{ ‘cálice’ by. repression violation of human rights persecution, torture, exile censorship...

{

‘Cálice’ by

Repression Violation of

Human Rights Persecution,

torture, exile Censorship and

social control Economic Crisis Hyperinflation,

unemployment

Brazilian Military Government

Tropicália Movement

“Manipulation of figurative language and use of encoded messages had already been established as means of resisting imposed silence. To contest the version of events offered by the regime, denounce official policy, or beguile censors, conscientious songwriters invented new sonorous metaphors and sang between the lines.”

‘Songs explored the quotidian violence of urban life under the regime and represented marginal subjectivities not readily subsumed by social class.’ “By using electric guitar in melodic compositions with elements of Argentine tango and African things from Bahia, we assumed an immediate posture of "being-in-the-world"-we rejected the role of a Third World country living in the shadow of more developed countries. Through our art we wanted to put forward a vision of the world at that time, from our own perspective as Brazilians“

Pai, afasta de mim esse cálicePai, afasta de mim esse cálicePai, afasta de mim esse cáliceDe vinho tinto de sangue

Como beber dessa bebida amargaTragar a dor, engolir a labutaDe muito gorda a porca já não andaDe muito usada a faca já não cortaComo é difícil, pai, abrir a portaEssa palavra presa na garganta

Cálice

Pai, afasta de mim esse cálicePai, afasta de mim esse cálicePai, afasta de mim esse cáliceDe vinho tinto de sangue

Como beber dessa bebida amargaTragar a dor, engolir a labutaDe muito gorda a porca já não andaDe muito usada a faca já não cortaComo é difícil, pai, abrir a portaEssa palavra presa na gargantaEsse pileque homérico no mundo

Cálice Father, move this chalice away from me Father, move this chalice away from meFather, move this chalice away from meOf red wine of blood How to drink of this bitter beverageSwallow the pain, swallow the toil Very fat, the pig no longer walksVery used, the knife no longer cutsHow hard it is, father, to open the doorThis word trapped in my throatThis homeric inebriation in the world