A keresés eredménye

Good hypnosis

This all is just a dream
Bad dream, delirious dream
Again, I'll go somewhere,
 
But I'll return about a thousand years later
In the form of a human, I'll stomp around
Every now and then I have to visit the underground
Good hypnosis
 
Once I met that leading star of a great tale
When I was being picturesque with him on Golgotha
A hundred years from that, a slave begged for a favour
In the Middle Ages, a dog begged: 'Don't drink anymore!'
As a churchman, I focused on threatening and booze
In a world war, I was thinking about a woman and stepped on a landmine
Yesterday, I turned to ash on a witch pyre
Today, I will scream in your travel radio
 
The truth is that I burned in fire too
I don't care about that. This is a good hypnosis!
 
(Chorus)
Life is a bottle on the table of circulation
And I rejoice even if I sense that half has been drunk
Life is a bottle on the table of circulation
Rejoice, friend - something from it has been granted to you too!
 
It's a deep hypnosis. It's a good hypnosis!
All this is just a dream, a bad dream, delirious dream,
Wet dream, Sleeping Beauty's dream, nightmare dream
Again, I'll go somewhere
But I will be back a little later
Or this all is just hopefulness
 
(Chorus)
 
It's a deep hypnosis. It's a good hypnosis!
 
(Chorus)
 
It's a deep hypnosis. It's a good hypnosis!
 

I Will Never Die

I will never die
 
In the middle of this road, On Which I've been running as If in a trance
I've stumbled and fallen, over and over again.
But even if the future I envisioned, Was no longer visible to me anymore
I didn't want to give up
 
I will never die
I will ever end
So Long as I can continue onward
I will never die
I will never end
Entrusting everything to the circulating sounds right now
I will never die
 
Be it the way out I finally arrived at after worrying on my own
Or the night I regained everything I've forgotten,
Likely at all times, Only you sang for me
I will never die
 
I'm shining, even as the era keeps on changing around me
For I want to advance with you a bit more into the future
 
I will never die
I will never end
So long I can continue onward
I will never die
I will never end
Entrusting everything to the circulating sounds right now
I will never die
I will never die
 

The Ride

At times I don’t grasp my roll around the world,
this measuring of land and road and sea

Burruyacú

On a dapple-grey horse with a good hoofprint
while wearing a red and blue poncho
I came to your hills, Burruyacú
to see a gaucha woman's eyes.
 
While the moon, tender lamp
gave its light above the fields
I went singing my little vidalas
on your sands, Burruyacú.
 
The times are leaving
like leaves in autumn leave, leave
but I carry you in my soul always
my beautiful home, my Tucumán.
 
To my little gaucha woman I gave my red and blue poncho as a souvenir
and one morning I left my home
and I bid you farewell, Burruyacú.
 
Maybe one day I will look for your shadow
and rest there under a cross
while the moon passes by while kissing
your chanarales, Burruyacú.
 
They are leaving...
 

Song of the spot of sunlight

I regret even the fact that I was born
There are feelings I didn't want to know about
And the flavor of coffee that you taught me
Constricts my chest painfully
 
And in the day I knew about the end of my life
The sound of gears becomes heavy
And reflected in the middle of a spot of sunlight
Is the proof that you lived
 
In my unimaginable suffering
The time that I found, I called it happiness
And the flavor of coffee that you taught me
Is etched into my heart
 
In the midst of this long time
 
Even now...
 
I, who understood the meaning of death
Decided to love all of this world
Everything, every single thing you taught me
Resounds with a 'thank you' in the middle of a spot of sunlight
 
And in the day I knew about the end of my life
The sound of gears becomes heavy
And reflected in the middle of a spot of sunlight
Is the proof that you lived
 

Yuppi du

Yuppi du yuppi du yuppi du
Yuppi du-i-du yuppi du
Yuppi du yuppi du yuppi du
Yuppi du-i-du yuppi du
 
A levegőben a szerelem illata
Mélyen behatol a szívembe
És a csillag újjászületett az égen
És meghalt aznap, mikor ő elment
 
Yuppi du yuppi du yuppi du
Yuppi du-i-du yuppi du
Yuppi du yuppi du yuppi du
Yuppi du-i-du yuppi du
 
