up!
Revolution
Thousands of ours are born every time one of us falls
Thousands of ours are born every time one of us falls
Thousands are born (Marielle Franco, present)
Of our
Thousands of ours are born every time one of us falls
And it’s open chest, ghetto swordsman, samurai nigga!
It’s open chest, ghetto swordsman, nigga
Open chest, ghetto swordsman, nigga
Open chest, ghetto swordsman, nigga
Open chest, ghetto swordsman, samurai nigga!
(Open chest, swordsman) It’s open chest, ghetto swordsman, nigga
(Open chest, swordsman) It’s open chest, ghetto swordsman, nigga
It’s open chest, ghetto swordsman, nigga
It’s open chest, ghetto swordsman, samurai nigga!
Let’s go to the corner where the clock stops
And in the silence the heart races
Let’s reign like Zumbi and Dandara
Hey Dara, oh Dara
Let’s go to the corner where the clock stops
In the silence the heart races
Hey Dara, oh Dara
Experience being born black, poor in the community
You’ll see how different the opportunities are
And don’t even tell me this is victimism huh
Don’t blame me for covering up your racism
There is a lot that was not told at school
I said, quota is not alms
Quota is not alms
I said, quota is not alms
Quota is not alms
Quota is not alms
Quota is not alms
I said, quota is not alms
Quota is not alms
Quota is not alms
Quota is not alms
They are enslaved nations
And murdered cultures
It’s the voice that echoes from the drum
Come along, and come here
You can also fight
And learn to respect
Because the black people came to re-vo-lu-cio-nar

 

*Here I go again with “amazing”! I haven’t figured it out  yet!I really need to search for other words that encompass the same meaning as amazing, or at least learn how to describe the feeling that amazing people give me, because the word “amazing” rarely does amazing people justice.

 

Source Featured Image: https://www.yaam.de/events/bia-ferreira-feat-doralyce/

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s