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Sad Song

I have a sad song in my heart
Cheerful, but not too much1 as sun as the sun appears
And I take my jacket
And a soul song
Yes, the verse needs changing, but...
 
It could work
Letting yourself go a bit
Playing with vigor
Further ahead, deep down in the heart
Without accelerating
Quietly
 
I have a sad song
In my heart
I'd have a lot to do
Dear friend Joe
You've fused
Yes, and I need to repair
Something that doesn't work
 
The motor needs to be redone but
It could leave again
Letting it burn
Pushing with vigor
Further ahead, deep down in the heart
Without accelerating
Quietly
 
I have a sad song
In my heart
In the evening as it gets dark
That just doesn't go down
To whom, to you, to whom I must tell it
If only you are here
The day rises, love, the night sets
...and we return
 

• 1. Also a reference to the tempo notation 'allegro non troppo' (Quickly but not too much)

Sadness Please Go Away

La la la la
La la la la laia la
La la la la laia la
La la la la ia la la
 
La la la la
La la la la laia la
La la la la laia la
La la la la ia la la
 
Sadness,
please go away
[there's so much of] You in my house
no, you will never enter
 
There are so many people who have to suffer
and who cry each day a little
though Astrud wishes to live and to sing
and should tell you no
 
La la la la
La la la la laia la
La la la la laia la
La la la la ia la la
 
. . . . . .
 
La la la la
La la la la laia la
La la la la laia la
La la la la ia la la
 
Sadness
please go away
don't have that craziness
of living with me
 
I'd like to paint my room in pink
as soon as I leave I will do so
to your place I've already invited hope
and at last I will live
 
La la la la
La la la la laia la
La la la la laia la
La la la la ia la la
 
La la la la
[fase out]
La la la la laia la...
 

Oh sad, sad was my soul.

Versions: #2
Oh sad, sad was my soul
Because, because of a woman
 
I did not console myself
Even though my heart has gone away
 
Even though my heart, even though my soul
Had fled far away from that woman
 
I did not console myself
Even though my heart has gone away
 
And my heart, my too sensitive heart
Said to my soul: Is it possible?
 
Is it possible? - was it -
This proud exile, this sad exile?
 
My soul said to my heart: Do I know
Myself what this trap wants from us
 
To be present although exiled
Even though gone so far
 
Oh sad, sad was my soul
Because, because of a woman
 
All of my work is dedicated to Ms Z. G., who is the real counterpart of Beatrice Portinari for me.

The sad boy

It's a sad boy
who knows what waiting means.
He's a forsaken kid,
a sad boy indeed.
And his tinker heart
knows no compromise1
 
Like all sad boys,
he makes things up, he rebels
to get himself noticed,
as if sadness,
this evil witch,
had cast him into the air.
 
And like all sad boys
he keeps drawing things
to find solace in them.
 
A shudder, a delight,
a moment, a shelter,
something to dream about.
 
I love this sad boy,
the way he seems to
apologize with each smile.
I love his capacity to believe,
how he knows how to marvel
at simply being alive.
 
I'm singing of a sad boy
who puts on airs
to avoid drowning.
Like all sad boys
he loves to act the though guy
and the king of the block.
 
And then this sad boy
came into my life.
He messed everything up.
 
My dreams and their sketches,
my memories, my own things2,
he took everything away.
 
It is for a sad boy
that I lay down my weapons
softly at his feet.
And for this sad boy
I'm willing to suffer,
I'm willing to shudder.
 
He's like a promise
He's like a racket
He's my castaway,
He's my only tenderness,
my love, my alarm,
my child, my sin.
 
Mmm mmm
Mmm mmm
 
He's like a promise
He's like a racket
He's my castaway,
He's my only tenderness,
my love, my alarm,
my prince and my sin.
 

• 1. lit. '[is to be] taken [whole] or not taken [at all]'. That's idiomatic for a non negociable offer
• 2. the word has a few different meanings, but this one seems the most likely to me

This translation does not claim to be of any particular value.
Glad if you liked it, sorry if you didn't.
You can reuse it as you please.
Glad if it's for knowledge or understanding, sorry if it's just for money or fame.

