The Iberian Poets
Saturday, November 21st, 8:00pm
St Paul’s Episcopal Church
Special guests:
Zsolt Eder -violin
Bruno Bessa - vocals
With members of Ensemble Ibérica:
Victoria Botero - soprano
Beau Bledsoe - guitars
Jordan Shipley - guitars
Michael McClintock - guitars
Victor Penniman - viola da gamba
Brandon Draper - percussion
The Iberian Poets features the great poets and composers from
Spain, Portugal, Brazil, Cuba and Argentina. The program will
highlight the poetic works of Miguel de Cervantes, Federico
García Lorca, Fernando Pessoa, Nicolás Guillén and Horacio
Ferrer paired with the musical masterworks of Manuel de Falla,
Heitor Villa-Lobos, Astor Piazzolla and Caetano Veloso. Many of
these artists were friends, collaborators and advocates of the popular music of their time. All poems and songs will be performed in
the original Spanish or Portuguese with projected English translations.
EnsembleIberica.org
St. Paul’s
Episcopal Church
Tres Morillas - Anonymous
Spain
Tres morillas Excerpt from La ilustre fregona
Zarabanda
Ojos pues me desdeñais Anonymous (15th century)
Miguel de Cervantes (1547 – 1616)
Gaspar Sanz (1640–1710)
Luis de Briceño (fl. 1610s-1630s)
José Marín (1619-1699)
Portugal
Há quanto tempo não canto
music: Francisco Viana (1895 – 1945)
poem: Fernando Pessoa (1888- 1935)
Brazil
Fado tropical
music: Chico Buarque (1944 - )
poem: Ruy Guerra (1931 - )
Eu sei que vou te amar
music: Antônio Carlos Jobim (1927 – 1994)
poem: Vinicius de Moraes (1913 – 1980)
Soneto de Fidelidade
poem: Vinicius de Moraes
Bachianas brasileiras No. 5
music: Villa-Lobos, Heitor (1887 - 1959)
poem: Ruth Valadares Corrêa (1845 - 1935)
________________________________
Cuba
Cocoito y lucumi
El negro mar
Drume negrita Pancho Amat (1950 - )
Nicolás Guillén (1902 – 1989)
Eliseo Grenet (1893 - 1950)
Spain
Asturiana
Manuel de Falla (1876 – 1946)
Moon monologue from Bodas de sangre
Federico García Lorca (1898- 1936)
Polo
Manuel de Falla
Argentina
Chiquilín de Bachín
music: Astor Piazzolla (1921 – 1992)
poem: Horacio Ferrer (1933 – 2014)
Balada para un loco
music: Astor Piazzolla
poem: Horacio Ferrer
Tres morillas me enamoran en Jaén,
Axa y Fátima y Marién.
Three Moorish girls caught my eye in Jaén:
Axa and Fátima and Marién.
Tres morillas tan garridas
iban a coger olivas,
y hallábanlas cogidas en Jaén,
Axa y Fátima y Marién.
Three fine-looking Moorish girls
went out to pluck olives from the tree
and got themselves plucked in Jaén:
Axa and Fátima and Marién.
Y hallábanlas cogidas,
y tornaban desmaídas
y las colores perdidas en Jaén,
Axa y Fátima y Marién.
And they got themselves plucked,
and returned in a faint,
and all their color lost in Jaén:
Axa and Fátima and Marién.
Díjeles: ¿Quién sois, señoras,
de mi vida robadoras?
Cristianas, que éramos moras en Jaén:
Aixa, Fátima y Marién.
I asked them, Who are you ladies,
Who have robbed me of my life?
We are Christians, who were once Moors
in Jaén,
Axa, Fátima and Marién.
From “La ilustre fregona” - Cervantes
Entren, pues, todas las ninfas
y los ninfos que han de entrar,
que el baile de la chacona
es más ancho que la mar.
Requieran las castañetas
y bájense a refregar
las manos por esa arena
o tierra del muladar.
