5 POEMS IN PORTUGUESE

5 Poems In Portuguese Every Student Needs To Know

Hello, dear all! Today I am going to show you 5 poems in Portuguese, from different Portuguese authors. I will add as well the English translations, in case you are still a beginner, so you can better understand the text 🙂

I also created a Youtube video where I am reading the poems. You can check it out here:

I have a lot of other useful videos on my YouTube channel, both in English and Portuguese.

So, here are my 5 favourite Portuguese poems:

É urgente o amor – Eugénio de Andrade


The first poem is called “É urgente o amor” (“Love is urgent”) and it is from Eugénio de Andrade, which is one of my favourite Portuguese poets.

So, the poem is as follows:

É urgente o amor (Eugénio de Andrade):

É urgente o amor.
É urgente um barco no mar.

É urgente destruir certas palavras,
ódio, solidão e crueldade,
alguns lamentos,
muitas espadas.

É urgente inventar alegria,
multiplicar os beijos, as searas,
é urgente descobrir rosas e rios
e manhãs claras.

Cai o silêncio nos ombros e a luz
impura, até doer.
É urgente o amor, é urgente
permanecer.

É urgente o amor – Love is urgent (Eugénio de Andrade) English Translation:

Love is urgent
It is urgent a boat in the sea.

It is urgent to destroy certain words,
hatred, loneliness and cruelty,
some sorrows,
many swords.

It is urgent to make up joy,
to multiply the kisses, the cornfields,
it is urgent to discover roses and rivers
and bright mornings.

The silence falls on the shoulders and the impure
light, until it hurts.
Love is urgent, it is urgent to
stay.

So, this was the first poem. What do you think about it?

Eugénio de Andrade
Eugénio de Andrade

Poema à mãe – Eugénio de Andrade


The second poem is a poem dedicated to all the mothers, it is a poem that is called “Poema à mãe” (“Poem to the mother”) and it is also from Eugénio de Andrade.

Poema à mãe (Eugénio de Andrade):

No mais fundo de ti,
eu sei que traí, mãe!

Tudo porque já não sou
o retrato adormecido
no fundo dos teus olhos!

Tudo porque tu ignoras
que há leitos onde o frio não se demora
e noites rumorosas de águas matinais!

Por isso, às vezes, as palavras que te digo
são duras, mãe,
e o nosso amor é infeliz.

Tudo porque perdi as rosas brancas
que apertava junto ao coração
no retrato da moldura!

Se soubesses como ainda amo as rosas,
talvez não enchesses as horas de pesadelos…

Mas tu esqueceste muita coisa!
Esqueceste que as minhas pernas cresceram,
que todo o meu corpo cresceu,
e até o meu coração
ficou enorme, mãe!

Olha – queres ouvir-me? -,
às vezes ainda sou o menino
que adormeceu nos teus olhos;

ainda aperto contra o coração
rosas tão brancas
como as que tens na moldura;

ainda oiço a tua voz:
“Era uma vez uma princesa
no meio de um laranjal…”

Mas – tu sabes! – a noite é enorme
e todo o meu corpo cresceu…

Eu saí da moldura,
dei às aves os meus olhos a beber.

Não me esqueci de nada, mãe.
Guardo a tua voz dentro de mim.
E deixo-te as rosas…

Boa noite. Eu vou com as aves!

Poema à mãe – Poem to the mother (Eugénio de Andrade) English Translation:

Deep within you,
I know I cheated, Mom!

All because I’m no longer
the sleeping portrait
in the depth of your eyes!

All because you ignore
that there are beds where the cold doesn’t linger
and rumbling nights of morning waters!

That’s why sometimes the words I say to you
are hard, mother,
and our love is unhappy.

All because I lost the white roses
that I pressed close to the heart
in the picture frame!

If you only knew how much I still love the roses,
maybe you wouldn’t fill the hours with nightmares…

But you forgot a lot!
You forgot that my legs grew,
that my whole body has grown,
and even my heart
it got huge, mom!

Look – do you wanna hear me? -,
sometimes I’m still the boy
who fell asleep in your eyes;

I still hold tight against the heart
roses so white
like the ones in the frame;

I still hear your voice:
“Once upon a time there was a princess
in the middle of an orange grove…”

But – you know! – the night is huge
and my whole body grew…

I left the frame,
I gave the birds my eyes to drink.

I didn’t forget anything, Mom.
I keep your voice inside me.
And I leave you the roses…

Goodnight. I go with the birds!

It is a very beautiful poem about growing up. Don’t you think?

Let’s check out the next one!

Aniversário – Ricardo Reis


The third poem for today is from Ricardo Reis who was one of the heteronyms of the poet Fernando Pessoa. Maybe some of you already know Fernando Pessoa. This poem is called “Aniversário” (“Birthday”) and it is one of my favourite, too.

Aniversário (Ricardo Reis):

No tempo em que festejavam o dia dos meus anos,
Eu era feliz e ninguém estava morto.
Na casa antiga, até eu fazer anos era uma tradição de há séculos,
E a alegria de todos, e a minha, estava certa com uma religião qualquer.

No tempo em que festejavam o dia dos meus anos,
Eu tinha a grande saúde de não perceber coisa nenhuma,
De ser inteligente para entre a família,
E de não ter as esperanças que os outros tinham por mim.
Quando vim a ter esperanças, já não sabia ter esperanças.
Quando vim a olhar para a vida, perdera o sentido da vida.

