She grew up far from the fado houses of Lisbon and nothing suggested that she was predestined for the fado. Like almost all young Portuguese born after the revolution of 1974, she was interested in folk music, jazz, blues, bossa nova but not in fado. She regarded it as a genre for a different generation. This lasted until her 18th birthday, when her grandfather gave her the album Rara e Inédita by Amália Rodrigues. Suddenly, Cristina Branco discovered all the emotions that the genre could offer in the close connections that arose among voice, poetry and music. The amateur singer - then studying communication sciences and still full of her ambition to become a journalist - began to develop her vocal technique and to take her new vocation seriously.
After that, Cristina studied the poems from which major fado lyrics are taken.
Since then, Cristina has worked on her fado repertory, accompanied by Custódio Castelo on guitar and as composer.
Halfway through the nineties, other young musicians also found a new means of expression in the fado and this contributed to a surprising renaissance. Just as they did, Cristina Branco began to make clear choices in which respect for the tradition went hand in hand with the desire for renewal.
There can be no doubt that Cristina Branco is developing her own style from a number of primary components. She employs a traditional group (voice, Portuguese guitar, guitar and bass guitar) and offers us concurrently a light, warm and experienced voice; she mixes the traditional fado with themes and folk songs that are personal favourites and seems always to choose the words of the best Portuguese, or even Dutch poets with discretion.
O Enjeitado
Cristina Branco Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Agora sei onde e de quê irei morrer:
À beira do Tejo, de suas margens
Macilentas e inclinadas.
Nada é mais belo e triste
E a existência sublime e lenta.
De tarde vagueio pelos prados
Até romper a madrugada.
- "A vida é imensa tristura" -
E logo sinto as amarras desse mal
Que no tempo aguarda fatal.
São as varinas quem canta o fado
E os entes que já nada esperam.
-"Mais um copo pra esquecer"-
Deixam-no desamparado,
Ecoando por becos e vielas,
Num silêncio que consente.
Um deles ouvi cantar
E minha frieza tornou-se em pesar:
"Nada me consola além da dor.
A vida não conhece o perdão,
Mais não tenho que este meu fado
P'ra me encher a noite, sem amor."
No fundo, sinto-me apodrecer;
Aqui, de nada serve morrer,
Onde tudo se perde na volúpia da dor:
Lisboa, outrora cidade das cidades,
Arrasta o passado no presente,
E vê nas ruínas uma glória que mente.
Por essa miragem me encantei;
Também eu descobri e conquistei,
Para afinal, de tudo ser perdedor
Morrendo na lentidão da corrente,
Junto à campa do mais nobre
Dos sonhos: "tudo é dor".
The lyrics of "O Enjeitado" speak of the singer's sense of decay and impending death. They describe the beauty and sadness of the Tejo river and its surroundings, and how the singer wanders through meadows during the day while listening to the mournful sounds of fado at night. The lyrics convey a profound sense of hopelessness and resignation, as the singer feels trapped by the inevitability of fate and the weight of his own sorrows. The verses speak of the futility of trying to escape pain and how the city of Lisbon, once a place of glory, now embodies the singer's own feelings of loss and despair.
The song is a powerful representation of the Portuguese concept of saudade, a feeling of longing, nostalgia and melancholy that is said to be unique to the Portuguese people. The lyrics of "O Enjeitado" evoke this sense of longing for a time and place that may no longer exist, or that may only exist in memory or imagination. The song's mournful melody and Cristina Branco's haunting vocals only serve to heighten this sense of emotional depth and complexity.
Overall, "O Enjeitado" is a deeply moving and introspective song that speaks to the universal human experience of loss, mourning and the search for meaning in life.
Line by Line Meaning
No fundo, sinto-me apodrecer.
I feel myself decaying deep down.
Agora sei onde e de quê irei morrer:
À beira do Tejo, de suas margens
Macilentas e inclinadas.
Now I know where and what I will die of: by the shore of the Tagus river, with its gaunt and sloping banks.
Nada é mais belo e triste
E a existência sublime e lenta.
Nothing is more beautiful and sad, and the existence is sublime and slow.
De tarde vagueio pelos prados
E à noite ouço o queixume dos fados
Até romper a madrugada.
In the afternoon, I wander through the meadows, and at night, I listen to the lament of the fados until dawn.
- "A vida é imensa tristura" -
E logo sinto as amarras desse mal
Que no tempo aguarda fatal.
"Life is immense sadness," and I immediately feel the ropes of that disease waiting to be fatal over time.
São as varinas quem canta o fado
E os entes que já nada esperam.
-"Mais um copo pra esquecer"-
Deixam-no desamparado,
Ecoando por becos e vielas,
Num silêncio que consente.
It is the fishmongers who sing the fado, and those who no longer expect anything. "One more drink to forget," they leave him helpless, echoing through alleys and streets, in a silence that consents.
Um deles ouvi cantar
E minha frieza tornou-se em pesar:
"Nada me consola além da dor.
The vida não conhece o perdão,
Mais não tenho que este meu fado
P'ra me encher a noite, sem amor."
I heard one of them sing, and my coldness turned to sorrow: "Only pain consoles me. Life knows no forgiveness. I have nothing else but this fado to fill my loveless night."
No fundo, sinto-me apodrecer;
Aqui, de nada serve morrer,
Onde tudo se perde na volúpia da dor:
Lisboa, outrora cidade das cidades,
Arrasta o passado na presente,
E vê nas ruins uma glória que mente.
Deep down, I feel myself decaying; dying here is of no use, where everything is lost in the voluptuousness of pain. Lisbon, once the city of cities, drags the past into the present and sees a false glory in ruins.
Por essa miragem me encantei;
Também eu descobri e conquistei,
Para afinal, de tudo ser perdedor
Morrendo na lentidão da corrente,
Junto à campa do mais nobre
Dos sonhos: "tudo é dor".
I was enchanted by that mirage, and I also discovered and conquered it to finally end up losing everything, dying slowly in the current, near the grave of the noblest of dreams: "everything is pain."
Contributed by Christian C. Suggest a correction in the comments below.