Todos lo han hecho muy bien,
no tengo qué les rectar;
Enter, then, all the nymphs
and nymphets coming in,
The dance of the chaconne
is wider than the sea.
Require the castanets
bend down and rub your hands,
either in the sand
or in the muddy soil.
it has been well done by all,
I have nothing to rectify.
¡Qué de veces ha intentado
aquesta noble señora,
con la alegre zarabanda,
el pésame y perra mora,
entrarse por los resquicios
de las casas religiosas
a inquietar la honestidad
que en las santas celdas mora!
¡Cuántas fue vituperada
de los mismos que la adoran!
Porque imagina el lascivo
y al que es necio se le antoja,
El baile de la chacona
encierra la vida bona.
So many times has attempted
This noble lady,
With the cheerful Zarabanda,
Regretfully a Moorish bitch,
Entering through the cracks
of the religious houses
to trouble the honesty
dwelling in those holy cells!
How many have reviled
the same ones that love her!
Because the lewd one imagines
And the fool one craves,
The dance of the chaconne
surrounds the good life.
Zarabanda - Briceño
La zarabanda esta presa
De amores de un licenciado
El de ella fue enamorado
Mil veces la abraza y besa
Mas la muchacha traviesa
Le da camisa de Holanda
Ándalo zarabanda
Que el amor te lo manda!
The zarabanda is engaged
In love with a gentleman
he was in love with her
A thousand times he kissed
and hugged her
But the mischievous lass
gave him the runaround
Dance the zarabanda
Love demands it from you!
La zarabanda villera
Danza que es gran maravilla
Síguela toda la villa
Por de dentro y por de fuera
Deja la rabia allá afuera
Que puritita lo anda
Ándalo zarabanda
Que el amor te lo manda!
The village zarabanda
dances marvelously
the whole village follows her
from the inside and from the outside
Leave your anger aside
The clean and pure dance
Dance the zarabanda
Love demands it from you!
Há quanto tempo não canto - F. Pessoa
Há quanto tempo não canto
Na muda voz de sentir.
E tenho sofrido tanto
Que chorar fora sorrir.
For so long I haven’t sung
In the silent voice of my feeling.
And I have been suffering so much
That crying was smiling.
Há quanto tempo não sinto
De maneira a o descrever,
Nem em ritmos vivos minto
O que não quero dizer…
For so long I haven’t felt
In way to describe it,
Not even in lively rhythms I lie
What I do not want to say …
Há quanto tempo me fecho
À chave dentro de mim.
E é porque já não me queixo
Que as queixas não têm fim.
For so long I have closed myself
The key inside me.
And it is because I do not complain
That the complaints have no end.
Há tanto tempo assim duro
Sem vontade de falar!
Já estou amigo do escuro
Não quero o sol nem o ar.
For so long I have been quiet
Without the will to speak!
I am friends with the darkness
I do not want the sun nor the air.
Ojos pues me desdeñais - J. Marín
Ojos, pues me desdeñáis Ojos,
Eyes, you scorn me.
Fado Tropical - R. Guerra
no me miréis, no
miréis, miréis,
pues no quiero que logréis
el ver cómo me matáis.
el ver, el ver, el ver, el ver, el ver
cómo me matáis.
Do not look upon me,
as I do not want you to be able
to see how you are killing me.
Oh, musa do meu fado,
Oh, minha mãe gentil,
Te deixo consternado
No primeiro abril.
O muse of my fado,
O my gentle mother,
I leave you dismayed
Come next April.
Mas não sê tão ingrata,
Não esquece quem te amou.
E em tua densa mata,
Se perdeu e se encontrou.
But don’t be ungrateful,
Don’t forget who loved you.
And in the thicket of your forest
Lost and found himself.
Ai, esta terra ainda vai cumprir seu ideal,
Ainda vai tornar-se um imenso Portugal.
Oh, this land will still live up to its dream,
Will become an immense Portugal.
Sabe, no fundo eu sou um sentimental.
Todos nós herdamos no sangue lusitano
uma boa dose de lirismo
(além da sífilis, é claro).