The gloomy one

Versions: #3
How gloomy was to say our goodbyes
just when our love was growing the most
the swallow then decided to fly
like foreboding the worst
 
How gloomy it all seems without you
the ocean turns away from the coast
the colors have become all gray hues
I am feeling alone
 
Who knows if I will see you again
who knows what kind of fate will I have
Without the starry blue of your air
Giving light to my path
I’ve chosen to devour my pain
Not taking neither pity or relief
the story of our love will remain for all eternity
 
How gloomy they all say that I am
that you are the motif of my talk
they haven’t realized that your love, your love
it’s what keeps me alive to this day, it’s what keeps me alive to this day
 
I’ve chosen to devour my pain, not taking neither pity or relief
the story of our love will remain for all eternity
How gloomy they all say that I am that you are the motif of my talk
they haven’t realized that your love your love
it’s what keeps me alive to this day, it’s what keeps me alive to this day, it’s what keeps me alive to this day
 

Tristana

She's so sad she could do anything,
for nothing, for everything.
She weeps softly as she dances around with the fools.
love has killed the words that move her.
Moving her.
She wants to be laid against your mouth1
 
She's so sad she pulls a face
in front of her mirror.
She embraces the passing shadow with a love at first sight2
and nothing will ever wipe the cowardly smudges
of the blood flowing from bodies that break apart.
 
So long Tristana,
your heart caught a cold.
So long Tristana,
God is giving up.
Let her go
Let her die.
Don't say it.
Tristana, it's me!
 
Sad fate, Tristana.
You know, believe me,
It goes by in a flash,
your life, just like that.
The most beautiful days end up in sorrow,
hatred.
Why do you have to pay with your veins?
 

• 1. that does not make a lot of sense in French either, just a gratuitous erotic image I guess
• 2. another pretty nonsensical line

This translation does not claim to be of any particular value.
Glad if you liked it, sorry if you didn't.
You can reuse it as you please.
Glad if it's for knowledge or understanding, sorry if it's just for money or fame.

Painful

Painful is to live in solitude
In misery due to an affection
Painful is to know that no one
May live under illusion
It will never give right, neither it will work
The dreamer has to awake
 
Your pretiness takes me to heaven*
That is too much for a poor/needy heart
That comes to a standstill to see you passing by
Merely to hurt me
Painful is to live in solitude
 

Sad Tropics

Versions: #2
We're told about Indians who suffer and are becoming scarce.
Aren't we themselves oppressed peoples?
No penis sheats, no curare,
but the same terror that forces us to back off.
 
Some used to set off in the morning and come back
in the evening, living off the land and false hopes.
On piddling hunting grounds,
you still own the right to be cynical
and to refuse to follow the crowd like donkeys1,
and not to go dancing like pieces of machinery
on the incense smokes of
on the incense smokes of sad tropics,
among apocalyptic flute sounds.
 
Some used to set off in the morning and come back
in the evening, hunters-gatherers clad in black.
Even though the forest is dying, rotting away,
this is not enough to be considered a challenge.
 
Some Atlantises again
Some Atlantises again are collapsing into the sea,
but all that dies one day is reborn one day.
We still own the right to sit there
in the din of great trees and saws,
not to ape others, to pretend,
not to go dancing like pieces of machinery
on the blue smokes of sad tropics,
on the blue smokes of sad tropics,
among apocalyptic flute sounds.
 
Naked Indian girls, ageless women
who will have turned into peat or folliage,
the day you wake up, the swamp
will be covered in steel up to the clouds.
 
And in front of precious marble pools
the Indian girls come to die and become scarce.
Aren't we themselves the rarest of Indians?
It might not be too late to save us.
 
Since we all have to meet our end someday, somewhere,
we will go into hinding in some pond,
in one of those lagoons spared by History,
where the sand is a home, and the wind is a tune,
in one of those sad tropics' lagoons
where the sand is a home, and the wind is a tune,
in one of those sad tropics' lagoons.
 