Én érzem, az ezernyi szín dallamát
Mely átfesti a szerelem e pillanatát
Hallom a zenét amely a vízből árad
Amely a földnek mélyéből felszáll
 
Yuppi du yuppi du yuppi du
Yuppi du-i-du yuppi du
Yuppi du yuppi du yuppi du
Yuppi du-i-du yuppi du
 
Most előttem egy temető látható
Benne mélyen eltemetve a háború árnyai
És az égből egy hatalmas ünnep ami leszáll
Ahol a világ minden nemzete eggyé vál'
 
Yuppi du yuppi du yuppi du
Yuppi du-i-du yuppi du
Yuppi du yuppi du yuppi du
Yuppi du-i-du yuppi du
Aaah... - yuppi du - yuppi du yuppi du
 

The Forgotten One

I found this chacarera
It was mourning by the sand
Over a boy from Barrancas
Who'll never see the shrubs of jume 1 again
 
That's how a fellow countryman
From Salavina sang
Under a carob tree
One January afternoon
 
I'm leaving, I'm leaving now
On my way to Chilca Juliana
Oh my darling no one knows
What awaits me after today
 
Barrancas, oh cherished land,
I leave you this chacarera.
Beloved, don't be untrue 2
To the one heading out to the countryside
 
My sweetheart has left me
She's gone to Chilca Juliana
She took the horse with the sulky 3
The bass drum, and the demijohn
 
I wish I were a tree
Not too big and not too small
So that I could give a bit of shade
To those who are weary from travel
 
I'm leaving, I'm leaving now,
Beautiful land, 4 Salavina
Perhaps I will never be able
To gaze at your Salinas again
 
Barrancas, oh cherished land,
I leave you this chacarera
Beloved, don't be untrue
To the one heading out to the countryside
 

• 1. The jume is a shrub that grows on salty soil near shores.
• 2. ama koncaichu or ama concaichu is in Quechua language, ama is a negation and koncaichu derives from betrayal.
• 3. sulki - English spelling: sulky is a lightweight cart
• 4. ashpa sumaj is in Quechua also

The Red-coloured One

I am from Cerro Colorao,
where it doesn´t usually rain,
when nobody crosses the river,
when this has the caprice to grow.
 
In stones and moldejones*
big and small people work
hammering all day,
for others to become rich.
 
A monkey was singing,
And in a flat load,
And the mule was saying:
'Pucha, what a life!'
 
The fox took a chicken away from me,
and one afternoon I trailed it,
I saw that he was wearing espadrilles,
and they were number ten (size, I guess).
 
I gave water to a scribble,
that was about to dry,
and he has paid me with flowers,
that rejoice my loneliness.
 
I went to Tacoyaco,
and to buy a marchador*,
and I brought a skinny bayt,
very short and snorer.
 
Chacarera, chacarera,
from my red-coloured hill,
the boy who is dancing
I'm going to choose it as brother-in-law.
 
The fox took a chicken away from me,
and one afternoon I trailed it,
I saw that he was wearing espadrilles,
and they were number ten (size, I guess).
 

Little Creole Santiagueña

Little Creole Santiagueña
gorgeous brunette,
for you the changos sing
their Santiagueña vidalitas.
 
 
Little Creole Santiagueña:
black eyelashes,
flower of the chañarales,
in the Santiagueña mornings.
 
 
 
       Others shall praise
 
       the nice-looking of the city.
 
       Little woman of the field,
 
       in this afternoon I want to give you
 
       this beautiful little zamba
 
       like your eyes, Santiagueña.
 
 
When are you going to bring water
from the dam,
you sweeten with your singing
all the Santiagueña naps.
 
 
Little Creole Santiagueña
sweet brunette,
I feel when you kiss me
that sweetness that honey gives.
 

