Sun. Oct 24th, 2021
Os Lusíadas - Wikiquote

My personal story in its bare purity
Outdoes all boasting and hyperbole.

Os Lusíadas (The Lusiads) is a Portuguese epic poem by Luís de Camões. First printed in 1572, it’s considered Portugal’s nationwide epic, a lot in the identical method as Virgil‘s Aeneid was for the Ancient Romans, or Homer‘s Iliad and Odyssey for the Ancient Greeks.

Canto I[edit]

My track shall unfold wherever there are males,
If wit and artwork will a lot information my pen.

Cease all, whose actions historic bards expressed:
A brighter valour rises within the West.

Let us hear no extra then of Ulysses and Aeneas and their lengthy journeying, no extra of Alexander and Trajan and their well-known victories. My theme is the daring and renown of the Portuguese…
  • As armas e os Barões assinalados
    Que da Ocidental praia Lusitana
    Por mares nunca de antes navegados
    Passaram ainda além da Taprobana,
    Em perigos e guerras esforçados
    Mais do que prometia a força humana,
    E entre gente remota edificaram
    Novo Reino, que tanto sublimaram.
    • Arms and the heroes, who from Lisbon‘s shore,
      Through seas the place sail was by no means unfold earlier than,
      Beyond the place Ceylon lifts her spicy breast,
      And waves her woods above the watery waste,
      With prowess greater than human compelled their method
      To the truthful kingdoms of the rising day:
      What wars they waged, what seas, what risks previous,
      What superb empire topped their toils finally.
    • Stanza 1 (as translated by William Julius Mickle, 1776).
    • Variant translation by Landeg White (1997):
      • Arms are my theme, and people matchless heroes
        Who from Portugal’s far western shores
        By oceans the place none had ventured
        Voyaged to Taprobana and past,
        Enduring hazards and assaults
        Such as drew on greater than human prowess
        Among far distant peoples, to proclaim
        A New Age and win timeless fame.
  • Cantando espalharei por toda parte,
    Se a tanto me ajudar o engenho e arte.

A nobler hero’s deeds demand my lays
Than ever adorned the track of historic days;
Illustrious Gama, whom the waves obeyed,
And whose dread sword the destiny of empire swayed.
  • Cessem do sábio Grego e do Troiano
    As navegações grandes que fizeram;
    Cale-se de Alexandro e de Trajano
    A fama das vitórias que tiveram;
    Que eu canto o peito ilustre Lusitano,
    A quem Neptuno e Marte obedeceram.
    Cesse tudo o que a Musa antiga canta,
    Que outro valor mais alto se alevanta.
    • Let us hear no extra then of Ulysses and Aeneas and their lengthy journeying, no extra of Alexander and Trajan and their well-known victories. My theme is the daring and renown of the Portuguese, to whom Neptune and Mars alike give homage. The heroes and the poets of outdated have had their day; one other and loftier conception of valour has arisen.
    • Stanza 3 (as translated by William C. Atkinson, 1952).
    • William Julius Mickle’s translation:
      • Let Fame with surprise title the Greek no extra,
        What lands he noticed, what toils at sea he bore;
        No extra the Trojan‘s wandering voyage boast,
        What storms he braved on many a deadly coast:
        No extra let Rome exult in Trajan‘s title,
        Nor Eastern conquests Ammon’s satisfaction proclaim;
        A nobler hero‘s deeds demand my lays
        Than ever adorned the track of historic days;
        Illustrious Gama, whom the waves obeyed,
        And whose dread sword the destiny of empire swayed.
      • Compare Sir Richard Fanshawe’s translation, traces 15–16:

And you, truthful nymphs of Tagus… O come auspicious, and the track encourage…
  • E vós, Tágides minhas, pois criado
    Tendes em mi um novo engenho ardente,
    Se sempre em verso humilde celebrado
    Foi de mi vosso rio alegremente,
    Dai-me agora um som alto e sublimado,
    Um estilo grandíloco e corrente,
    Por que de vossas águas Febo ordene
    Que não tenham enveja às de Hipocrene.

    Dai-me uma fúria grande e sonorosa,
    E não de agreste avena ou frauta ruda,
    Mas de tuba canora e belicosa,
    Que o peito acende e a cor ao gesto muda;
    Dai-me igual canto aos feitos da famosa
    Gente vossa, que a Marte tanto ajuda;
    Que se espalhe e se cante no universo,
    Se tão chic preço cabe em verso.

    • And you, truthful nymphs of Tagus, guardian stream,
      If ever your meadows had been my pastoral theme,
      While you will have listened, and by moonshine seen
      My footsteps wander over your banks of inexperienced,
      O come auspicious, and the track encourage
      With all of the boldness of your hero‘s fireplace:
      Deep and majestic let the numbers circulation,
      And, rapt to heaven, with ardent fury glow;
      Unlike the verse that speaks the lover’s grief,
      When heaving sighs afford their delicate aid,
      And humble reeds bewail the shepherd’s ache:
      But just like the warlike trumpet be the pressure
      To rouse the hero’s ire; and much round,
      With equal rage, your warriors’ deeds resound.
    • Stanzas 4–5 (tr. William Julius Mickle).