In one of those lagoons
where the sand is a home.
in one of those sad tropics' lagoons.
 
In one of those lagoons
In one of those lagoons
 

• 1. lit. 'like a goat', but the term used for a person implies stubbornness and stupidity

This translation does not claim to be of any particular value.
Glad if you liked it, sorry if you didn't.
You can reuse it as you please.
Glad if it's for knowledge or understanding, sorry if it's just for money or fame.

Goodbye, sorrow

I feel the soft breeze between my hands,
fireflies shine, shine
look at how they fly!
There's a new smile in my face today,
I can't help saying hi
to everyone who pass by.
 
When I know I won't find you again
tears, hours beside you
are part of the past, now.
 
And well, dry tears erase my pain
dreams I hid inside my heart
are an absurd concern,
that's why, I will welcome sorrow while smiling
like if it was an old friend from yesterday,
because I promised you this way...
 
Flower petals among my hair,
whisper to me:
why?, why?, is that goodbye so cruel?
I can't blame you for your departure,
life is this way, you see
no one decides what could have been.
 
Even though, today I'm drowning by your memories
my spirit wants to fight
doesn't want to cry.
 
Despite my heart brokes in a thousand pieces
by those pieces, happiness I felt one day,
with you, will escape.
 
If you look at me, you'll find out my words are sincere,
sorrow will help me survive
because I promised you this way...
 
And now, dry tears erase my pain
dreams I hid inside my heart
are an absurd concern,
that's why, I will welcome sorrow while smiling
like if it was an old friend from yesterday,
because I promised you this way...
 
Even when pain is drowning me,
I'll keep on fighting
I will never hide from solitude
because I promised you this way...
 
Just learning.

Sadness

It's cold, I'm home all alone,
my friends are far away...
 
Winter is a cruel scythe
that reminds me that yesteryear's dreams are rusted,
of acidic strawberries and birds made from cotton,
dreams of mornings made of honey and plums,
we must recover them...those dreams...
 
The window weaves the heavy rain,
a capricious flurry...
 
'There's no place for people like you in this world'
said the swindler of the employment office.
 
It's cold, I'm home all alone,
my friends are far away...
 
I curse each moment of the everyday comedy
that pushes us towards conformism,
it's a bad time for dignity
but can't remain hunched over,
sadness is a forbidden feeling
for people who try to make a living every day,
depression is a bourgeois luxury
incompatible with the working class...
 

• No utilicen mis traducciones sin crédito o permiso. — Don't use my translations without credit or permission.


• Tienen permiso de usar mis traducciones como base para hacer otras traducciones, pero solo en este sitio con crédito. — You have permission to use my translations as a base to make other translations, but only on this site and with credit.


• Terminology: lit. (literally), lat. (latin term), pr. (pronunciation).

Sadness

Sadness
please go away
so much you in my house
no, you will never enter
there are so many people
who need to suffer
and every day cry a bit
instead Ornella / Andrea
wants to live and sing
and she/he must tell you no
 
La La La La
 
Sadness
please go away
do not have the craze
to live with me
I would like to paint
of red
my room
just you walk away
I will do it
in your place
I have already invited hope
and finally I will live
 
La La La La
 
Thanks a lot for your attention!

Free to use my translations for personal and scientific purpose, for teaching a language, etc...No COMMERCIAL use.
And if you liked my job, I'll be happy if you mention me.

Hello Sadness

For as long as we've been together
You come every morning
To give me the first caress
Hello, sadness.
Friend who looks like me
You're the only mirror
In which I can contemplate my youth
Hello, sadness.
You know the secret of my pain
Because it was you who rocked it in its cradle.
 
And if I must remember
You come to put your hand on mine
And you never forget
For as long as we've been together
You're my only love
I'm too weak
To leave you
Hello, sadness
For as long as we've been together
You're my only love
And I'm too weak
To leave you
Hello, sadness.
 
i hope this translation was useful to you. use it wherever, i don't mind.
i write evocative translations rather than precise ones so this might not be 'word for word'.

