A keresés eredménye

Chamamé to Cuba

One day in January I took my canoe for a stroll
They told me to take care of yourself, and that with the storm I would be lost
But I'm a brave correntino1 on my payment and a delta connoisseur
 
I set off with the first sunset lights
 
When it was as dark as a wolf's mouth, I was going to go back
But the deceptive river pushed me to the seashore
And discouraged, seeing no more coast to distract
My stomach I began to count the stars and think
 
I was thinking about how little a man is worth when he's so alone
But I had an idea that at that moment made me react
I'll do a feat like Vito Dumas2 I'll be Marco Polo
And when I return to my payment all the guairas will want to kiss me
 
And after a few days of sailing
I was happy because I already believed Christopher Columbus
And I was sad when I saw another spot on the horizon
That wasn't a whale, but was land, damn it, how joyful
 
When I stepped to the ground and sniffed, if it was Corrientes3
And when I saw a peasant with a rifle, I asked him
If rancho La Cambicha4 was far away, he replied kindly:
'You are in Cuba, a socialist country, the land of Fidel'
 
I wanted to go back because of what I read in La Prensa5
But seeing Cubans work happy for the future
Today the land is everyone's, there are no illiterates and even a child thinks
That whoever comes to Cuba with a war can't leave
 
Because those rifles that yesterday aimed at the oppressed people
Are the ones that today defend in the hands of the people their revolution
Are the ones who include cops with two last names in my payment
Are the ones that we will have Moncho Raela, Jesusa and Ramón
 
And with my canoe and my chamamé6
I left Raúl Roa7 and had my eye on my payment again
And to the correntines I must be faithful to them, and here I end up
May the yankees die, long live Fidel!
 

• 1. a resident of Corrientes province in northeastern Argentina.
• 2. an argentine single-handed sailor, traveler, he set out on a single-handed circumnavigation of the Southern Ocean.
• 3. one of the provinces in the north-east of Argentina.
• 4. El Rancho'e La Cambicha is a well-known song of Argentine folklore, written by Mario Millán Medina, it was the first theme of the musical genre rasguido doble that had wide dissemination. The rancho de la Cambicha was located on the outskirts of the village in Goya within the province of Corrientes.
• 5. a daily newspaper in the city of Buenos Aires, Argentina, founded in 1869 by José Camilo Paz (a wealthy Argentine businessman and politician one of the representatives of the generation of the governing elite in Argentina from 1880 to 1916) and which was considered one of the ten most important newspapers in the world.
• 6. a genre of folk music from Northeastern Argentina and Argentine Mesopotamia
• 7. was a Cuban intellectual, politician and diplomat.

Words of love

She loved me so much,
I still love her.
Together, we went through
a closed door.
 
She, how can I say it,
was my whole world
when in the fireplace we only burnt
words of love.
 
Words of love, simple and sweet,
we didn't know any better, we were fifteen years old,
we hadn't had enough time to learn them,
we'd just woken up from a childish dream.
 
We had enough with three set phrases
we'd heard from old comedians
from love stories, poet's dreams,
we didn't know any better, we were fifteen years old.
 
Her, where may she be,
her, what may she be doing,
I lost her and I will never
find her again.
 
But when the night falls
I hear a distant song
old notes, old chords,
old words of love.
 
Words of love, simple and sweet,
we didn't know any better, we were fifteen years old,
we hadn't had enough time to learn them,
we'd just woken up from a childish dream.
 
We had enough with three set phrases
we'd heard from old comedians
from love stories, poet's dreams,
we didn't know any better, we were fifteen years old.
 

Green birdy

Green birdy, how don´t you want for me to cry
Green birdy, how am I not to cry
Ay, ay, ay, ay, with only one life is enough
green birdy, and they want to take it away from me
 
Green birdy, how don´t you want for me to cry
Green birdy, how am I not to cry
Ay, ay, ay, ay, if the grasshoppers they take away from me
green birdy, they attach them to me again
 
Green birdy, if the indian for more than he knows
Green birdy, he always says the less of him
Ay, ay, ay, ay give the spoon
green birdy, it's on the spoon hanger
 
Green birdy, yesterday you went to cut wood
green birdy, you passed by my orchard
Ay, ay, ay, ay, and everybody knew
green birdy, for your bad companion
 
Green birdy, What the indian can give you?
green birdy, as much as you love him
Ay, ay, ay, ay, a trap for crabs
green birdy, and that will be when it rains
 

Let Her Dance

It's not because I'm in your presence,
my darling boy,
but you are wrong, very wrong
 
It's ten o'clock
and the dance is hot
and people keep coming
and you won't
let her dance.
 
I would really like to be polite,
but I must say
that you are the worst.
I have never seen you like that,
and if you keep on being glum,
with that face of a husband,
the black girl is going to get tired of you.
 
Behind a sad man
there is always a happy woman.
And after that woman
there's always a thousand gentlemen.
That's why, for your own good,
erase her from your mind
or reconquer that woman.
 
I don't know whether you're glad,
my precious boy,
But nobody here
can stand you anymore.
It's 3 o'clock and the party is a blow out.
Let that black girl be happy,
let that black girl dance in peace.
 
Behind a sad man
there is always a happy woman
And after that woman
there's always a thousand gentlemen.
That's why, for your own good,
wipe her out of your mind
or reconquer that woman.
 
It's not because I'm in your presence
my precious boy,
but you are wrong, my son, very wrong.
 
It's 6 o'clock
and the party is a blowout,
let that black girl be happy,
let that black girl dance in peace.
Hold on to her, she's leaving you!
Let that black girl dance in peace!
 
Let that black girl dance in peace!
 
Dear friend, change that face,
I've never seen you like that.
Let that girl dance alone, by herself,
let her be happy.
No, no, no.
Don't torment her anymore, hey,
let her dance.
 
With that face of a husband
you look so bored,
Go over there!
Behind such a sad man
there is a happy woman.
Why is that?
Let her, let her, let her, let her,
let her dance in peace.
 
Behind a sad man
there's always a happy woman.
And after that woman
there are always a thousand gentlemen.
That's why, for your own good,
erase her from your mind
or reconquer that woman.
 
Win her over!