They now went crusing within the ocean huge…
  • Já no largo Oceano navegavam,
    As inquietas ondas apartando;
    Os ventos brandamente respiravam,
    Das naus as velas côncavas inchando;
    Da branca escuma os mares se mostravam
    Cobertos, onde as proas vão cortando
    As marítimas águas consagradas,
    Que do gado de Proteu são cortadas.
    • They now went crusing within the Ocean huge,
      Parting the snarling Waves with crooked Bills:
      The whispering Zephyr breathed a mild Blast,
      Which stealingly the spreading Canvas fills:
      With a white foam the Seas had been overcast,
      The dancing Vessels chopping with their Keels
      The Waters of the Consecrated Deep,
      Where Protheu’s Flocks their Rendezvouses maintain.
    • Stanza 19 (tr. Sir Richard Fanshawe).
      • William Julius Mickle’s translation:
        Now, removed from land, over Neptune’s dread abode
        The Lusitanian fleet triumphant rode;
        Onward they traced the large and lonesome foremost,
        Where changeful Proteus leads his scaly prepare;
        The dancing vanes earlier than the zephyrs flowed,
        And their daring keels the trackless ocean plowed;
        Unplowed earlier than, the inexperienced-tinged billows rose,
        And curled and whitened around the nodding prows.
  • Do rosto respirava um ar divino,
    Que divino tornara um corpo humano;
    Com uma coroa e ceptro rutilante,
    De outra pedra mais clara que diamante.
    • The crown, of heaven’s personal pearls, whose ardent rays,
      Flamed spherical his brows, outshone the diamond’s blaze:
      His breath such gales of significant perfume shed,
      As may, with sudden life, encourage the lifeless.
    • Stanza 22, traces 5–8 (tr. William Julius Mickle); of Jove.
      • Sir Richard Fanshawe’s translation:
        An Oderiferous Ayre blew from his face,
        Able to breathe new life in a pale Ghost:
        A Scepter in his Hand, and his Head topped
        With one stone, brighter than a Diamond.

The moon, full orbed, forsakes her watery cave,
And lifts her beautiful head above the wave…
  • Da Lua os claros raios rutilavam
    Pelas argênteas ondas Neptuninas,
    As estrelas os Céus acompanhavam,
    Qual campo revestido de boninas;
    Os furiosos ventos repousavam
    Pelas covas escuras peregrinas.
    Porém da armada a gente vigiava,
    Como por longo tempo costumava.
    • The moon, full orbed, forsakes her watery cave,
      And lifts her beautiful head above the wave.

      The snowy splendours of her modest ray
      Stream over the glistening waves, and quivering play:
      Around her, glittering on the heaven’s arched forehead,
      Unnumbered stars, enclosed in azure, glow,
      Thick because the dew-drops of the April daybreak,
      Or May-flowers crowding over the daisy-garden:
      The canvas whitens within the silvery beam,
      And with a light pale pink the pendants gleam:
      The masts’ tall shadows tremble over the deep;
      The peaceable winds a holy silence maintain;
      The watchman’s carol, echoed from the prows,
      Alone, at instances, awakes the nonetheless repose.
    • Stanza 58 (as translated by William Julius Mickle).
    • Compare Homer, The Iliad, VIII. 551–555:
      • As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night time,
        Over heaven’s clear azure spreads her sacred mild,
        When not a breath disturbs the deep serene,
        And not a cloud overcasts the solemn scene;
        Around her throne the vivid planets roll,
        And stars unnumbered gild the glowing pole,
        Over the darkish timber a yellower verdure shed,
        And tip with silver each mountain’s head;
        Then shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise,
        A flood of glory bursts from all of the skies:
        The aware swains, rejoicing within the sight,
        Eye the blue vault, and bless the helpful mild.
  • É fraqueza entre ovelhas ser leão.
    • To be a Lyon amongst Sheep, ’tis poor.
    • Stanza 68, line 8 (tr. Sir Richard Fanshawe).

Ah! the place shall weary man take sanctuary,
the place reside his little span of life safe?
and escape of heaven serene the indignant storms
that launch their thunders at us earthen worms?
  • Ó grandes e gravíssimos perigos!
    Ó caminho de vida nunca certo!
  • Onde pode acolher-se um fraco humano,
    Onde terá segura a curta vida,
    Que não se arme, e se indigne o Céu sereno
    Contra um bicho da terra tão pequeno?