The Road of Sorrows Part II

Fate through a bullet
If there`d be seven lives
The nights too long
You won`t forgive me (for them)
 
Leave me wiped
When you`ll know me
Undying only a verse
Absent among the living
 
I`m a jewelcrafter
I`m selling thousands of sorrows
I throw them towards the sky
Lead in arrows
 
Life in droplets
When it will dry out
A bird in free fall
I will throw
 
The nights were fretting
When the stars were falling
In my chest I was gathering
The sorrows were burning
 
Abandoned beaches
To rent (I want)
In late autumns
To drink from the rain (I want)
 
I have nothing left
Beneath the ribs nothing
The empty twinge in the chest
Hoarfrost in an envelope
 
The nights were fretting
When the stars were falling
In my chest I was gathering
The sorrows were burning
 

To the Sad One

There lies what once was: the stubborn sword
of the Saxon and its steel metric,
the seas and the islands of exile
of Laertes' son, the golden
moon of the Persian and the endless gardens
of philosophy and history,
the sepulchral gold of the memory
and in the shadow, the smell of the jasmines.
And none of it matters. The resigned
exercising of the verse doesn't save you
nor do the waters of the dream or the star
which forgets dawn in the razed night.
A single woman is your care,
she's just like the others, but she is herself.
 

The Year's Saddest Song

Dear, when our wine get bitter or lose its flavor
When my make-up gets smudged and the photos fade
Will you still heat me when there's not even heat left for me?
And when the cigarette dies off, will the ashes and the freshness have been worth it?
 
When our song plays, will you still remember the rhythm?
When the world hurts me, will you still want to ease my pain?
Your voice and your breath are my favorite noises
But when I forget to live, your eyes will still remind me of who I am
 
Will you still want to wake up with my touch and listening to my voice?
Will your life still mean anything if our life was all that was left for you?
When you get tired, my hug will still be your shelter
But when life ends, will you still want to go wherever I go?
 
Will you still smile when I'm your only reason?
Will you still hear what I say even when I only want to talk about love?
Will you still try to understand me when I no longer make sense?
And will you still be with me after you see my worst side?
 
Translation done by Alma Barroca. In case you want to reprint it, please ask for permission first and always cite my name as its author. /
Tradução feita por Alma Barroca. Caso você queira reutilizá-la, por favor peça por permissão antes e sempre cite meu nome como o do autor.

Gloomy Evening

Barbarically that woman sang
In that deserted cafe, late,
Barbarically, but full of sorrow -
And such an upset all about ...
And in the music's monstrous row
Barbarically that woman sang.
 
Barbarically that woman sang ...
And there we were, in such a gloom -
Through cigarette-smoke, as through clouds,
Pondering non-existent worlds ...
And with a long, satanic boom,
Barbarically that woman sang.
 
Barbarically that woman sang,
And such an upset all about ...
And we never even made it home,
Foreheads on tables, crying out,
While over us, in the deserted room -
Barbarically that woman sang ...
 

Cum este trista Venetia

Cum este trista Venetia
Doar dupa un an
cum e trista Venetia
daca nu se mai iubeste
 
Se cauta cuvinte
pe care nimeni nu le va spune
si daca ar vrea sa planga
nu mai poate.
 
Cum este trista Venetia
daca in barca este
doar un gondolier
care priveste spre tine.
 
Si nu-ti cere nimic
pentru ca in ochii tai
si in mintea ta
este doar ea.
 
Cum este trista Venetia
doar dupa un an
cum este trista Venetia
daca nu se mai iubeste.
 
Muzeele si bisericile
se deschid pentru noi
dar ele nu stiu
ca acum tu nu esti.
 
Cum e trista Venetia
seara aceasta laguna
daca se cauta o mana
care nu se mai gaseste.
 
se ironizeaza
in fata acelei luni
care intr-o zi te-a vazut a mea
si nu te mai vede.
 
Adio pescarusi in zbor
pe care i-ai salutat intr-o zi
doua puncte negre la sol
adio si de la ea.
 
Foarte trista Venetia
doar dupa un an
foarte trista Venetia
daca nu se mai iubeste.