O gaúcho / Le cavalier des Pampas (José de Alencar)
Début composition (enjeu situé / description création)
Texte en français
José de Alencar, O gaúcho, 1870
Dans ce roman souvent laissé de côté dans la production romantique brésilienne, Manuel Canho a perdu son père, João Canho, un grand dompteur de chevaux, assassiné très tôt par un Uruguayen (Barreda). Par la suite, il s’est brouillé avec son beau-père, le négociant Loureiro, responsable involontaire de la mort de son père et qui a ensuite épousé la veuve (Francisca), avec qui il a eu une fille (Jacintinha). Manuel devient un homme solitaire, préférant la compagnie de ses chevaux à celle des humains. Après tout, « si l’homme est le roi de la création, le cheval lui sert de trône ». L’intrigue familiale s’entrelace avec une réflexion plus large sur la Révolution Farroupilha en cours au Rio Grande do Sul, ainsi que sur la condition et la valeur de la vie animale dans une société du Sud progressivement mercantilisée.
Source : Wikipédia
Contributeur : Luciano Brito
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Texte en anglais
José de Alencar, O gaúcho, 1870
In this novel, often overlooked in Brazilian Romantic literature, Manuel Canho lost his father, João Canho, a great horse tamer, who was murdered at an early age by a Uruguayan (Barreda). Later, he became estranged from his stepfather, the merchant Loureiro, who was unintentionally responsible for his father’s death and then married the widow (Francisca), with whom he had a daughter (Jacintinha). Manuel becomes a withdrawn man, preferring the company of his horses to that of humans. After all, « if man is the king of creation, the horse serves as his throne. » The family plot intertwines with a broader reflection on the ongoing Farroupilha Revolution in Rio Grande do Sul, as well as on the condition and value of animal life in a Southern society that was progressively becoming more market-driven.
Source : Wikipedia
Contributor : Luciano Brito
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Fin de composition (enjeu situé / description création)
Début composition (création)
Texte en version originale
Version originale
Original version
Nesse momento meteu a égua a cabeça pela porta. Dando com o gaúcho sentado, fitou nele os olhos, e começou a ornejar baixinho, como para chamar a atenção do companheiro. Acudiu-lhe Manuel erguendo-se.
Que alegria ao vê-lo aproximar-se! Que afagos trocados entre os dois amigos! A Morena alongava o pescoço, estendia o focinho para os longes da campina; e roçava a espádua pelo gaúcho, vergando faceiramente o ombro, como se o convidasse a montar e partir.
— Ainda não, Morena; coma e descanse primeiro, dizia Manuel, amimando-lhe o colo; há de ver o pequerrucho, mas a seu tempo!
Durante as doze horas de conhecimento que tinham, já conseguira o amansador fazer-se compreender perfeitamente da baia. Era a égua um inteligente animal; e depressa aprendera a linguagem pitoresca e simbólica inventada pelo gaúcho para suas relações sociais com a raça eqüina.
Puxando levemente a baia pela orelha, obrigou-a Manuel a pastar um trevo gordo e apetitoso que estofava as fendas de uma lapa. A Morena quis recalcitrar, mas cedeu submissa ao olhar imperioso do gaúcho.
Por uma terna solicitude sofreava Manuel os impulsos do amor materno, poupando as forças da égua, que na impaciência de ver o filho, e talvez salvá-lo, podia matar-se. Tão comum é essa sublime insensatez na criatura racional, que não pode admirar no bruto!
Voltando à palhoça, deu o gaúcho com o caçador que o observava da porta.
— Quer barganhar a égua? — Não! respondeu Manuel com rispidez. Esta proposta o desgostou.
— Dou-lhe em troca…
Volveu o homem o olhar à sua pessoa e o devolveu em torno, buscando um objeto que servisse para a barganha proposta: descobriu a alguns passos, meio enterrada, uma velha chilena de ferro, torta e desirmanada.
— Dou-lhe em troca esta chilena!… Não faça pouco. A sua de prata, ou de ouro que fosse, não valia tanto. Saiba que pertenceu ao famoso capitão Artigas, cavaleiro como nunca houve no mundo, nem há de haver.
Sorriu-se Manuel.
— Vale muito, nem digo o contrário. Mas a égua não me pertence.
— De quem é então?
— De ninguém. É livre.
— Está zombando?
— Dou-lhe minha palavra. É livre, tão livre como eu, disse o gaúcho com firmeza.
— Bem: neste caso, eu a tomarei para mim.
— Com que direito?
(José de Alencar, O gaúcho, 1870)
Texte en français
Traduction française
À ce moment-là, la jument passa la tête par la porte. Apercevant le gaúcho assis, elle posa les yeux sur lui et commença à hennir doucement, comme pour attirer l’attention de son compagnon. Manuel lui répondit en se levant.
