Jaime Sabines - Los Amorosos versuri traducere în engleză
English
Translation The Lovers
The lovers unvoice themselves.
Love is the finest silence,
the most trembling, the most unbearable.
The lovers seek,
the lovers are the ones who abandon,
the ones who change, te ones who forget.
Their heart tells them that they will never find,
they don't find, they seach.
The lovers walk around like crazy,
because they are alone, alone, alone,
granting, giving themselves every time,
crying because they can't save love.
The are concerned about love. The lovers
live by the day, they can't do more, they don't know.
The are always leaving,
always, to somewhere.
They wait
They wait for nothing, but they wait.
They know that they will never find.
Love is the perpetual extension,
always the next step, another, another.
Lovers are the insatiable ones,
the ones that always —and that's good— must be alone.
The lovers are the hydra of the story.
They have snakes instead of arms.
The veins in their neck swell
also like snakes to suffocate them.
Lovers can't sleep
because if they do, the worms eat them.
In darkness they open their eyes
and fear falls on them.
They find scorpions under their sheet
and their bed floats as if on a lake.
Lovers are crazy, just crazy,
without God and without devil.
Lovers leave their caves
trembling, hungry,
to hunt ghosts.
They laugh at people who know everything,
at those who love in perpetuity, truly,
at those who believe in love
as a lamp of inexhaustible oil.
Lovers play to grab water,
to tatoo the smoke, to not leave.
They play the long, the sad game of love.
Nobody has to resign.
They say no one must resign.
The lovers are ashamed of all conformation.
Empty, but empty from one rib to the other,
death ferments behind their eyes,
and they walk, they cry until dawn
in which trains and roosters say goodbye painfully.
Sometimes they notice a scent o newborn dirt,
of women who sleep with the hand on their sex,
pleased,
of riverbeds of tender water and kitchens.
Lovers begin to sing between their lips
an unlearned song,
and they leave crying, crying,
the beautiful life.
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01.02.2025
Doctor Faust
Oh, Doctor Faust
Behind you, do you see all these years you've spent wasting your life?
It's time for you to let yourself live life
Oh, Doctor Faust
Diving like this into dead languages, that's not life
If you spend time with them, living languages will revive you
Oh, Doctor Faust
Science is a well where you drown yourself, if you want my opinion
Descend into the well of pleasure because that's life
Oh, Doctor Faust
Leave your Talmudic and astrologic studies behind
Instead, prepare a thesis on my anatomy
Oh, Doctor Faust
Throw your books away, forget Latin, smile at live
In my arms, you'll get to know love and life
Oh, Doctor Faust
I like your physique, leave physics behind, discover life
Looking together, in physical love, the meaning of life
Oh, Doctor Faust
Oh, Doctor Faust
I like your physique, leave physics behind, discover life
Looking together, in physical love, the meaning of life
01.02.2025
On board of the Aspasia
You traveled in pursuit of your destiny
To white but mournful Switzerland
Always in the deck in a chez-lung downstairs
by the familiar and saddest cause
Always restlessly your folks have been prowling around
But you, staring at the wings, were indifferent
You laughed bitterly at what they said because you felt
That you were travelling to the land of death
One night when we were passing through Stroboli
You said to some laughing man in a joking tone:
'How my sick body looks as it burns,
to the flaming top of the volcano!'
Then I saw you in Marcilia as you were lost
in the noise without turning back
And I who loved only the wet expanse,
I say I could love thee
01.02.2025
Gramophonomaniac
In room of miss Janka
winders and curtains tremble
Like in a fury there a gramophone plays
Because miss Janka is a gramophone maniac
From morning to morning constantly plays.
Syrena’s records are still brought by miss Janka,
She puts all of her money in it and continues to sing
And I play on gramophone
trali tralalla la, trali
tralalla la
In winter at home, in the summer on the balcony
trali tralalla la, gramophone plays
And nothing worries me,
I have Syrena’s records
When something annoys me - I play on the gramophone
Because when I play on the gramophone
then in gramophone I have my all concerns
Neighbours of miss Janka, their wives and lovers declared, not being able to sleep at night:
We have enough of miss Janka,
that gramophone maniac,
the police needs to know about it
But when the officer came, miss Janka says
What to do, man, understand I’m afraid to sleep alone
And when I play on the gramophone
trali tralalla la, trali
tralalla la
In winter at home, in the summer on the balcony
trali tralalla la, gramophone plays
And nothing worries me,
I have Syrena’s records
When something annoys me then I play on the gramophone
Because when I play on the gramophone
then in gramophone I have all of my concerns
As soon as the strict officer heard it himself and wanted to give advice to the poor maiden
He says to miss Janka, that gramophone maniac
„A pity, I will sleep here”
And since then every night from miss Janka’s room
The bas of officer makes the curtains tremble
And I play on gramophone
trali tralalla la, trali
tralalla la
In winter at home, in the summer on the balcony
trali tralalla la, gramophone plays
And nothing worries me,
I have Syrena’s records
When something annoys me - I play on the gramophone
Because when I play on the gramophone
then in gramophone I have my all concerns
singable
01.02.2025
At the End of the Park
When sunset
makes the sky grow pale,
from the window,
I look around me.
At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me
like one evening
a year ago.
I watch you from afar and
in your hand,
there's
hidden more than one caress.
At the end of the park, I see you
running towards me,
of course,
I know it.
It's only an impression,
a trick of my heart
that makes me see
all this.
Tenderness
is something that
grows deep
in the soul.
If I remember
and if only
I think about you:
At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me
like one evening
a year ago.
I watch you from afar and
in your hand,
there's
hidden more than one caress.
At the end of the park, I see you
running towards me
and this time,
I know it.
You're no longer an impression,
a trick of my heart,
I've found
you again.
(At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me
like one evening
a year ago.)
At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me
like one evening
a year ago.
At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me...