Canto II[edit]

What care, what knowledge, is of suffisance
The stroke of secret mischief to forestall,
Unless the sovereign guardian from on excessive
Supply the power of frail humanity?
  • Onde reina a malícia, está o receio
    Que a faz imaginar no peito alheio.
    • Where malice reigns, there Jalousie doth nest,
      Which doth suppose it in Another’s Brest.
    • Stanza 9, traces 7–8 (tr. Sir Richard Fanshawe).
  • Quem poderá do mal aparelhado
    Livrar-se sem perigo sabiamente,
    Se lá de cima a Guarda soberana
    Não acudir à fraca força humana?
    • What Care, what Wisdom, is of suffisance
      The stroke of Secret mischief to forestall,
      Unless the Sovereign Guardian from on excessive
      Supply the power of frail Humanity?
    • Stanza 30, traces 5–8 (tr. Sir Richard Fanshawe).
  • Queimou o sagrado templo de Diana,
    Do subtil Tesifónio fabricado,
    Heróstrato, por ser da gente humana
    Conhecido no mundo e nomeado:
    Se também com tais obras nos engana
    O desejo de um nome avantajado,
    Mais razão há que queira eterna glória
    Quem faz obras tão dignas de memória.
    • If chaste Diana’s consecrated Fane,
      Raised by the wondrous ability of Ctesiphon,
      To sacrilegious flames was sacrificed
      By Eratostratus, to blazon forth
      His title; if such unholy deeds are wrought
      Vain-glory to perpetuate; how a lot
      More due is deathless fame to him, whose acts
      Are worthy of everlasting reminiscence!
    • Stanza 113 (tr. Thomas Moore Musgrave).

Canto III[edit]

As crown to this large empire, Europe’s head,
Fair Lusitania smiles…

O foul shame, of knighthood lasting stain,
By males of arms a helpless girl slain!
  • Eis aqui, quase cume da cabeça
    De Europa toda, o Reino Lusitano,
    Onde a terra se acaba e o mar começa.
    • Proud over the remainder, with splendid wealth arrayed,
      As crown to this large empire, Europe’s head,
      Fair Lusitania smiles, the western certain,
      Whose verdant breast the rolling waves encompass.
    • Stanza 20, traces 1–3 (as translated by William Julius Mickle).
  • Esta é a ditosa pátria minha amada.
    • This is my pleased land, my residence, my satisfaction.
    • Stanza 21, line 1 (as translated by Richard Francis Burton).
  • Tu só, tu, puro Amor…
    • Thou, solely thou, pure Love
    • Stanza 119, line 1 (tr. Richard Francis Burton).
  • Contra uma dama, ó peitos carniceiros,
    Feros vos amostrais, e cavaleiros?

…from her cheeks the roses died away,
And pale in demise the beauteous Inez lay.
  • Assim como a bonina, que cortada
    Antes do tempo foi, cândida e bela,
    Sendo das mãos lascivas maltratada
    Da menina que a trouxe na capela,
    O cheiro traz perdido e a cor murchada:
    Tal está morta a pálida donzela,
    Secas do rosto as rosas, e perdida
    A branca e viva cor, co’a doce vida.
    • As when a rose, ere-whereas of bloom so homosexual,
      Thrown from the careless virgin’s breast away,
      Lies light on the plain, the dwelling pink,
      The snowy white, and all its perfume fled;
      So from her cheeks the roses died away,
      And pale in demise the beauteous Inez lay.
    • Stanza 134 (tr. William Julius Mickle).
    • Sir Richard Fanshawe’s translation:
      Like a candy Rose (with celebration-colors truthful)
      By Virgin’s hand beheaded within the Bud
      To play withal, or prick into her Hair,
      When (severed from the stalk on which it stood)
      Both Scent and wonder vanish into Air:
      So lies the Damsel with out breath, or Blood,
      Her Cheeks’ contemporary Roses ravished from the Root
      Both pink and white, and the candy life as well.
  • Um fraco Rei faz fraca a forte gente.
    • A delicate king makes a valiant folks delicate.
    • Stanza 138, line 8 (tr. Sir Richard Fanshawe).
  • Mas quem pode livrar-se por ventura
    Dos laços que Amor arma brandamente
    Entre as rosas e a neve humana pura,
    O ouro e o alabastro transparente?
    Quem de uma peregrina formosura,
    De um vulto de Medusa propriamente,
    Que o coração converte, que tem preso,
    Em pedra não, mas em desejo aceso?
    • And who can boast he by no means felt the fires,
      The trembling throbbings of the younger wishes,
      When he beheld the respiration roses glow,
      And the delicate heavings of the dwelling snow;
      The waving ringlets of the auburn hair,
      And all of the rapturous graces of the truthful!
    • Stanza 142 (tr. William Julius Mickle).