Mesmo quando as minhas mãos estão
ocupadas em torturar, esganar, trucidar,
Meu coração fecha os olhos e sinceramente chora…
You know, deep inside I’m sentimental.
All of us carry a good dose of lyricism in
our Lusitanian blood
(apart from syphilis, of course).
Even as my hands are busy torturing,
strangling, slaughtering,
My heart closes its eyes and weeps…
Cese el ceño y el rigor,
ojos, mirad que es locura
arriesgar vuestra hermosura
por hacerme un disfavor,
Y si el mostraros severos
es no más que por matarme
podéis la pena excusarme
pues moriré de no veros,
Ojos, pues me desdeñáis,
Ojos, no me miréis,
pues no quiero que logréis
el ver cómo me matáis.
Cease the scowling and severity,
eyes, look -it is insanity to risk your beauty
to do me a disfavor,
if you do not set right the fear,
of the finery which you remove.
And if you are only being stern
in order to kill me,
you can excuse me the sorrow.
As I will die from not seeing you,
but if I may not, then pity me.
Eyes, you scorn me,
do not look upon me,
as I do not want you to be able
to see how you are killing me.
Com avencas na caatinga,
Alecrins no canavial,
Licores na moringa,
Um vinho tropical
E a linda mulata
Com rendas de Alentejo,
De quem numa bravata
Arrebato um beijo.
With ferns in the scrub,
Rosemary in the cane fields,
Moringa liqueurs,
Tropical wine,
And the pretty Creole girl
Adorned in Alentejo lace,
Of whom I manage, with great bravado,
To steal a kiss.
Ai, esta terra ainda vai cumprir seu ideal,
Ainda vai tornar-se um imenso Portugal.
This land will still live up to its dream,
Will become an immense Portugal.
Meu coração tem um sereno jeito
E as minhas mãos o golpe duro e presto,
De tal maneira que, depois de feito,
Desencontrado, eu mesmo me confesso.
Se trago as mãos distantes do meu peito
É que há distância entre intenção e gesto;
E se o meu coração nas mãos estreito,
Me assombra a súbita impressão de incesto.
Quando me encontro no calor da luta,
Ostento a agida empunhadora à proa,
Mas meu peito se desabotoa,
E se a sentença se anuncia bruta;
Mais que depressa a mão cega executa,
Pois que senão o coração perdoa.
My heart is all serene disposition,
Yet my hands are swift and hard,
So much so that once the feat has been accomplished,
I, bewildered, own up to it all.
Should my hands move away from my chest,
Then both gesture and intention grow apart;
Should I clasp my hands close to my heart,
I’m then astonished by an incestuous feeling.
When I find myself amidst the clamor of battle,
I wield the helm at the prow,
Yet my chest comes all undone;
Should the sentence come up harsh
Swifter than lightning my blind hand executes
Lest the heart pardon all too quickly.
Guitarras e sanfonas,
Jasmins, coqueiros, fontes,
Sardinhas, mandioca,
Num suave azulejo
E o rio Amazonas
Que corre Trás-os-montes
E numa pororoca
Deságua no Tejo.
Ai, esta terra ainda vai cumprir seu ideal,
Ainda vai tornar-se um Império Colonial.
Guitars and hurdy-gurdies,
Jasmine, coconut palms, springs,
Sardines and cassava
Over a delicate glazed tile,
And river Amazon
Flowing from Trás-os-montes
Draining into the Tagus
In a great roar of a pororoca!
Oh, this land will sure live up to its dream,
Will even become a colonial Empire.
Eu sei que vou te amar - V. Moraes
Eu sei que vou te amar
Por toda a minha vida eu vou te amar.
Em cada despedida eu vou te amar
Desesperadamente, eu sei que vou te amar.
I know that I will love you
for all my life, I will love you.
In every single farewell, I will love you
Desperately, I know that I will love you.
E cada verso meu será
Pra te dizer que eu sei que vou te amar
Por toda minha vida.
And every single line will serve to tell you
that I know that I will love you
for all my life.
