quoyle Dicembre 17th, 2004

Musica per riavvii, per ripartire. Guinga, tanto grande quanto sconosciuto cantautore e chitarrista brasiliano. Io lo ricordo la prima volta che ho sentito un suo pezzo Catavento e Girasol, sono rimasto senza parole per quanto fosse insolita l’armonia e l’atmosfera, ed il testo bellissimo di Aldir Blanc.
Una capacita’ di creare melodie non prevedibili, armonizzazioni geniali ed atmosfere rilassanti, meditative. La musica giusta da usare come pennello per iniziare a tinteggiare di bianco il grigio e preparare l’azzurro. La versione di Leila Pinheiro di questo pezzo e’ incredibile, dolce ed ispirata con gli arrangiamenti di archi sempre di Guinga veramente belli (tra l’altro esiste anche un video bellissimo di un concerto Live di Leila Pinheiro con Guinga, dove e’ possibile apprezzare la grande tecnica di questo genio della musica brasiliana.) Qui ho messo gli accordi ed il testo originale di seguito una traduzione in inglese del testo.

The Pinwheel and the sunflower

My pinwheel has inside it
What’s on the outside of
your sunflower.
Between the open and the shut,
I asked you in sharp
And you laughed in flat.
You think only of space,
I require duration.
I’m a suburban cat
You’re a beach person.
When I obey the traffic lights,
I see you on skates
Coming on the wrong side
But when I come on as macho
You turn into a doormat
And don’t want confusion.
Neither of us gives in.
We don’t listen to advice:
I am the you that gets
Sucked into the mirror.

I’m from Engenho de Dentro
And you live in the wind of Arpoador.
I’m retiring
And you’re gregarious
(the insect and the flower).
One of us roots for Mia Farrow,
The other for Woody Allen…
When I whistle a serenade
You dance the hula.

I go in sneakers and jeans,
Find you overdressed:
High heels, evening togs…
When we fight on the street corner,
You put on airs
And insult me in English:
It’s “fuck you, jack-off”
And no one dares interfere:
You are the me that gets
Sucked into the mirror.

We make peace in a motel
With our souls washed and pressed
Only to discover shortly thereafter
That it was to no avail.
During Carnaval,
The disillusion grows:
You go to Parati
And I to Cacique de Ramos.

My pinwheel has inside it
The wide-open wind of Arpoador.
Your sunflower has outside it
The hidden engine from within
the flower.
I’m very nostalgic,
You’re contemporary,
I think before I do anything,
You’re so spontaneous!

I know that one depends on the other
Just to be different,
To be complete.
I know that one leaves the other
When times get tough only to get closer.
You have a green way of being
And I’m rather red
But together we go
Sucked into the mirror.