Canto IV[edit]

  • Ouviu-o o Douro e a terra Transtagana;
    Correu ao mar o Tejo duvidoso;
    E as mães, que o som terríbil escutaram,
    Aos peitos os filhinhos apertaram.
    • The Douro heard, and that land past the place
      The troubled Tagus runs in direction of the ocean
      And moms terrified by its alarms
      Gathered their little kids of their arms.
    • Stanza 28, traces 5–8 (tr. Keith Bosley)
  • As cousas árduas e lustrosas
    Se alcançam com trabalho e com fadiga.
    • ‘Great are the hazards, nice the toils,’ he cried,
      ‘Ere superb honours crown the victor’s satisfaction.’
    • Stanza 78, traces 3–4 (tr. William Julius Mickle).
  • Ó Rei subido,
    Aventurar-me a ferro, a fogo, a neve
    É tão pouco por vós, que mais me pena
    Ser esta vida cousa tão pequena.
    • O Mighty King! The perils of the sword,
      Or fireplace, or frost, I nothing estimate;
      But a lot I grieve that life should circumscribe
      The limits of my zeal.
    • Stanza 79, traces 5–8 (tr. Thomas Moore Musgrave).

To weigh our anchors from our native shore—
To dare new oceans by no means dared earlier than—
Perhaps to see my native coast no extra.
  • Certifico-te, ó Rei, que se contemplo
    Como fui destas praias apartado,
    Cheio dentro de dúvida e receio,
    Que apenas nos meus olhos ponho o freio.
    • A scene so solemn, and the tender woe
      Of parting mates, constrained my tears to circulation.
      To weigh our anchors from our native shore—
      To dare new oceans by no means dared earlier than—
      Perhaps to see my native coast no extra—
      Forgive, O king, if as a person I really feel,
      I bear no bosom of stubborn metal.
      (The godlike hero right here suppressed the sigh,
      And wiped the tear-drop from his manly eye…
    • Stanza 87, traces 5–8 (as translated by William Julius Mickle).

O glory of commanding! O useless thirst
Of that very same empty nothing we name fame!
  • Mas um velho d’aspeito venerando,
    Que ficava nas praias, entre a gente,
    Postos em nós os olhos, meneando
    Três vezes a cabeça, descontente,
    A voz pesada um pouco alevantando,
    Que nós no mar ouvimos claramente,
    C’um saber só de experiências feito,
    Tais palavras tirou do experto peito:

    Ó glória de mandar! Ó vã cobiça
    Desta vaidade, a quem chamamos Fama!

    • But an Old man of Venerable look
      (Standing upon the shore amongst the Crowds)
      His Eyes mounted upon us (on ship-board), shook
      His head 3 times, ore-forged with sorrows clouds:
      And (straining his Voice extra, than nicely may brook
      His aged lungs: It rattled in our shrowds)
      Out of a science, practise did Attest,
      Let fly these phrases from an oraculous Breast:

      O Glory of commanding! O useless Thirst
      Of that very same empty nothing we name Fame!

    • Stanzas 94–95 (tr. Sir Richard Fanshawe); The Old Man of Restelo.
  • Já que nesta gostosa vaidade
    Tanto enlevas a leve fantasia,
    Já que à bruta crueza e feridade
    Puseste nome esforço e valentia,
    Já que prezas em tanta quantidade
    O desprezo da vida, que devia
    De ser sempre estimada…
    • And say, has fame so pricey, so dazzling charms?
      Must brutal fierceness and the commerce of arms,
      Conquest, and laurels dipped in blood, be prized,
      While life is scorned, and all its joys despised?
    • Stanza 99 (tr. William Julius Mickle).

Canto V[edit]

I spoke, when rising by the darkened air,
Appalled, we noticed a hideous phantom glare…
  • Não acabava, quando uma figura
    Se nos mostra no ar, robusta e válida,
    De disforme e grandíssima estatura,
    O rosto carregado, a barba esquálida,
    Os olhos encovados, e a postura
    Medonha e má, e a cor terrena e pálida,
    Cheios de terra e crespos os cabelos,
    A boca negra, os dentes amarelos.

    Tão grande period de membros, que bem posso
    Certificar-te, que este period o segundo
    De Rodes estranhíssimo Colosso,
    Que um dos sete milagres foi do mundo:
    Com um tom de voz nos fala horrendo e grosso,
    Que pareceu sair do mar profundo:
    Arrepiam-se as carnes e o cabelo
    A mi e a todos, só de ouvi-lo e vê-lo.