Soneto de Fidelidade - V. Moraes
De tudo, ao meu amor serei atento
Antes, e com tal zelo, e sempre, e tanto
Que mesmo em face do maior encanto
Dele se encante mais meu pensamento.
Quero vivê-lo em cada vão momento
E em seu louvor hei de espalhar meu canto
E rir meu riso e derramar meu pranto
Ao seu pesar ou seu contentamento.
E assim, quando mais tarde me procure
Quem sabe a morte, angustia de quem vive
Quem sabe a solidão, fim de quem ama
Eu possa me dizer do amor (que tive):
Que não seja imortal, posto que é chama
Mas que seja infinito enquanto dure.
Eu sei que vou te amar - V. Moraes
Above all, to my love I’ll be attentive
First, and always with such ardor, so much
That even when confronted by this great
Enchantment my thoughts ascend to more
delight.
I want to live it through in each vain moment
And in its honor I must spread my song
And laugh with my delight and shed my tears
When she is sad or when she is contented.
And thus, when afterward comes looking for me
Who knows what death, anxiety of the living,
Who knows what loneliness, end of the loving
I could say to myself of the love (I had):
Let it not be immortal, since it is flame
But let it be infinite while it lasts.
Eu sei que vou chorar
A cada ausência tua eu vou chorar
Mas cada volta tua há de apagar
O que esta ausência tua me causou.
I know that I will cry
I will cry for every single time you leave me
But, each time you return shall erase
what your absence has caused me.
Eu sei que vou sofrer
a eterna desventura de viver
A espera de viver ao lado teu
Por toda a minha vida.
I know that I will suffer
the eternal misadventure which living is
the long wait to live beside you
for all my life.
Bachianas brasileiras, No.5 - R.V. Corrêa
Tarde uma nuvem rósea lenta e transparente.
Sobre o espaço, sonhadora e bela!
Surge no infinito a lua docemente,
Enfeitando a tarde, qual meiga donzela
Que se apresta e a linda sonhadoramente,
Em anseios d’alma para ficar bela
Grita ao céu e a terra toda a natureza!
Cala a passarada aos seus tristes queixumes
E reflete o mar toda a sua riqueza...
Suave a luz da lua desperta agora
A cruel saudade que ri e chora!
Tarde uma nuvem rósea lenta e transparente
Sobre o espaço, sonhadora e bela!
El negro mar -N. Guillén
Drume negrita - E. Grenet
Evening, a rosy, slow and transparent cloud
in the air, dreamy and beautiful!
A moon emerges sweetly from the infinite,
adorned by the evening, like a sweet maiden
who prepares and beautifies herself while
dreaming,
the longing of her soul to become beautiful
cries to heaven and earth, all nature!
Birds become silent to her sad moans
and the sea reflects all her treasures …
Soft light of the moon awakens
a cruel yearning that laughs and weeps!
Evening, a rosy, slow and transparent cloud
in the air, dreamy and beautiful!
La noche morada sueña
sobre el mar;
la voz de los pescadores
mojada en el mar;
sale la luna chorreando
del mar.
El negro mar.
The purple night dreams
over the sea;
voices of fishermen,
wet with the sea;
the moon makes its exit,
dripping all over the sea.
The black sea.
Por entre la noche un son,
desemboca en la bahía;
por entre la noche un son.
Throughout the night, a sound,
flows into the bay;
throughout the night, a sound.
Los barcos lo ven pasar,
por entre la noche un son,
encendiendo el agua fría.
Por entre la noche un son,
por entre la noche un son,
por entre la noche un son. . .
El negro mar.
The boats see it happen,
throughout the night, this sound,
igniting the chilly water.
Throughout the night, a sound,
Inside the night, this sound,
Across the night – a sound.
The black sea.
Ay, mi mulata de oro fino,
ay, mi mulata
de oro y plata,
con su amapola y su azahar,
al pie del mar hambriento y masculino,
al pie del mar.
