Mixed Media - 127cm x 95cm - PrintLamento no estar visitando sus blogs estos días. Estoy con mucho trabajo y bastante estresado. No sé si estoy haciendo las cosas bien o realmente muy mal. Pero aquí estoy. Les envío un gran saludo a todos y espero poder volver muy pronto a visitarlos! El tango no lo escribo en castellano porque está bastante claro en la voz de Julio Sosa! Si el tango no se reproduce solo, por favor presionen play!
english
Your Pale End (by Alfredo Francisco Roldán) sang by Julio Sosa.
(In case the tango doesn't play automatically, please press play!)
Your fair hair
fell among the flowers,
and in the blacks under
your eyes there was
the unmistakable
trail that spoke of
your disease.
Fatal,
the autumn, with
its tragic murmur of dried flowers,
it wrapped you and
the pain punished you.
It was all in vain after all,
your eyes shut and
your voice trailed off.
It rains...
the streets are empty,
coldness,
sorrow and loneliness,
the bells sound the dance
of the hours,
a newspaper boy
leaves with his Pregón (Argentinian Newspaper)
how sad the streets are!
how sad my room is!
how lonely stands our portrait
on the piano!
The white handkerchief
that hides in its lace
your pale end,
and that little cross
--my mother's gift--
they increase my pain...
don't you see?
that even the old backyard cries to hear
the bitter singing of my voice...
and my desolation...
because the honeysuckle (never blooming anymore)
waits for you along with me!
It rains...
the streets are empty,
coldness,
pain and loneliness,
the bells sound the dance
of the hours,
a newspaper boy
leaves with his Pregón,
how sad the streets are!
how sad my room is!
how lonely stands our portrait
on the piano!
(Much has been lost in the translation. I'm awfully sorry. I wanted to convey the gist of this particular tango, though. I also apologize for not dropping by your blogs these days... I've got a backlog of work to clear!) Cheers!