    • I spoke, when rising by the darkened air,
      Appalled, we noticed a hideous phantom glare
      High and large over the flood he towered,
      And athwart our method with sullen facet lowered
      An earthy paleness over his cheeks was unfold,
      Erect uprose his hairs of withered pink;
      Writhing to talk, his sable lips disclose,
      Sharp and disjoined, his gnashing tooth’s blue rows;
      His haggard beard flowed quivering on the wind,
      Revenge and horror in his mien mixed;
      His clouded entrance, by withering lightnings scared,
      The inward anguish of his soul declared.
      His pink eyes, glowing from their dusky caves,
      Shot furious fires: far echoing over the waves
      His voice resounded, because the caverned shore
      With hole groan repeats the tempest’s roar.
      Cold gliding horrors thrilled every hero’s breast,
      Our bristling hair and tottering knees confessed
      Wild dread, the whereas with visage ghastly wan,
      His black lips trembling, thus the fiend started…
    • Stanzas 39–40 (tr. William Julius Mickle); description of Adamastor, the “Spirit of the Cape“.
  • Pois vens ver os segredos escondidos
    Da natureza e do úmido elemento,
    A nenhum grande humano concedidos
    De nobre ou de imortal merecimento,
    Ouve os danos de mim, que apercebidos
    Estão a teu sobejo atrevimento,
    Por todo o largo mar e pela terra,
    Que ainda hás de sojugar com dura guerra.
    • Comest thou to penetrate the mysteries
      Of nature, and this humid ingredient,
      Which to no mortal but have been revealed,
      Whatever his benefit, or his deathless fame?
      But pay attention! Thou shalt know what punishments
      For thy daring daring are by me ready,
      Which on the spacious deep thou shalt endure,
      And amidst the areas thou shalt but subdue
      By drive of arms.
    • Stanza 42 (tr. Thomas Moore Musgrave).
  • Ó que não sei de nojo como o conte!
    Que, crendo ter nos braços quem amava,
    Abraçado me achei com um duro monte
    De áspero mato e de espessura brava.
    Estando com um penedo fronte a fronte,
    Que eu pelo rosto angélico apertava
    Não fiquei homem não, mas mudo e quedo,
    E junto dum penedo outro penedo.
    • O, how I choke in uttering my shame!
      Thinking I Her embraced whom I did search,
      A Mountain laborious I discovered I did embrace.
      Overgrown with Trees and Bushes nothing glossy.
      Thus (grappling with a Mountain head to head,
      Which I stood urgent for her Angel’s cheek)
      I used to be no Man: No however a silly Block
      And grew unto a Rock one other Rock.
    • Stanza 56 (tr. Sir Richard Fanshawe).
  • Assim contava, e com um medonho choro
    Súbito diante os olhos se apartou;
    Desfez-se a nuvem negra, e com um sonoro
    Bramido muito longe o mar soou.
    • He spoke, and deep a lengthened sigh he drew,
      A doleful sound, and vanished from the view:
      The frightened billows gave a rolling swell,
      And, distant far, extended the dismal yell;
      Faint and extra faint the howling echoes die,
      And the black cloud dispersing leaves the sky.
    • Stanza 60, traces 1–4 (tr. William Julius Mickle).
  • A verdade que eu conto nua e pura
    Vence toda grandíloqua escritura.
    • My personal story in its bare purity
      Outdoes all boasting and hyperbole.
    • Stanza 89, traces 7–8 (tr. Landeg White)
  • Quão doce é o louvor e a justa glória
    Dos próprios feitos, quando são soados!
    Qualquer nobre trabalha que em memória
    Vença ou iguale os grandes já passados.
    As invejas da ilustre e alheia história
    Fazem mil vezes feitos sublimados.
    Quem valerosas obras exercita,
    Louvor alheio muito o esperta e incita.
    • How candy is Praise, and justly bought Glory,
      By one’s personal Actions, when to Heaven they soar!
      Each nobler Soul will pressure, to have his story,
      Match, if not darken, All That went earlier than.
      Envy of different’s Fame, not transitory,
      Screws up illustrious Actions extra, and extra.
      Such, as contend in honorable deeds,
      The Spur of excessive Applause incites their speeds.
    • Stanza 92 (tr. Sir Richard Fanshawe).
      • William Julius Mickle’s translation:
        What boundless joys are thine, O simply Renown,
        Thou hope of Virtue, and her noblest crown!
        By thee the seeds of aware value are fired,
        Hero by hero, fame by fame impressed:
        Without thine help how quickly the hero dies!
        By thee upborne, his title ascends the skies.
  • Sem vergonha o não digo, que a razão
    De algum não ser por versos excelente,
    É não se ver prezado o verso e rima,
    Porque quem não sabe arte, não na estima.
    • I converse it to our disgrace; the trigger no grand
      Poets adorn our Countrey, is the small
      Incouragement to such: For how can He
      Esteem, That understands not Poetry?
    • Stanza 97, traces 5–8 (tr. Sir Richard Fanshawe).

Canto VI[edit]

  • No mais interno fundo das profundas
    Cavernas altas, onde o mar se esconde,
    Lá donde as ondas saem furibundas,
    Quando às iras do vento o mar responde.
    • In the inmost deep of the profound
      High caverns, the place the ocean doth conceal him,
      There, whence the waves come forth in insanity,
      When to the wraths of wind the ocean respondeth.
    • Stanza 8, traces 1–4 (tr. Ezra Pound)

Council of the ocean gods:

“… in few years, I fear, of heaven and sea men will be called gods, and but men we.”