Leonard doesn't sing

Somewhere in the west there is a manor house
And it's mistress is yelling
oh she yells loudly
In a curve, she bangs her head on the floor
Says again and again 'Fucking Leonard!'
Nothing else really
 
Nearby there is a dance pavilion
and a wretched
some sort of drunk tank
In all of them i have sang
That is known by Police
and by many rich older ladies
 
Oh, but for i was given a personality of a slob
and the ladies had all the money
I didn't really have a choice but to sing
 
So i had ended up in the wastes
and the marks were
fit for the deed
But for evil i have never done a thing
if i ever sang a sentence
it was due to circumstances
 
When they put a sack over my head
and decorated it with rope
I didn't have a choice but to sing
 
Then i sang the bad old D
And so someone disappeared into the depths of the river
For all eternity
with their shoes made of cement
 
And now you hear the conscience scolding: You moron, is your neck tingling?
It would be for the best if Leonard never sings
 
Oh the lovely fatherland
has started to burn beneath my feet
Many mysterious men, many widowed women
overly bitter - >Something could happen
to your humble storyteller
something violent, irreversible
 
Oh, but for i was given a personality of a slob
and the ladies had all the money
I didn't really have a choice but to sing
 
When they put a sack over my head
and decorated it with rope
I didn't have a choice but to sing
 
So if you get us a four wheeler
I shall get us passports and ready everything else
And behind the borders
I promise i shall not sing
 
Then i will dance with you, even though it wouldn't
Be a beautiful sight, and i promise you:
I shall not sing a sentence, not about you at least
I shall not sing a tune, not about you, ever
I shall not sing a sentence, not about you at least
I shall not sing a tune, not about you, ever
 
Jon Of Finland

The Age-Old One

Where is my heart
That left chasing hope?
I am afraid that the night
May also leave me soulless
 
I am afraid that the night
May also leave me soulless
 
Where is the little dove
That was crying at dawn?
It went far away, leaving
Its tears on my chest.
 
It went far away, leaving
Its tears on my chest.
 
When one leaves one's home
And one starts up on the winding paths
The horse pulls forward
And one's soul pulls back
 
The horse pulls foward
And one's soul pulls back
 
I have a very old sadness,
It is useless to throw it out,
And because it's a long-lasting one,
I have named it the Age-Old One
 
Where are my hopes,
Where are my joys?
The Age-Old One is that kind sadness,
And it is my only company.
 
The Age-Old One is that kind sadness,
And it is my only company.
 
When one leaves one's home
And one starts up on the winding paths
The horse pulls forward
And one's soul pulls back
 
The horse pulls forward
And one's soul pulls back
 

Beloved land

A beautiful voice, who would have it!,
to sing to you all life long,
but my fate gave me this accent,
and that's how I feel you, beloved land.
But my fate gave me this accent,
and that's how I feel you, beloved land.
 
Like a pebble that falls,
my shadow, dream and wound roams.
I'm fierce, like your rough ground,
and that's how I sing to you, beloved land.
I'm fierce, like your rough ground,
and that's how I sing to you, beloved land.
 
I'll go by the hills,
jungles and plains, all my life,
bringing over coplas
to your hope, beloved land.
Bringing over coplas
to your hope, beloved land.
 
Warm zondas1 give me their fire,
wild pamperos2 give me their strength,
and in the silence of the ravines,
roams the shadow of my grandparents.
And in the silence of the ravines,
roams the shadow of my grandparents.
 
Moons saw me by these hills,
and in the nightfall plains
looking for the soul of your landscapes,
to sing to you, beloved land.
Looking for the soul of your landscapes,
to sing to you, beloved land.
 
I'll go by the hills,
jungles and plains, all my life,
bringing over coplas
to your hope, beloved land.
Bringing over coplas
to your hope, beloved land.
 

• 1. The Zonda is a hot dry wind on the north of Argentina
• 2. The Pampero is a cold strong wind on the south of Argentina

This translation by Diazepan Medina is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. It doesn't apply to the translations with a source.

The lost milonga

The milonga got lost
They can't find it
Some say they saw it
Near to San Nicolas.
 
Gorosito the herdsman
Southern of the Puan 1 side
Asserts that he saw it
By the shore of the sea.
 
And goes over there what says
Mr Gabino, the foreman
That he felt it very grumbling
There by the Paternal 2
 
The milonga got lost
They can't find it.
 
There's always who affirms
He heard it in a hallway
In the lips of a brunette
Decoration of loneliness.
 
The air of milonga
One doesn't lose it like that
While there's a guitar
Of Argentina or Uruguayan
 
Maybe it has changed a little
But is the same one,
Darkened in the pampa
Outdated in the city.
 
The milonga got lost
They can't find it.
 

• 1. a town in the province of Buenos Aires
• 2. A neighbourhood of Buenos Aires

This translation by Diazepan Medina is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. It doesn't apply to the translations with a source.