Juan Pardo - A Charanga (English translation)

Galician

A Charanga

Po la veira do rio chegaba onda min
o ruído da charanga,
Eo seguilo bulir atopei o camiño
e tamén foi a charanga.
Xente que canta bailando e bebendo ribeiro
e unha mociña chorando baixo un castiñeiro.
Dime quen es ti rapaza do triste ollar,
eu son un camiñante perdido,
eu estou ferido, eu son, o teu amigo.
 
Contoume co seu ben por xamais voltaria
e tremando a sua voz o seu pranto seguia.
Eu falei de outro amor e de cousas belidas.
Ela non replicou e o seu pranto seguía,
bota as costiñas ó vento, ven comigo,
as túas mans nestas mans, xa tes un amigo.
Entre voltas e voltas naceu o sorriso,
entre xentes, tan boas,
entre bicos, entre risos,
entre voltas e máis voltas
se perdeu, de min
¿onde vai, onde vai?.
Teño saudade de ti, e a túa tenreza
naquela presa dunha charanga.
 
Cando me fui eu pasé baixo aquel castiñeiro,
aun la xente cantaba e bebía ribeiro,
me alejé del lugar por el mesmo camiño,
y la saudade chegaba an de min por el río..
Dime quen es ti rapaza do triste ollar,
eu son un camiñante perdido,
eu estou ferido, eu son, o teu amigo.
 
Submitted by Diazepan Medina on Mon, 17/04/2017 - 00:07
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English translation

The charanga

By the side of the river was reaching to me
the sound of the charanga,
and following it quick, I found the road
and also the charanga.
People singing, dancing and drinking ribeiro
and a young woman crying under a castiñeiro.
Tell me who you are sad-looking girl,
I'm a lost wanderer,
I'm wounded, I'm your friend.
 
She told me that her loved one would never return
and trembling her voice her crying continued.
I talked about another love and beautiful things.
She didn't answer and her crying continued,
cast your pains to the wind, come with me,
put your hands in these hands, now you have a friend
Among walks and walks her smile was born,
among so good people,
among kisses, among laughters,
Among walks and more walks
she got lost from me
Where do you go? Where do you go?
I'm yearning for you, and your tenderness
among the hurry of a charanga.
 
When I left I passed under that castiñeiro,
people were still singing and drinking ribeiro,
I got away of the place by the same road,
and the yearning was reaching to me by the river.
Tell me who you are sad-looking girl,
I'm a lost wanderer,
I'm wounded, I'm your friend.
 
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Submitted by Diazepan Medina on Mon, 17/04/2017 - 23:44
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