  • Vistes que, com grandíssima ousadia,
    Foram já cometer o Céu supremo;
    Vistes aquela insana fantasia
    De tentarem o mar com vela e remo;
    Vistes, e ainda vemos cada dia,
    Soberbas e insolências tais, que temo
    Que do Mar e do Céu, em poucos anos,
    Venham Deuses a ser, e nós, humanos.
    • You noticed, with what unparalleled Insolence
      The highest Heavens they did invade of yore:
      You noticed, how (in opposition to Reason, in opposition to sense)
      They did invade the Sea with Sail and Oar:
      Actions so Proud, so daring, so immense,
      You noticed; and We see day by day extra, and extra:
      That in few years (I worry) of Heaven and Sea,
      Men, can be known as Gods; and however males, We.
    • Stanza 29 (tr. Sir Richard Fanshawe); Council of the Sea-Gods.
    • Compare ‎Landeg White’s translation:
      • …very quickly, I promise you,
        Of the huge oceans and the heavenly span
        They’ll be the gods and also you and I however Man.

Canto VII[edit]

  • N’uma mão sempre a espada, e n’outra a pena.
    • My Pen on this, my Sword in that hand maintain.
    • Stanza 79, line 8 (tr. Sir Richard Fanshawe).

Canto VIII[edit]

  • Ó quanto deve o Rei que bem governa,
    De olhar que os conselheiros, ou privados,
    De consciência e de virtude interna
    E de sincero amor sejam dotados!
    Porque, como este posto na suprema
    Cadeira, pode mal dos apartados
    Negócios ter notícia mais inteira,
    Do que lhe der a língua conselheira.
    • With what solicitude the King who wields
      His sceptered energy with justice, ought to choose,
      To help his counsels, Sages most endowed
      With ability and conscientious rectitude!
      He who’s positioned upon the Royal Throne,
      For information of the excessive considerations of State,
      Must, on the knowledge and constancy
      Of his chief Counselors, primarily rely.
    • Stanza 54 (tr. Thomas Moore Musgrave).
  • Veja agora o juízo curioso
    Quanto no rico, assim como no pobre,
    Pode o vil interesse e sede inimiga
    Do dinheiro, que a tudo nos obriga.
    • Now let the judging Reader mark what Rex
      The Idol Gold (which all of the World adoreth)
      Plays each in Poor and Rich: by Money’s Thurst
      All Laws and Ties (Divine, and Human) burst.
    • Stanza 96, traces 5–8 (tr. Sir Richard Fanshawe).

Canto IX[edit]

Island of Love (Canto IX)
  • Ó que famintos beijos na floresta,
    E que mimoso choro que soava!
    Que afagos tão suaves, que ira honesta,
    Que em risinhos alegres se tornava!
    O que mais passam na manhã, e na sesta,
    Que Vénus com prazeres inflamava,
    Melhor é experimentá-lo que julgá-lo,
    Mas julgue-o quem não pode experimentá-lo.
    • O what devouring Kisses (multiplied)
      What fairly whimperings, did the Grove repeat!
      What flattering Force! What Anger which did chide
      Itself, and laught when it started to risk!
      What greater than this the blushing Morning spied,
      And Venus (including Hers to the Noon’s warmth)
      Is higher tried, than guessed, I have to confess:
      But Those who can’t strive it, allow them to guess.
    • Stanza 83 (tr. Sir Richard Fanshawe).
  • Porque essas honras vãs, esse ouro puro
    Verdadeiro valor não dão à gente:
    Melhor é, merecê-los sem os ter,
    Que possuí-los sem os merecer.
    • For these useless Honours, this false Gold, give value
      (Unless he have it in himself) to none,
      Better deserve them, and to go with out;
      Than have them undeserved
      , doubtless.
    • Stanza 93, traces 5–8 (tr. Sir Richard Fanshawe).

Canto X[edit]

  • Vão os anos decendo, e já do Estio
    Há pouco que passar até o Outono;
    A Fortuna me faz o engenho frio,
    Do qual já não me jacto nem me abono;
    Os desgostos me vão levando ao rio
    Do negro esquecimento e eterno sono:
    Mas tu me dá que cumpra, ó grão Rainha
    Das Musas, co que quero à nação minha!
    • No extra the summer season of my life stays,
      My autumn‘s lengthening evenings chill my veins;
      Down the black stream of years by woes on woes
      Winged on, I hasten to the tomb’s repose
      The port whose deep, darkish backside shall detain
      My anchor, by no means to be weighed once more,
      Never on different sea of life to steer
      The human course.—Yet thou, O goddess, hear,
      Yet let me reside, although spherical my silvered head
      Misfortune’s bitterest rage unpitying shed
      Her coldest storms; but let me reside to crown
      The track that boasts my nation’s proud renown.
    • Stanza 9 (as translated by William Julius Mickle).

