It was in April

Spanish

Era en abril

Sabes, hermano, lo triste que estoy?
Se me ha hecho vuelo de trinos y sangre la voz,
Se me ha hecho pedazos mi sueño mejor,
Se ha muerto mi niño, mi niño, hermano.

No pudó llenarse la boca de voz,
Apenas vacío el vientre de mi dulce amor.
Enorme y azul la vida se le dió y no pudó tomarla,
No pudó tomarla de tan pequeño.

Yo le había hecho una blanca canción
Del amor entre una nube y un pez volador;
Lo soñé corriendo, abrigado en sudor,
Las mejillas llenas, la mejillas llenas de sol y dulzor.

Era en abril el ritmo tibio de mi chiquito que danzaba,
Dentro del vientre un prado en flor era su lecho
Y el ombligo, y el ombligo, y el ombligo el sol...

No busques, hermano, el camino mejor,
Que ya tengo el alma muda de pedirle a Dios.
Que hacemos ahora, mi dulzura y yo,
Con dos pechos llenos, con dos pechos llenos de leche y dolor?

Era en abril el ritmo tibio de mi chiquito que danzaba,
Dentro del vientre un prado en flor era su lecho,
Y el ombligo, y el ombligo, y el ombligo el sol...
Estamos pensando, sería mejor el marcharnos tres,
El marcharnos tres... que quedarnos dos...

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English

It was in April

Do you know, brother, how sad I am?
The trills and blood have left my voice,
My best dream has been shattered,
He has died, my son, my son, brother.

He couldn't fill his mouth with a voice,
He barely left the womb of my sweet love.
An enormous and blue life was given him and he
couldnt' take it,
He couldn't take it, he was so small

I had composed a minim1for him
About love between a cloud and a flying fish;
I dreamed he was running, covered in sweat,
His cheeks full, cheeks full of sun and sweetness.

It was in April, the warm rhythm of my little boy that danced,
Inside the womb a flowering meadow was his bed
And the navel, and the navel, and the navel the sun...

Don't look, brother, for the best path,
My soul is now silent from asking God.
What do we do now, my sweetness and I,
With two breasts full, with two breasts full of milk and sorrow?

It was in April, the warm rhythm of my little boy that danced,
Inside the womb a flowering meadow was his bed
And the navel, and the navel, and the navel the sun...
We are thinking, it would be better the three of us go,
The three of us go...than for two to stay...

  • 1. a minim is music written in half note (blanca cancion)
Submitted by P. Freda on Fri, 28/09/2012 - 21:37
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