Oh, my mulatto woman of fine, fine gold,
I sigh, oh my mixed woman who is like gold
and silver together,
with her red poppy and her orange blossom.
At the foot of the sea.
At the foot of the sea, the hungry,
masculine sea.
Drume negrita
Que yo va a comprar nueva cunita
Que tendrá capite’ y también ca’cabe’
Si tu drume yo te traigo un mamey muy
colorao
Si no drume yo te traigo un babalao!
Que da pau pau.
Sleep my little black baby
And I will buy for you a new baby crib
That should have a top cap and also a rattle
If you sleep I will bring you a very red mamey
If you don’t I will bring you a babalao
That will give you pau pau.
A la negrita se le salen
Los pies de la cunita
Y la negra Merce’ ya no sabe que hace’
Drume negrita
Que yo va a compra’ nueva cunita
Que tendrá capite’ y también ca’cabe’
Si tú drume yo te traigo un mamey muy
colorao’
Si no drume yo te traigo un babalao’
Que da pau pau.
The feet of the little black baby
Come out of her crib
And the black Merce’ doesn’t know what to do
Sleep my little black baby
And I will buy for you a new baby crib
That should have a top cap and also a rattle
If you sleep I will bring you a very red mamey
If you don’t I will bring you a babalao
That will give you pau pau.
Austuriana - M. Falla
Por ver si me consolaba,
Arrime a un pino verde,
Por ver si me consolaba.
Por verme llorar, lloraba.
Y el pino como era verde,
Por verme llorar, lloraba.
To see if it would console me
I drew near a green pine,
To see if it would console me
Seeing me weep, it wept;
And the pine, being green,
seeing me weep, wept.
From “Bodas de sangre” - Lorca
Cisne redondo en el río,
ojo de las catedrales,
alba fingida en las hojas
soy; ¡no podrán escaparse!
¿Quién se oculta? ¿Quién solloza
por la maleza del valle?
La luna deja un cuchillo
abandonado en el aire,
que siendo acecho de plomo
quiere ser dolor de sangre.
¡Dejadme entrar! ¡Vengo helada
por paredes y cristales!
White swan in the river,
the eye of cathedrals,
false dawn in the leaves,
am I. They cannot hide!
Who can escape? Who sobs
in the valley’s tangle?
The moon leaves a knife
behind in the air,
a lead-colored trap
that seeks blood’s cry.
Let me in! I come frozen
through walls and windows!
¡Abrid tejados y pechos
donde pueda calentarme!
¡Tengo frío! Mis cenizas
de soñolientos metales
buscan la cresta del fuego
por los montes y las calles.
Pero me lleva la nieve
sobre su espalda de jaspe,
y me anega, dura y fría,
el agua de los estanques.
Pues esta noche tendrán
mis mejillas roja sangre,
y los juncos agrupados
en los anchos pies del aire.
Open roofs and breasts
where I can be warmed!
I’m chilled! My ashes
of somnolent metals
seek the crown of the fire
among streets and mountains.
But I bring the snow
to their shoulders of jasper,
and I flood, cold and harsh,
the depths of the lakes.
But this night my cheeks
will be stained with red blood,
and the reeds clustered
in wide swathes of air.
¡No haya sombra ni emboscada.
que no puedan escaparse!
¡Que quiero entrar en un pecho
para poder calentarme!
¡Un corazón para mí!
¡Caliente!, que se derrame
por los montes de mi pecho;
dejadme entrar, ¡ay, dejadme! (A las ramas.)
I have no shadow,
nowhere they can hide!
Let me enter a breast
where I can be warmed!
A heart of my own!
Burning! Spilling itself
on the hills of my breast;
Let me come in! Oh, let me! (To the branches)
No quiero sombras. Mis rayos
han de entrar en todas partes,
y haya en los troncos oscuros
un rumor de claridades,
para que esta noche tengan
mis mejillas dulce sangre,
y los juncos agrupados
en los anchos pies del aire.
¿Quién se oculta? ¡Afuera digo!
¡No! ¡No podrán escaparse!