Sim, o que fui de suposto a mim-mesmo,
O que fui de coração e parentesco.
O que fui de serões de meia-província,
O que fui de amarem-me e eu ser menino,
O que fui – ai, meu Deus!, o que só hoje sei que fui…
A que distância!…
(Nem o acho…)
O tempo em que festejavam o dia dos meus anos!

O que eu sou hoje é como a humidade no corredor do fim da casa,
Pondo grelado nas paredes…
O que eu sou hoje (e a casa dos que me amaram treme através das minhas lágrimas),
O que eu sou hoje é terem vendido a casa,
É terem morrido todos,
É estar eu sobrevivente a mim-mesmo como um fósforo frio…

No tempo em que festejavam o dia dos meus anos…
Que meu amor, como uma pessoa, esse tempo!
Desejo físico da alma de se encontrar ali outra vez,
Por uma viagem metafísica e carnal,
Com uma dualidade de eu para mim…
Comer o passado como pão de fome, sem tempo de manteiga nos dentes!

Aniversário – Birthday (Ricardo Reis) English Translation:

When they celebrated my birthday,
I was happy and nobody was dead.
In the old house, even my birthday it was a tradition for centuries,
And everyone’s joy, and mine, was sure with some kind of religion.

When they celebrated my birthday,
I had the great health of not understanding anything,
To be smart among the family,
And not having the hopes that others had for me.
When I came to hope, I no longer knew how to hope.
When I came to look at life, I had lost the meaning of life.

Yes, what I was supposed to be myself,
What I was from heart and kinship.
What I was of half-province evenings,
What I was of others loving me and me being a boy,
What I was – oh my God, what I only know today…
How far!…
(I can’t even tell…)
The time when they celebrated my birthday!

What I am today is like dampness in the hallway at the end of the house,
Putting mould on the walls…
What I am today (and the home of those who loved me trembles through my tears),
What I am today is having sold the house,
It’s that they all died,
It’s me surviving myself like a cold match…

The time when they celebrated my birthday!
That my love, as a person, this time!
The soul’s physical desire to find itself there again,
For a metaphysical and carnal journey,
With a duality of me to me…
Eating the past like hunger bread, without butter time on your teeth!

This poem is also very pretty, about being small and having our whole family with us on our birthday and not understanding the happiness we are in.

I really like this poem.

Florbela Espanca

Rústica – Florbela Espanca


Ok, the forth poem is from Florbela Espanca. She is a Portuguese poet that I also really like and the poem is called “Rústica” (“Rustic”).

Rústica (Florbela Espanca):

Ser a moça mais linda do povoado,
Pisar, sempre contente, o mesmo trilho,
Ver descer sobre o ninho aconchegado
A benção do Senhor em cada filho.

Um vestido de chita bem lavado,
Cheirando a alfazema e a tomilho…
Com o luar matar a sede ao gado,
Dar às pombas o sol num grão de milho…

Ser pura como a água da cisterna,
Ter confiança numa vida eterna
Quando descer à «terra da verdade»…

Meu Deus, dai-me esta calma, esta pobreza!
Dou por elas meu trono de Princesa,
E todos os meus Reinos de Ansiedade.

Rústica – Rustic (Florbela Espanca) English Translation:

To be the most beautiful girl in the village,
Stepping, always happy, on the same track,
See descending on the cozy nest
The Lord’s blessing with every child.

A well-washed calico dress,
Smelling of lavender and thyme…
With the moonlight quenching the thirst of the cattle,
Give the doves the sun on a grain of corn…

To be pure like the water in the cistern,
Have confidence in eternal life
When descending to the «land of truth»…

My God, give me this calmness, this poverty!
For them, I give up my Princess throne,
And all my Anxiety Realms.

Mar Português – Fernando Pessoa


And finally, I have a poem from Fernando Pessoa himself, about Portugal and the discoveries, that goes like this:

Mar Português (Fernando Pessoa):

Ó mar salgado, quanto do teu sal
São lágrimas de Portugal!
Por te cruzarmos, quantas mães choraram,
Quantos filhos em vão rezaram!
Quantas noivas ficaram por casar
Para que fosses nosso, ó mar!

Valeu a pena? Tudo vale a pena
Se a alma não é pequena.
Quem quer passar além do Bojador
Tem que passar além da dor.
Deus ao mar o perigo e o abismo deu,
Mas nele é que espelhou o céu.

Mar Português – Portuguese Sea (Fernando Pessoa) English Translation:

Oh salty sea, how much of your salt
Are the tears of Portugal!
Because we crossed you, how many mothers cried,
How many children prayed in vain!
How many brides never married
So that you would be ours, oh sea!

Was It worth it? All is worth it
If the soul is not small.
Those who want to pass beyond Bojador
Have to pass beyond the pain
God gave danger and the abysm to the sea,
But it was also there where He mirrored the sky.

Fernando Pessoa

And that’s it. These were the five poems of different Portuguese authors that I hope you have liked and that I love. In one of my next articles, if you liked these poems, I may explain them better, I may tell you about what they speak about and yes, speak a little bit about them.

So, let me know in the comments if you would like that I tell you a bit more about these poems and explain to you what they are about.

Beijinhos,
Mia

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