--- "Redi S. de Siqueira" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
escreveu:
> Sauda��es, Jedis e Jedis...
> Perdi o meu arquivo que tinha a letra do coral de
> Duel of Fates. Algu�m
> pode me mandar?
> Thanxs!!


serve esse????
ta atachado.....

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   May the Force be with you...
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Duel of the Fates, do novo epis�dio da saga Star Wars, � mais uma obra-prima do 
"Maestro
Jedi" John Williams. Repons�vel por outros sucessos musicais no cinema, como Indiana 
Jones e
Tubar�o, Williams foi fundo na pesquisa antes de compor a trilha sonora do novo filme 
de George
Lucas.

A m�sica Duel of the Fates, que j� anda rolando na MTV em forma de videolcipe, possui 
um coral de
88 vozes. Para os curiosos: eles est�o cantando em S�nscrito.

Williams basesou-se num antigo poema celta chamado "CAD GODDEU" (A Batalha das 
�rvores). O
compositor aparentemente pegou uma das linhas do poema, e jogou com as palavras - 
assim sendo, a
"letra" de Duel of the Fates ficou assim:

                          Korah Matah Korah Rahtahmah
                          Korah Rahtamah Yoodhah Korah
                        Korah Syahdho Rahtahmah Daanyah
                              Korah Keelah Daanyah 
                          Nyohah Keelah Korah Rahtahmah
                          Syadho Keelah Korah Rahtahmah
                         Korah Daanyah Korah Rahtahmah
                         Korah Daanyah Korah Rahtahmah
                          Nyohah Keelah Korah Rahtahmah
                          Syadho Keelah Korah Rahtahmah
                                     Korah 
                          Korah Matah Korah Rahtahmah
                         Korah Daanyah Korah Rahtahmah
                          Nyohah Keelah Korah Rahtahmah
                          Syadho Keelah Korah Rahtahmah
                                     Korah 

A parte que Williams escolheu para fazer a m�sica significa:

"Sob a l�ngua est� uma batalha que muitos temem, e outra acontecendo, atr�s, na 
mente". Segundo f�s,
� uma alus�o �s v�rias batalhas que acontecem durante o filme, como a luta entre a 
Federa��o do
Com�rcio e o planeta Naboo, e a batalha entre os Jedi e o Sith.

Segue a tradu��o completa do poema para o Ingl�s:

 

     The tops of the beech tree have sprouted of late, are changed and renewed from
     their withered state. 

     When the beech prospers, though spells and litanies the oak tops entangle, there 
is
     hope for trees. 

     I have plundered the fern, through all secrets I spy, Old Math ap Mathonwy knew no
     more than I. 

     For with nine sorts of faculty God has gifted me, I am fruit of fruits gathered 
from
     nine sorts of tree - 

     Plum, quince, whortle, mulberry, respberry, pear, black cherry and white, with the
     sorb in me share. 

     From my seat at Fefynedd, a city that is strong, I watched the trees and green 
things
     hastening along. 

     Retreating from happiness they would fein be set in forms of the chief letters of 
the
     alphabet. 

     Wayfarers wandered, warriors were dismayed at renewal of conflicts such as
     Gwydion made; 

     Under the tongue root a fight most dread, and another raging, behind, in the 
head. 

     The alders in the front line began the affray. Willow and rowan-tree were tardy in
     array. 

     The holly, dark green, made a resolute stand; he is armed with many spear-points
     wounding the hand. 

     With foot-beat of the swift oak heaven and earth rung; "Stout Guardian of the
     Door", his name in every tongue. 

     Great was the gorse in battle, and the ivy at his prime; the hazel was arbiter 
and this
     charmed time. 

     Uncouth and savage was the fir, cruel the ash tree - turns not aside a 
foot-breadth,
     straight at the heart runs he. 

     The birch, though very noble, armed himself but late: a sign not of cowardice but 
of
     high estate. 

     The heath gave consolation to the toil-spent folk, the long-enduring poplars in 
battle
     much broke. 

     Some of them were cast away on the field of fight because of holes torn in them by
     the enemy's might. 

     Very wrathful was the vine whose henchmen are the elms; I exalt him mightily to
     rulers of realms. 

     Strong chieftains were the blackthorn with his ill fruit, the unbeloved whitethorn
     who wears the same suit. 

     The swift-pursuing reed, the broom with his brood, and the furse but ill-behaved
     until he is subdued. 

     The dower-scattering yew stood glum at the fight's fringe, with the elder slow to
     burn amid fires that singe. 

     And the blessed wild apple laughing in pride from the Gorchan of Maeldrew, by the
     rock side. 

     In shelter linger privet and woodbine, inexperienced in warefare, and the courtly
     pine. 

     But I, although slighted because I was not big, Fought, trees, in your array on 
the
     field of Goddeu Brig. 

Responder a