Quelle joie de le voir s’approcher ! Quels élans d’affection échangés entre les deux amis ! Morena allongeait le cou, tendait son museau vers l’immensité de la plaine et frottait son épaule contre le gaúcho, inclinant gracieusement l’omoplate, comme pour l’inviter à monter et partir.
— Pas encore, Morena ; mange et repose-toi d’abord, disait Manuel en lui caressant l’encolure. Tu verras le petit, mais en temps voulu !
En seulement douze heures de connaissance, le dresseur avait déjà réussi à se faire parfaitement comprendre de la baie. C’était un animal intelligent, qui avait rapidement appris le langage pittoresque et symbolique inventé par le gaúcho pour ses relations sociales avec la race équine.
Tirant légèrement la baie par l’oreille, Manuel la força à brouter un trèfle épais et appétissant qui tapissait les fissures d’une roche. Morena voulut résister, mais elle céda docilement au regard impérieux du gaúcho.
Par une tendre sollicitude, Manuel réfrénait les élans de l’amour maternel, épargnant les forces de la jument qui, dans son impatience de voir son poulain, et peut-être de le sauver, aurait pu se tuer. Une folie sublime si commune chez l’être rationnel qu’il n’y avait pas lieu de s’en étonner chez la bête !
De retour à la cabane, le gaúcho trouva le chasseur qui l’observait depuis la porte.
— Tu veux marchander la jument ?
— Non ! répondit Manuel sèchement.
Cette proposition le contraria.
— Je te l’échange contre…
L’homme jeta un regard sur lui-même, puis autour de lui, cherchant un objet pour conclure le marché. Il aperçut, à quelques pas, à moitié enterré, un vieux mors chilien en fer, tordu et abîmé.
— Je te l’échange contre ce mors chilien ! Ne te moque pas. Le tien, fût-il en argent ou en or, ne vaudrait pas autant. Sache qu’il a appartenu au célèbre capitaine Artigas, un cavalier comme il n’y en a jamais eu, et comme il n’y en aura jamais.
Manuel esquissa un sourire.
— Il vaut beaucoup, je ne dis pas le contraire. Mais la jument ne m’appartient pas.
— À qui est-elle alors ?
— À personne. Elle est libre.
— Tu te moques de moi ?
— Je te donne ma parole. Elle est libre, aussi libre que moi, répondit fermement le gaúcho.
— Bien. Dans ce cas, je la prendrai pour moi.
— Avec quel droit ?
(Traduction par Luciano Brito pour l’Anthologie écopoétique située en ligne)
Texte en anglais
English translation
At that moment, the mare poked her head through the door. Seeing the gaúcho sitting, she fixed her eyes on him and began to neigh softly, as if calling for his attention. Manuel responded by standing up.
What joy to see him approach! What affection exchanged between the two friends! Morena stretched her neck, pointed her muzzle toward the vast plains, and rubbed her shoulder against the gaúcho, gracefully tilting her scapula, as if inviting him to mount and ride off.
— Not yet, Morena; eat and rest first, said Manuel, stroking her neck. You will see the little one, but in due time!
In just twelve hours of knowing each other, the horse tamer had already managed to make himself perfectly understood by the bay. She was an intelligent animal and had quickly learned the picturesque and symbolic language the gaúcho had invented for his social relations with the equine race.
Gently pulling the bay by the ear, Manuel made her graze on a thick and appetizing clover that filled the cracks of a rock. Morena wanted to resist, but she submissively yielded to the gaúcho’s commanding gaze.
With tender care, Manuel restrained the impulses of maternal love, sparing the mare’s strength. In her impatience to see her foal, and perhaps to save him, she might have ended up killing herself. Such sublime recklessness is so common in rational beings that one cannot find it surprising in a beast!
Returning to the hut, the gaúcho found the hunter watching him from the doorway.
— Do you want to trade the mare?
— No! Manuel replied curtly.
The proposal displeased him.
— I will trade you for…
The man glanced at himself, then around, looking for an object to barter. A few steps away, half-buried, he spotted an old, twisted, and broken Chilean bit made of iron.
— I will trade you this Chilean bit for her! Don’t scoff. Yours, even if it were silver or gold, wouldn’t be worth as much. Know that it once belonged to the famous Captain Artigas, a horseman like no other before or ever again.
Manuel smiled.
— It is worth a lot, I won’t deny it. But the mare does not belong to me.
— Then who does she belong to?
— No one. She is free.
— Are you joking?
— I give you my word. She is free, as free as I am, said the gaúcho firmly.
— Very well. In that case, I will take her for myself.
— By what right?
(Translation by Luciano Brito for Anthologie écopoétique située online)
Fin de composition (création)
