The Little Bird

Ever since, at the age of six, I was force-fed the full contents of a tin of Portuguese Sardines in Spicy Tomato Sauce by my dear late mother, I developed a keen interest in the people who invented the aforementioned delicacy - and actually ate it.

I have a vivid recollection of the scene, Mother and myself sitting face to face, she holding the tin with her left hand and a spoon with her right, me holding myself quite well, considering.

In between spoonfuls of the slushy red pulp (which Mother persuaded me to wash down with big gulps of lukewarm buttered milk drank off a large mug), she was telling me about the Portuguese, their conquests and discoveries, and how the sailors kept their remaining teeth immaculately clean by picking them with dried codfish fish-bones. I can still hear her lovely, kind voice ("-C'mon, dear. Eat it all, or else.").

Mother died in her sleep that same night (rumors that an oval piece of tin with ragged edges was found stuck deep in her throat are to be disregarded).

Anyway, my life was never the same again and my ever-growing interest in all things Portuguese led me to try and learn the local language. I am proud to say that my efforts paid off and I have already attained a fair level of proficiency understanding written text.

In my exploratory endeavours I came across a little poetic gem which I will attempt to translate so that you may fully appreciate the beauty of this fine example of Portuguese literary art:

Minha mãe, casai-me cedo,
Que me morde a passarinha.
Ó filha, coça-a com o dedo,
Que eu também coçava a minha.

Sounds beautiful and musical, doesn't it? But read on - the best is still to come.
Let's now analyse the poem verse by verse:

"Minha mãe, casai-me cedo," - [O mother, marry me soon]
Portuguese tradition makes it de rigeur that marriages be arranged by the parents, so here we have a girl respectfully asking her mother to marry her off soon. I find this acceptance of tradition by the Portuguese young quite endearing.

"Que me morde a passarinha."- [Because the little bird is biting me]
This is most intriguing: the girl is offering as the reason for her request the fact that a little bird is biting her! We know the bird is a little one, because of the use of the diminutive form - the suffix inha - and we also know it's a female, because the word ends with an a. But none of this helps understand how marrying soon could do anything about an aggressive bird!
Unless - but of course! - unless she is eager to get married so that her husband will protect her against the little bird!

"Ó filha, coça-a com o dedo," - [O daughter, scratch it with your finger]
Ah! The beauty of it! The mother is offering advice based, no doubt, on the wisdom afforded her by her own experience - she knows, somehow, that the little bird will calm down if scratched! It's a known fact that some animals, like the fruit fly and the rhinoceros, react quite favorably to a measure of scratching. Of course, with the rhino, you should use a rake.

"Que eu também coçava a minha." - [As I used to do to mine.]
There you are! That absolutely confirms it: she knew! And she knew because in her own youth she had experienced a similar problem and found a way to deal with it!

Lovely. Absolutely charming! Next week, I propose to go through another delightful piece of Portuguese poetry that caught my attention recently, which starts with "Lá em cima está o tiroliroliro". I feel sure that you, like myself, will fully enjoy this enticing little poem that talks about music, street corners and life's own ups and downs!