Резултати претраге

Želja

Samo tvoje srce vrelo,
i ne tražim ništa više.
 
Moj raj, je tiho polje
bez ptica
i bez lira,
sa jednom čudnom rekom
i jednim izvorom.
 
Bez daška vetra
na lišću,
izvezde koja želi
biti list.
 
Ogromno svetlo
je bio
svitac
iz drugog,
polja skitnica
izgubio se gledajući.
 
A tamo u tišini spokoja
naši su poljupci,
Meseca zvonki
eho,
otvara mi daljine.
 
Samo tvoje srce vrelo,
i ne tražim ništa više.
 

Ljubav spava u grudima pesnika

Nikad ti nećeš razumeti zašto te volim
 
zašto si zaspala i spavaš u meni.
 
Plačuči te skrivam, proganjan
 
glasom prodirućeg čelika.
 
Zakon isti koji stvori telo i zvezde
 
razdire mi bolne grudi
 
reči zajedljivosti izjedoše
 
krila tvoga duha ponosnoga.
 
Grupa ljudi skače vrtovima
 
očekajući tvoje telo i moju agoniju
 
na konjima svetle i zelene grive.
 
Ali nastavi spavati, ljubavi moja.
 
Čuj krv moju o violine razbitu!
 
Vidiš, još uvek nas progone!
 

Školjka

Doneli su mi na poklon jednu školjku
U njoj je pevalo
prostranstvo mora
i vodom moje srce preplavilo,
i ribicama
od sene i srebra.
Doneli su mi na poklon jednu školjku.
 

Zorongo

Imam oči plave, imam oči plave
I srce malecko, al’ k’o vatre plam.
 
Noću u dvorište izađem i sita se isplačem
Vidim koliko te volim, a ti mene ne voliš uopšte.
 
Ova ciganka jest luda, ali ludača te začara,
Jer ono što noću sanjaš, to ti se i se ostvari.
 
Ruke mog dragana
Ogrtač ti vezu
Sa bordurom od cveća
sa poniznošću roba vodenog.
Kad si dolazio dečko moj
U proljeće belo rascvetalo
Kopita tvoga konja ostaviše
Četiri jauka srebrena.
 
Mesec je izvor mali,
Cveće ništa ne vredi,
Koliko su vredne tvoje ruke
Kad me u noći grle.
Koliko su vredne tvoje ruke
Kad me u noći grle.
 

Pesma jahača

Crni konj, veliki mesec,
i masline u mojoj torbi.
 
Iako znam puteve
nikada neću stići u Cordobu. (bis)
 
Kordoba.
Daleka i usamljena. (bis)
 
Oh, kako je dug taj put!
Oh moj hrabri konjiću!
 
Oh, koja smrt me čeka
pre dolaska u Kordobu! (bis)
 
Kordoba.
Daleka i usamljena. (bis)
 

Song of the Dry Orange Tree

Cut down the shade, lumberjack
Spare me the torture
Of seeing myself without grapefruit
Why was I born between mirrors?
 
Cut down the shade, lumberjack
Spare me the torture
Of seeing myself without grapefruit
Why was I born between mirrors?
 
Day makes me think
And night imitates me
In all its stars
I want to live without seeing myself, lumberjack
I want to live
 
{Music}
 
And ants and fruit filaments
I’ll dream that they are my leaves
My leaves and my birds
Cut down the shade, lumberjack
Lumberjack
 

Deepness

The hundreds of lovers
that sleep forever
under the dry land.
Andalusia has
long, red roads.
Cordoba, has green olive trees
where to put hundreds of crosses,
to be remembered.
The hundreds of lovers
that sleep forever.
 

Bell

Versions: #1
In the tower,
yellow as sun,
over there, a bell tolls.
 
Through the wind,
yellow as sun,
there, the bell chimes release their sound.
 
In the tower,
yellow as sun,
there, the bell is silenced.
 
The wind, with the dust, creates
prows1, of silver and steel.
 

• 1. When I translated this several months ago, I had a hard time looking up this word, however according to spanishdict.com it means 'prows'

Clamor

In the yellow towers,
 
the bells toll.
Over the yellow winds
 
the chimes open.
 
On a road walks
the death, crowned,
with withered orange blossoms.
She sings and sings
a song
in her white vihuela
and she sings and sings and sings.
 
In the yellow towers
the bells die down.
 
The dusty wind
makes proras of silver.
 

Усамљен

Прекривен веловима црним
замишљам како је свет мален
а срце огромно.
 
Прекривен веловима црним.
 
Помислих на уздах нежни
и вапај, нестаде
у дашку ветра.
 
Прекривен веловима црним.
 
