Monday, May 17, 2010

Born to be a Ballerina

Bailarina - Palavra Cantada

Pisar no chão com a ponta do pé
Tocar o céu com a palma da mão
Manter ereta a postura
Amolecer a cintura
Balé precisa de dedicação

O bê-a-bá é pas de bourrée
Depois vem o pas de deux, dois plier
Nasci pra ser bailarina
É só por a sapatilha
Já sinto bater o meu coração

Papai um dia me deu um conselho
Treinar sozinha na frente do espelho
Às vezes sonho que estou dando um salto
E caio bem no meio de um palco

Tocar o céu com a ponta do pé
Pisar no chão com a palma da mão
Com longos alongamentos
O corpo é um instrumento
Balé precisa de dedicação

English Translation: Ballerina

Stepping on the floor with the tips of my toes
Touching the sky with the palm of my hand
Maintain an upright posture
Soften the waist
Ballet needs dedication

Be-a-bah is pas de bourrée
Then comes the pas de deux, two plies
Born to be a ballerina
I only have to put on the slippers
Already I feel my heart beat

Daddy gave me some advice one day
Train alone in front of the mirror
Sometimes I dream I'm taking a leap
And I fall right in the middle of a stage

Touching the sky with the tip of my toes
Stepping on the floor with the palm of my hand
With long stretches
The body is an instrument
Ballet needs dedication

I imagine I felt the same as most new moms after they bring their sweet smelling bundle home from the hospital--scared and unsure what to do. But most of all wondering if the nurses sent home the wrong infant. Because my baby didn't cry at the hospital. And Georgia. Well she didn't stop crying. Naturally, I tried holding her in every position. I paced the living room with her in my arms. I sang. I breastfed (and breastfed and breastfed....). I inserted a pacifier. I put a warm compress on her little belly. I really did it all until my own tears streamed. One day I turned on the CD Palavra Cantada and danced with her. It worked. It was momentary but goose-bump inspiring. And we listened to this song. And I cried a bit more. Because it is beautiful. (I am also a bit sensitive to pre-pregnancy and post-pregnancy hormones.) The CD and swaying in front of the stereo became a part of our routine those first few months.

And we got through it, forgetting about ballerinas for a while. Until G and I started passing a ballet academy on our way to and from pre-school every day. The tutus stopped us in our tracks. Georgia, like all little girls, now seems to be in the "dreaming of ballerinas and pointing her toes" phase.

Tonight we listened to the music again and swirled in our PJ's. I think she remembers me struggling with her in my arms--my desperation, my love, and the tender music.

1 comment:

  1. no desperation, she only remembers all the love... miss you and the classes, bjos to you and G.