Linhas Tortas [English translation]

Sometimes some people make me lose sleep, but they can't make me lose my dreams

That's why I love and recite, that's why I sing and compose (songs)

I don't own the world, but I'm the owner's son

Son of the true Owner, the true Owner.

- What's up, Gabriel, have you given up on your money?

- I canceled this job to not get bothered even more.

- Please make it clearer, what have you done exactly?

- Fine, I'll explain it to you:

Everything began at Portuguese class

I was five, maybe six

I started to write, I learnt orthography

And then essays, to general merriment

The teacher told us that our redaction was free-theme, it took me time

to choose a theme, but right after I started to dream/travel1...

And, in these dreams/travels, the characters appeared

They thought, felt, cried and smiled.

Then my great-aunt, mind you,

gave me a typewriter as a birthday gift.

I felt like I was such a good journalist,

just like my Mom, who worked with TV.

Afterwards, when I was 15 and shy,

I got very embarrassed about what my teacher did.

He picked up one of my texts and read it aloud for the whole class to hear

I confess I was a bit happy, but actually wanting to flee.

And just then, I found out I was already born with this "problem"

I like to write, I like to write, believe and see.

See, believe, I like to write and I can write poems as well.

My father, I confess, I make prose and verse

I sell books at the fair, I sell tickets at the show.

I sell disks at the shop, I've already sold more than 1 million of them.

If that is a crime, then I want to go to prison?

- Hmm, thinker, that seems serious, huh!2

Yeah, my grandmother used to say I already wrote very well.

I tried to control myself, occupy my time with sports,

such as surf, football, but they weren't my thing.

.

One day I made some raps and found they sounded quite good

I was baptized 'The Thinker' and I felt like making music.

Becoming rich and famous was never my goal,

My mother was already that, so I just wanted to be a poet.

My father - a serious man, a Gaúcho from POA and3

graduated in medicine - couldn't believe

When he saw his boy (son) Gabriel,

with headphones in his ears, dreaming while holding a pen on the paper.

- What the heck you doing? Go get some sleep, kid!

- Argh Dad, I'm just making some rap music!

No one could say for sure what that was, but I was addicted to it.

And I made others get addicted too!

My father, I confess, I make prose and verse

I sell books at the fair, I sell tickets at the show.

I sell disks at the shop, I've already sold more than 1 million of them.

If that is a crime, then I want to go to prison?

I'm not selling crack or powder.4

I'm not selling smoke or glue.5

But a lot of people told me that what I was making was addictive.

And the students got addicted when I entered the school too.

Even the teacher got contaminated sometimes

They copied my lyrics and texts and spread them.

I no longer know if the seeds that I make are good or evil.

But I know well that a lot of students are starting to do the same.

Writing poems, writing redactions

Making some raps and some shows

I remember my kids, I do miss them

Loneliness follows me from hotel to hotel

My marriage is over, I lost it on the road

The only love that was left is my love for words

It is speaking and singing, awakening consciences

I dedicated my entire love to it, and the biggest reward

Is to serve as a reference to those who think alike

To the one who tries to express himself and is never heard

It is looking at what is in front of me and seeing a sea of people

And dive deep into their hearts and minds

This is my diving, it is not Scrooge McDuck's

This is what I'm proud of, writting my own lines

I write in crooked lines, inspired by someone

Who gave me a mission that I have to fulfill successfully

I listen to hearts, like a cardiologist

I translate what they say, like any artist

Who gets their money, which is the result of their work

Grasshoppers and ants, I don't know how much I'm worth

But I know that, when I receive (my money), I share and multiply it

And the more I share it, the more rich I become

Rich of the true richness, which is free

Like a smile, which lightens the entire square

A thrilled smile of a experienced Sir,

standing under the scorching sun for two hours,

listening to my poems, in full tune.

I am him tomorrow, and today I'm all poetry.

1. Dream, in this case, is just like traveling in the imagination. Imaginating things, characters and whathever else.2. 'The Thinker One' is the translation for 'O pensador', he is known by 'Gabriel, O pensador' = 'Gabriel, The thinker one'.3. Gaúcho is the one who lives in the South of Brazil.4. Crack is a type of drug, I think it does exist in English.5. Some people smells glue, and say it is addicting. Oh well, I've never done it of course, so go figure!

• Artist:Gabriel o Pensador