Остала је тераса отворена
свиће зора на њој
цело небо улази.
 
Ој јојојојој,
што сам прекривен веловима црним!
 

Elegy of silence

Silence, where are you taking
your fogged glass
of laughter, of words
and sobbing from the tree?
How do you clean, silence,
the dew of the song
and the sound spots
that the distant seas
leave on the sapwood
serene of your mantle?
Who closes your wounds
when on the fields
some old waterwheel
sticks its slow dart
in your immense glass?
Where do you go if at sunset
you are hurt by the bells
and break your backwater
the flocks of couplets
and the great golden rumor
that falls on the mountains
blue sobbing?
 
The winter air
it makes your blue pieces,
and cut down your flowers
the quiet mourning
from some cold source.
Where you lay your hands,
the thorn of laughter
or the hot axe
of the passion you find.
If you go to the stars,
the solemn buzz
of the blue birds
breaks the great balance
of your hidden skull.
 
Fleeing from the sound
you are sound itself,
spectrum of harmony,
smoke of screaming and singing.
You come to tell us
in the dark nights
the word infinite
breathless and without lips.
 
Star drilling
and mature music,
where do you take, silence,
your extrahuman pain,
pain of being captive
in the melodic spider,
blind now forever
your sacred spring?
 
Today they drag your waves
clouds of thought
the sound ash
and the pain of yesteryear.
The echoes of the screams
who are gone forever.
The remote rumble
of the sea, mummified.
 
If Jehovah has fallen asleep
climb to the shining throne,
break him in his head
an extinguished light,
and ends up seriously
with the eternal music,
sound harmony
of light, and in the meantime,
return to your source,
where in the eternal night,
before God and time,
you were quiet.
 

To a Girl's Ear

I did not want to.
 
I did not want to tell you anything.
 
In your eyes, I looked to see
 
two strange little trees
 
of gold, laughter and breeze.
 
They were swaying.
 
I did not want to.
 

Neverna žena

Povedoh je do reke
misleći da devojka je,
ali udata ona beše.
Tu bi, u noći Svetog Jaga,
skoro po dogovoru
fenjeri gasili se,
svici počeli da svetle.
Iza zadnjih gradskih kuća
dotakoh joj grudi snene,
i one se rascvetaše
kao zumbul grane nežne.
Šuštanje sam slušao
uštirkane suknje njene,
kao kad komad svile
deset oštrih kama seče.
Krošnje drveća bez sjaja
postajale su sve veće.
Vidik pasa lajao je
u daljini iznad reke.
I prođosmo kraj kupina,
trnja i trske zelene.
Ispod njene punđe na tlu
napravi se udubljenje.
Tad odvezah svoju mašnu,
ona skide vel sa sebe,
ja opasač s revolverom,
ona jeleke svilene.
Niti smilje nit puževi
nisu kože tako lepe,
ni kristali mesečevi
takvim sjajem ne trepere.
Noge njene bežahu mi
kao ribe uplašene,
dopola još uvek hladne
a otpola sasvim vrele.
Najlepšim sam od puteva
jezdio te noći cele,
na ždrebici sedefastoj
bez dizgina i opreme.
Sad ne mogu ponoviti
stvari koje ona reče,
da obazriv budem pamet
nalaže mi i poštenje.
Prljava od poljubaca
i od peska pođe s reke,
a na vetru ljiljani su
potezali sablje bele.
Kao pravi Ciganin sam
vladao se celo veče,
najzad sam joj poklonio
košaru od svile meke.
Ali u nju se ne zaljubih
jer udata ona beše,
a reče da devojka je
kad povedoh je do reke.
 

Sevillanas of the 18th century

Long live Seville! Long live Seville!
Long live Seville! The sevillanas carry on
in the Mantilla a signboard that says: Long live Seville!
Lon live Triana, long live the trianeros, those of Triana!
 
I bring it walking, I bring it walking,
I bring it walking: the macarena and everything
I bring it walking: the macarena and everything I bring it walking
I bring it walking: a face like yours I didn't find it
The macarena and everything I bring it walking
 
You look so good! You look so good!
You look so good! Wow, Seville river,
You look so good! Wow, Seville river, you look so good
You look so good! Full of ehite candles and green branches
Seville river, you look so good!
 

The unfaithful wife

Foolish me, that brought her to the river
thinking she was a maiden,
but she had a husband.
 
It was on Santiago's night 1
and almost out of a sense of duty.
The street lights went out
and the crickets lit up.
On the last corners
I touched her sleeping breasts,
and suddenly they opened up
like wreaths of hyacinths.
The starch of his slip
resounded in my ear
like a fine piece of silk
shredded by ten knives.
Without silvery light on their tops
the trees have grown,
and an horizon of dogs
barks far away from the river.
 
