Sonnets from the Portuguese Puns

English translation: The planks of the vessel shattered
sign of the pious and cruel shipwreck,
from the sacred temple with the rotating sails,
(they will be) fixed on the pendulous (i.e. "hanging") walls.
From time the defamations forgiven,
and from the vigor of Orion, star of the nimbus (i.e. type of cloud that usually produces rainfall)
I collect the lost little sheep
at the riverbanks of Betis (i.e. the Guadalquivir river) scattered.
I will be pastor again (i.e. "shepherd", rarely used in English nowadays), since sailor
that God does not want, who with his arrow ( metonym for "lightning") spurs (i.e. "stimulates")
from Auster (i.e. wind from the south) the blows and from the Ocean the waters,
making at the sad tone, albeit rude,
from this cane, now wild donna (i.e. archaic word for "lady"),
saudade (i.e. "nostalgia, longing") to the beasts, and, to the boulders, pain.

Original: Las tablas de el bajel despedazadas
signum naufragii pium et crudele,
del tempio sacro con le rote vele,
ficaraon nas paredes penduradas.
Del tiempo las injurias perdonadas,
et Orionis vi nimbosae stellae
raccoglio le smarrite pecorelle
nas ribeiras do Betis espalhadas.
Volveré a ser pastor, pues marinero
quel Dio non vuol, che col suo strale sprona
do Austro os assopros e do Oceam as agoas,
haciendo al triste son, aunque grosero,
di questa canna, già selvaggia donna,
saudade a as feras, e aos penedos, magoas.

❧
The planks are pious because they have saved his life and (they are) cruel because of the shipwreck. Hanging the planks and sails on the walls of a temple was an ancient custom, whereby the remains of a shipwreck were consecrated as a sign of gratitude to the gods for saving the life of the castaway.

Once the vigor of the storm has subsided, the narrator searches for the lost little sheep scattered by the riverbanks of Betis, this tercet explains that the narrator is a pastor in love & that is disdained by his beloved, so he had decided to abandon his flock to become a sailor, but he does not want it so, hence, with his bolt, he spurs the wind and the sea to bring him back to his land, consequently, he returns to his former trade. «Saudade» & «magoas» are Portuguese words without a precise translation, the first alludes to the sadness of absent love, while the second speaks of the tender pains due to this same cause. The second tercet says that, again as a pastor, he will tr

Span-ish

The New Colossus

Emma Lazarus - 1849-1887

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,

With conquering limbs astride from land to land;

Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand

A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame

Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name

Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand

Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command

The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.

"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she

With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Silent starman serenade the seething skies

So the sovereign soil of solitude sets the sun

Each essence of elation empties the eyes

Xenogeny and xenogamy both expunge

Leering lost leaders lie to the leaves

Ubiquitous universal eulogies to the utensils

See that souls of sorrow seal their sleeves

Taking the truth and turning it tensile

Libidinous lawmakers in lechery lean

Over the overt office of the outcast’s oasis

Volatile vendettas vaccinate the valued vaseline

Eloquent empires illusioned by entasis

Tender trees tell the tales and tantalize

Idealistic idiots who indulge in to idolize

1:https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/cznqdi/fingertips_touch/

2:https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/czlnad/what_can_half_of_a_zipper_do/

É o CRIME - Bandidos da Praça Sete, BH

And I don't mean just vocabulary (but that too). PLEASE don't say that they speak 'bad' or 'wrong', I just want to know how it differs from what you would hear in a more formal setting. Thank you.

There I can hear them:

Honk honk honk honk honk honk!

Feathered wings flapping all night in the sky -

Pass me my gun, Ba. O pass me my gun!

Shredded tendons of the dying flock

Hang in the persimmons.

(It's barely September; is anyone home?)

Your father's acrid brass spittoon

Echoes the frogs a-croak on the lawn;

Country life is so goddamn racketty

And now these damned birds!

So I said, I am Browning

And hand-sprung the rhythm -

Gunbarks of gooseberried godseed.