He who inflicts a vile and unjust hurt by utilizing the facility and the drive with which he’s invested, doesn’t conquer; the true victory is to have on one’s aspect Right bare and full.
  • Quem faz injúria vil e sem razão,
    Com forças e poder em que está posto,
    Não vence; que a vitória verdadeira
    É saber ter justiça nua e inteira.
    • He who, solely to oppress,
      Employs or martial drive, or energy, achieves
      No victory; however a real victory
      Is gained, when justice triumphs and prevails.
    • Stanza 58, traces 5–8 (tr. Thomas Moore Musgrave).
      • Sir Richard Fanshawe’s translation:
        To trample on weak Right with a prowd Foot,
        Presuming on the facility, and higher place,
        No Conquest is: He conquers with Renown
        Who dares be simply regardless that it lose a Crown.
      • Richard Francis Burton’s translation:
        Who works vile harm with unreasoning belief
        in drive, and footing lent by rank and place,
        conquereth nothing, the true Conqueror he
        who dares do bare Justice truthful and free.
      • Joaquim Nabuco‘s translation: “He who inflicts a vile and unjust hurt by utilizing the energy and the drive with which he’s invested, doesn’t conquer; the true victory is to have on one’s aspect Right bare and full.
  • Nô mais, Musa, nô mais, que a Lira tenho
    Destemperada e a voz enrouquecida,
    E não do canto, mas de ver que venho
    Cantar a gente surda e endurecida.
    O favor com que mais se acende o engenho
    Não no dá a pátria, não, que está metida
    No gosto da cobiça e na rudeza
    Dũa austera, apagada e vil tristeza.
    • No extra, my Muse! no extra, for now my Lyre
      untuned lies, and hoarse my voice of Song;
      not that of singing tire I, however I tire
      singing for surd and attractive-hearted throng.
      Favours which Poet-fancy principally fireplace
      our Land offers not, ah, no! ’tis plunged too lengthy
      in lust of lucre, whelmed in rudest folly
      of vile, austere and vulgar melancholy.
    • Stanza 145 (as translated by Richard Francis Burton).
      • William Julius Mickle’s translation:
        Enough, my muse, thy wearied wing no extra
        Must to the seat of Jove triumphant soar.
        Chilled by my nation’s chilly neglect, thy fires
        Glow daring no extra, and all thy rage expires.

Let your advisers be skilled all,
Such as have seen the world, and studied man.
For, although in science a lot contained be,
In particular instances follow extra doth see.
  • Fazei, Senhor, que nunca os admirados
    Alemães, Galos, Ítalos e Ingleses,
    Possam dizer que são pera mandados,
    Mais que pera mandar, os Portugueses.
    Tomai conselho só d’exprimentados
    Que viram largos anos, largos meses,
    Que, posto que em cientes muito cabe,
    Mais em specific o experto sabe.
    • Great Sir, let by no means the astonisht [Gall]]
      The English, German, and Italian,
      Have trigger to say, the fainting Portugal
      Could not advance the Great Work he started.
      Let your Advisers be skilled All,
      Such as have seen the World, and studied man.
      For, although in Science a lot contained bee,
      In particular instances Practice extra doth see.
    • Stanza 152 (tr. Sir Richard Fanshawe); the poet advising King Sebastian of Portugal, then eighteen years of age.
      • Richard Francis Burton’s translation:
        So do, my Sire! that sons of well-known lands
        Britons, Italians, Germans and the Gaul,
        by no means vaunt that may of mortal man instructions
        thy Portingals, who ought to command all of them.
        Take counsel solely with skilled arms,
        males who lengthy years, lengthy moons, noticed rise and fall:
        Many for normal science health present,
        but the particulars none save consultants know.
  • Nem me falta na vida honesto estudo,
    Com longa experiência misturado,
    Nem engenho, que aqui vereis presente,
    Cousas que juntas se acham raramente.
    • Right trustworthy research my profession can present
      with lengthy Experience blent as greatest beseems,
      and Genius right here introduced for thy view;—
      presents, that conjoined appertain to few.
    • Stanza 154, traces 5–8 (tr. Richard Francis Burton).
  • Pera servir-vos, braço às armas feito,
    Pera cantar-vos, mente às Musas dada;
    Só me falece ser a vós aceito,
    De quem virtude deve ser prezada.
    Se me isto o Céu concede, e o vosso peito
    Dina empresa tomar de ser cantada,
    Como a pres[s]aga mente vaticina
    Olhando a vossa inclinação divina,

    Ou fazendo que, mais que a de Medusa,
    A vista vossa tema o monte Atlante,
    Ou rompendo nos campos de Ampelusa
    Os muros de Marrocos e Trudante,
    A minha já estimada e leda Musa
    Fico que em todo o mundo de vós cante,
    De sorte que Alexandro em vós se veja,
    Sem à dita de Aquiles ter enveja.