Past the blackberry shrubs,
the rushes and the hawthorns,
under his head of hair
I made a hole in the silt.
I took off my necktie,
and she took off her dress.
Me, the belt with the revolver,
her, her four bodices.
no tuberose or seashell
have so smooth a face,
nor the moon reflected on glass
shines with such a radiance.
Her thighs ran away from me
like surprised fishes,
half of them full of embers,
half of them full of cold.
That night I ran through
the best of paths
riding a mother-of-pearl mare
without bridles or stirrups.
Because I'm a gentleman, I won't repeat
the things that she told me.
The light of understanding
makes me prudent with my words.
Dirty with sand and kisses,
I took her away from the river.
The air was fighting against
the lilies' swords.
 
I behaved like what I am,
a gipsy through and through.
I gifted her a big sewing box
made of straw-like satin,
and I didn't want to fall in love
because, having a husband
she told me she was a maiden
as I carried her to the river.
 

• 1. The 25th of July, commemoration of Apostle Santiago

Ballad on a Day in July

The oxen carry
Sterling silver.
 
Where are you going, my girl,
Of sun and snow?
 
        I'm going to the daisies
 
       of the green meadow.
 
The meadow is far away
And he has fear.
 
To (the god) Airón and to the Shade
 
       My love does not fear.
 
Fear the sun, my child,
Of sun and snow.
 
He left my hair
 
       Forever.
 
Who are you, white girl?
Where do you come from?
 
I come from the loves
 
       And from the fountains.
 
The oxen carry
Sterling silver.
 
What are you wearing in your mouth
that lights you up?
 
The star of my lover
 
       Who lives and dies.
 
What are you wearing on your chest
So fine and light?
 
        The sword of my lover
 
       Who lives and dies.
 
What are you wearing in your eyes,
Black and solemn?
 
        My sad thought
 
       That always hurts.
 
Why are you wearing a cloak
of Black Death?
 
        Alas, I am the widow
 
       Sad and without assets!
 
       From the Earl of Laurel
 
       of the Laurels.
 
Who are you looking for here
If you want nobody?
 
I'm looking for the Count
of the Laurel's body
 
Are you looking for love,
Aleve wink?
You are looking for a love
I hope you find.
 
Stars of the sky
 
       They are my wants,
 
       Where will I find my lover
 
       Who lives and dies?
 
Is he dead in the water,
Snow girl,
Covered with nostalgia
And of carnations.
 
Oh! errant knight
 
       From the cypresses,
 
       My soul offers you
A moonlit night
 
       
Ah dreamy Isis,
Girl without honeys
The one in children's mouths
Your story pours.
 
I offer you my heart,
Dim heart,
Wounded by the eyes
of women.
 
        Galant knight,
 
       With God you stay.
I'm going to look for the count
 
       Of the Laurels ...
 
Goodbye my little maid,
Sleeping rose,
You go for love
And I to death.
 
The oxen carry
Sterling silver
 
My heart bleeds
like a fountain.
 

Dawn

My oppressed heart
Sits next to the dawn
The pain of its loves
And the dream of the distances
The light of the dawn brings
Seedbeds of nostalgias
And the sadness without eyes
Of the marrow of the soul.
The great tomb of the night
Its black veil rises
To conceal with the day
The immense starry summit.
 
What will I do about these fields
Picking nests and branches
Surrounded by dawn
And full of night in the soul!
What will I do if your eyes are
Dead to the clear light
And if my flesh will no longer feel
The heat of your gaze!
Why did I lose you forever
In that clear evening?
Today my chest is arid
Like a shut-off star.
 

Sevilja 18.og veka

Živela Sevilja! Živela Sevilja!
Živela Sevilja! Seviljana puna
Povorki u mantijama što kliču: Živela Sevilja !
Živela Trijana, živeli žitelji i stanovnici Trijane* !
Živele seviljaanke i seviljani !
 
Sve sam prošla, /svuda sam bila /.
Sve sam prošla: Marcarenu* svu,
Sve sam prošla: Marcarenu svu, sve sam prošla.
Sve sam prošla : Ali lice kao što je tvoje, nigde našla nisam.
Marcarenu celu, sve sam prošla.
 
Kako si lepa! Kako izgledaš lepo !
Kako si lepa! Ah reka u Sevilji ,
Kako si lepa! Ah ta reka u Sevilji, kako je lepa !
Kako si lepa! Puna si belih sveća i zelenih venčića,
Ah reka u Sevilji, kako je lepa!