Yo haré lucir al caballo
una fiebre de diamante.
No shadow. My rays
must shine everywhere,
and in dark of the trees
spread a rumor of dawn,
so my cheeks this night
will be stained with red blood,
and the reeds clustered
in wide swathes of air.
Who’s that hiding! Speak out!
No! There’s no escape!
I’ll make the horse gleam
with a fever of diamond.
Polo - M. Falla
¡Ay! Guardo una, ¡Ay!
Guardo una, ¡Ay!
¡Guardo una pena en mi pecho,
¡Guardo una pena en mi pecho, ¡Ay!
Que a nadie se la diré!
Malhaya el amor, malhaya,
Malhaya el amor, malhaya,
¡Ay!
¡Y quien me lo dió a entender!
¡Ay!
Ay! I keep a... Ay!
I keep a... Ay!
I keep a sorrow in my breast,
I keep a sorrow in my breast, Ay!
that I will tell no one,
Love is wretched, wretched,
Love is wretched, wretched,
Ay!
And he that made me understand that!
Ay!
Chiquilín de Bachín - H. Ferrer
Por las noches, cara sucia
de angelito con bluyín,
vende rosas en las mesas
del boliche de Bachín;
si la luna brilla
sobre la parrilla,
come luna y pan de hollín...
At night, dirty faced
angel in blue jeans,
sells roses to the tables
of the bars of Bachín;
if the moon shines
over the grill,
he eats moonlight and bread with soot…
Cada día en su tristeza
que no quiere amanecer,
lo madruga un seis de enero
con la estrella del revés;
y tres reyes gatos
roban sus zapatos,
uno izquierdo y el otro... ¡también!
Every day in his sadness
that he doesn’t want to get up,
the sixth of January wakens him
with his star turned backwards;
and three kingly cats
steal his shoes,
a left shoe and the other …..as well!
Chiquilín
dame un ramo de voz
así salgo a vender
mis vergüenzas en flor...
Beleame con tres rosas
que duelan a cuenta
del hambre que no te entendí,
Chiquilín...
Little boy
give me a bouquet of voice
so I can go out and sell
my shame in flowers…
Shoot me with three roses
that hurt, on account of
hunger that I could not understand,
Little boy…
Cuando el sol pone a los pibes
delantales de aprender,
él aprende cuánto cero
le quedaba por saber;
y a su madre mira,
yira que te yira,
pero no la quiere ver...
When the sun makes the school kids
put aprons of learning on,
he learns how little
there is left to know.
And he looks at his mother,
hustling herself, just hustling,
but he doesn’t want to see her...
Cada aurora, en la basura
con un pan y un tallarín,
se fabrica un barrilete
para irse, y sigue aquí!
Es un hombre extraño
- niño de mil años que por dentro le enreda el piolín...
Each dawn, in the trash,
with a loaf of bread and some noodles,
he makes a kite
to get away, but he’s still here!
He’s a strange man,
child of a thousand years,
whose kite line is wound up inside...
Balada Para un Loco - H. Ferrer
Las tardecitas de Buenos Aires
tienen ese que se yo, viste?
Salis de tu casa por Arenales.
Lo de siempre: en la calle y en mi...
Cuando de repente, detras de un arbol,
se aparece él.
The afternoons in Buenos Aires have this...
well, you know?
You leave your house down Arenales Avenue.
The usual : on the street and in me...
Then suddenly, from behind a tree,
he shows up.
Mezcla rara de penultimo linyera
y de primer polizonte en el viaje a Venus:
medio melon en la cabeza,
las rayas de la camisa pintadas en la piel,
dos medias suelas clavadas en los pies
y una banderita de taxi libre levantada en cada
mano.
Rare mix of the next to last tramp
and the first stowaway on a trip to Venus:
a half melon on the head,
a striped shirt painted on the skin,
two leather soles nailed to the feet,
and a taxi-for-hire flag up in each hand.
¡Ja, ja! Parece que sólo yo lo veo.