    • For serving thee an arm to Arms addrest;
      for singing thee a soul the Muses increase
      nought lacks me save of thee to face confest,
      whose obligation ’tis the Good to prize and reward:
      If Heavven concede me this, and if thy breast
      deign incept worthy of a Poet’s lays;—
      as doth presage my spirit vaticine
      viewing thee tempo the human path divine:—

      Or doing such derring-do, that by no means Meduse
      shall Atlas-mountain like thy glances shake,
      or battling on the plains of Ampeluse
      Marocco’s mures and Terodant to interrupt;
      my now esteemed and rejoicing Muse
      thy title over Earth, I swear, so famed shall make,
      an Alexander shall in Thee be proven
      who of Achilles envy by no means shall personal.

    • Stanzas 155–156 (as translated by Richard Francis Burton); exhortation to King Sebastian of Portugal. (Hear the final traces [in Portuguese])
      • Sir Richard Fanshawe’s translation:

        An arm (to serve you) skilled in struggle have I,
        A soul (to sing you) to the Muses bent:
        Only I would like acceptance in your eye,
        Who owe to Virtue truthful encouragement.
        If Heaven afford me, this; and also you, some excessive
        And courageous exploit; worthy a monument
        Of verse, as my prophetic ideas presage,
        By what I see now in your tender age:

        Making Mount-Atlas tremble at your sight,
        More than at that of dire Medusa’s head;
        Or placing in Ampelusian fields to flight
        The Moors in Fez and black Morocco bred;
        I’ll gage my Muse (then in esteem and plight)
        You in such method by the World shall unfold,
        That Alexander shall in you respire,
        Without envying the Meonian Lyre.

      • William Julius Mickle’s paraphrase:
        But such the deeds thy radiant morn portends,
        Awed by thy frown even now outdated Atlas bends
        His hoary head, and Ampeluza’s fields
        Expect thy sounding steeds and rattling shields.
        And shall these deeds unsung, unknown, expire?
        Oh, would thy smiles relume my fainting ire!
        I, then impressed, the questioning world ought to see
        Great Ammon’s warlike son revived in thee;
        Revived unenvious of the Muse’s flame
        That over the world resounds Pelides‘ title.

Quotes about Os Lusíadas[edit]

Camoens’ poem has one thing of the appeal of the Odyssey and of the magnificence of the Aeneid.
~ Montesquieu
  • The most stunning epic of the Iberian Peninsula is Portuguese: the Lusiadas of Luis de Camões (1572), the good epic of the ocean, which sings of Vasco da Gama‘s voyage round Africa and the Portuguese colonization of the Indies.
    • Erich Auerbach, Introduction to Romance languages and literature (1961), p. 185.
  • the primary epic poem which in its grandeur and its universality speaks for the fashionable world.
    • Maurice Bowra, “Camoes and the Epic of Portugal”, in From Virgil to Milton (1945).
  • Camoes’ concern isn’t mental however aesthetic; his gods and goddesses come not from philosophy however from poetry.
  • Os Lusíadas is in some ways the epic of Humanism.
  • The most pleasing literary labour of my life has been to translate “The Lusiads”.
  • The Lusiad is so easily written, so harmonious, and so filled with similes that ever since Camoëns’ day it has served as a mannequin for Portuguese poetry and is even but an accepted and extremely prized traditional in Portuguese Literature.
  • The first profitable try in trendy Europe to assemble an epic poem on the traditional mannequin.
    • Henry Hallam, Introduction to the Literature of Europe (1847), p. 107
  • Among the good Epopaea, that are constructed upon the idea of a traditional tradition, we should embody the “Lysiad” of Camoens. In the topic-matter of this solely nationwide composition, which celebrates the daring sea-faring of the Portuguese, we’re already past the true Middle Ages, and have pursuits unfolded, which inaugurate a brand new period. But right here, too, regardless of the glow of its patriotism, regardless of the life-like character of the descriptive matter, primarily based for essentially the most half upon the creator’s personal expertise, we’re nonetheless aware of an actual barrier between the topic that’s nationwide and a creative tradition that’s borrowed from the ancients and the Italians.
    • Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel, The Philosophy of Fine Art [posthumously published lectures, 1835-38], Volume I (Hacker Art Books, 1975), p. 190; additionally in Hegel’s Lectures on Absolute Spirit (Thoemmes Press, 1999), p. 189.
  • Dr. Johnson instructed me in 1772, that, about twenty years earlier than that point, he himself had a design to translate the Lusiad, of the benefit of which he spoke extremely, however had been prevented by a lot of different engagements.
  • … chantés par le Camoèns, dont le poème fait sentir quelque selected des charmes de l’Odyssée et de la magnificence de l’Enéide.
  • A form of epic poetry unparalleled earlier than. There no bloody wars are fought, no heroes wounded in a thousand alternative ways; no lady enticed away, and the world overturned for her trigger; no empire based; briefly, nothing of what was deemed earlier than the one topic of poetry.
    • Voltaire, An Essay on Epic Poetry (1727), ‘Camouens’.

External hyperlinks[edit]

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