Porque él pasa entre la gente,
y los maniquíes le guiñan;
los semáforos le dan tres luces celestes,
y las naranjas del frutero de la esquina
le tiran azahares.
Y así, medio bailando y medio volando,
se saca el melón, me saluda,
me regala una banderita, y me dice...
Ha ha! But only I can see him:
because he moves among the people
and the mannequins wink at him,
the traffic lights flash him three lights sky-blue
and the oranges at the corner grocery stand
cast their blossoms at him.
And that this way, half dancing, half flying,
He removes the melon to greet me.
He gives me a little flag and he tells me...
Ya se que estoy piantao, piantao, piantao...
No ves que va la Luna rodando por Callao;
que un corso de astronautas y
niños, con un vals,
me baila alrededor... Baila! Veni! Vola!
l know I’m crazy, crazy, crazy...
don’t you see the moon rolling through Callao;
a second line of astronauts and children
waltzing around me... Dance! Come! Fly!
Yo se que estoy piantao, piantao, piantao...
Yo miro a Buenos Aires del nido de un gorrion;
y a vos te vi tan triste... Veni! Vola! Senti!...
el loco berretin que tengo para vos:
I know I’m crazy, I’m crazy, I’m crazy...
I see Buenos Aires from a sparrow’s nest;
and I saw you so sad... Come! Fly! Feel!...
the crazy desire I have for you:
Loco! Loco! Loco!
Cuando anochezca en tu porteña soledad,
por la ribera de tu sabana vendre
con un poema y un trombon
a desvelarte el corazon.
Crazy! Crazy! Crazy!
As darkness sets in your porteña loneliness,
by the shores of your bedsheet I’ll come
with a poem and a trombone
to keep your heart sleepless.
Loco! Loco! Loco!
Como un acrobata demente saltare,
sobre el abismo de tu escote hasta sentir
que enloqueci tu corazon de libertad...
Ya vas a ver!
Crazy! Crazy! Crazy!
Like a demented acrobat I’ll dive,
into the abyss of your cleavage ‘till I feel
I drove your heart crazy with freedom.
You’ll see!
Salgamos a volar, querida mia;
subite a mi ilusion super-sport,
y vamos a correr por las cornisas
con una golondrina en el motor!
De Vieytes nos aplauden: “Viva! Viva!”,
los locos que inventaron el Amor;
y un angel y un soldado y una niña
nos dan un valsecito bailador.
And so saying, the crazy invites me
to ride on his super sport illusion,
and we’re going to run over the cornices
with a swallow in the engine.
From Vieytes they applaud: “Hooray! Hooray!”,
the nuts who invented Love,
and an angel, a soldier and a girl
give us a dancing waltz.
Nos sale a saludar la gente linda...
Y El loco, loco mío, ¡qué sé yo!,
provoca campanarios con su risa,
y al fin, me mira, y canta a media voz...
The beautiful people come out to say hello.
And the crazy, my crazy, I don’t know!;
he causes a stridency of bells with his laugh,
and finally, he looks at you, and sings softly...
Quereme asi, piantao, piantao, piantao...
Trepate a esa ternura de locos que hay en mi,
ponete esa peluca de alondras, y vola!
Vola conmigo ya! Veni, vola, veni!
Love me this way I am, crazy, crazy, crazy...
climb up into my insane tenderness,
don a wig of larks on your head and fly!
Fly with me now! Come! Fly! Come!
Quereme asi, piantao, piantao, piantao...
Abrite los amores que vamos a intentar
la magica locura total de revivir...
Veni, vola, veni! Trai-lai-lai-larara!
Love me the way I am, crazy, crazy, crazy...
open up your love, we are going to attempt
the crazy magic of reviving...
Come , fly , come! Trai-lai-lai-larara!
¡Viva! ¡Viva! ¡Viva!
¡Loco él y loca yo!
¡Locos! ¡Locos! ¡Locos!
¡Loco él y loca yo!
Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!
Crazy him and crazy me...
Crazy! Crazy! Crazy!
Crazy him and crazy me.
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