Jason Vieaux and Sasha Cooke Lyric Translation

SIETE CANCIONES POPULARES ESPAÑOLAS

Seven Spanish Folk Songs

 

Manuel de Falla

 

El paño Moruno

The Moorish Cloth

 

 

Al paño fino, en la tienda,

una mancha le cayó;

Por menos precio se vende,

Porque perdió su valor.

 

 

On the fine cloth in the store

a stain has fallen;

It sells at a lesser price,

because it has lost its value.

 

 

Seguidilla murciana

 

Cualquiera que el tejado

Tenga de vidrio,

No debe tirar piedras

Al del vecino.

Arrieros semos;

¡Puede que en el camino

Nos encontremos!

 

Por tu mucha inconstancia

Yo te comparo

Con peseta que corre

De mano en mano;

Que al fin se borra,

Y creyéndola falsa

¡Nadie la toma!

 

 

Who has a roof

of glass

should not throw stones

to their neighbor's (roof).

Let us be muleteers;

It could be that on the road

we will meet!

 

For your great inconstancy

I compare you

to a coin that runs

from hand to hand;

which finally blurs,

and, believing it false,

no one accepts!

 

Asturiana

 

Por ver si me consolaba,

Arrime a un pino verde,

Por ver si me consolaba.

 

Por verme llorar, lloraba.

Y el pino como era verde,

Por verme llorar, lloraba.

 

 

To see whether it would console me,

I drew near a green pine,

To see whether it would console me.

 

Seeing me weep, it wept;

And the pine, being green,

seeing me weep, wept.

 

Translation:  Claudia Landivar Cody, from www.lieder.net.  Reprinted by kind permission.

 

 

Jota

 

Dicen que no nos queremos

Porque no nos ven hablar;

A tu corazón y al mío

Se lo pueden preguntar.

 

Ya me despido de tí,

De tu casa y tu ventana,

Y aunque no quiera tu madre,

Adiós, niña, hasta mañana.

Aunque no quiera tu madre...

 

 

They say we don't love each other

because they never see us talking

But they only have to ask

both your heart and mine.

 

Now I bid you farewell

your house and your window too

and even ... your mother

Farewell, my sweetheart

until tomorrow.

 

Translation:  Anne Evans, from www.lieder.net.  Reprinted by kind permission.

 

 

Nana

 

Duérmete, niño, duerme,

Duerme, mi alma,

Duérmete, lucerito

De la mañana.

Nanita, nana,

Nanita, nana.

Duérmete, lucerito

De la mañana.

 

 

Go to sleep, Child, sleep,

Sleep, my soul,

Go to sleep, little star

Of the morning.

Lulla-lullaby,

Lulla-lullaby,

Sleep, little star

of the morning.

 

Translation:  Claudia Landivar Cody, from www.lieder.net. Reprinted by kind permission.

 

 

Canción

Song

 

Por traidores, tus ojos,

voy a enterrarlos;

No sabes lo que cuesta,

«Del aire»

Niña, el mirarlos.

«Madre a la orilla

Madre.»

 

Dicen que no me quieres,

Ya me has querido...

Váyase lo ganado,

«Del aire»

Por lo perdido,

«Madre a la orilla

Madre.»

 


Because your eyes are traitors

I will hide from them

You don't know how painful

it is to look at them.

"Mother, I feel worthless,

Mother."

 

They say they don't love me

and yet once

they did love me

"Love has been lost

in the air   

Mother, all is lost

It is lost,

Mother."

 

Translation:  Anne Evans, from www.lieder.net.  Reprinted by kind permission.

 

Polo

 

¡Ay!

Guardo una, ¡Ay!

Guardo una, ¡Ay!

¡Guardo una pena en mi pecho,

¡Guardo una pena en mi pecho,

¡Ay!

Que a nadie se la diré!

 

Malhaya el amor, malhaya,

Malhaya el amor, malhaya,

¡Ay!

¡Y quien me lo dió a entender!

¡Ay!

 

 

Ay!

I keep a... (Ay!)

I keep a... (Ay!)

I keep a sorrow in my breast,

I keep a sorrow in my breast

Ay!

that to no one will I tell.

 

Wretched be love, wretched,

Wretched be love, wretched,

Ay!

And he who gave me to understand it!

Ay!


Translation:  Claudia Landivar Cody, from www.lieder.net.  Reprinted by kind permisson.

 

 

Tonadillas en estilo antiguo

Tonadillas in the Old Style

 

Music:  Enrique Granados

Poems:  Fernando Periquet

 

El tra la la y el punteado

The tralala and the Picking

 

Es en balde, majo mío, que sigas hablando

porque hay cosas que contesto yo siempre cantando:

Tra la la...

Por más que preguntes tanto:

tra la la...

En mí no causas quebranto

ni yo he de salir de mi canto:

tra la la...

 

It is in vain, my boy, that you go on talking,

For there are things to which I ever answer in song.

Tra la la...

No matter how many times you ask:

Tra la la...

You cause me no grief

And I will not cease to sing.

tra la la...

 

 

El mirar de la maya

The Gaze of the Beloved

 

¿Por qué es en mis ojos

tan hondo el mirar

que a fin de cortar

desdenes y enojos

los suelo entornar?

¿Qué fuego dentro llevarán

que si acaso con calor

los clavo en mi amor

sonrojo me dan?

 

Por eso el chispero

a quien mi alma dí

al verse ante mí

me tira el sombrero

y díceme así:

"Mi Maja, no me mires más

que tus ojos rayos son

y ardiendo en pasión

la muerte me dan."

 

 

Because my eyes

hold such an intense gaze

in order to avoid

disdain and fighting

I tend to look away

What fire do they carry inside,

that with only a little passion,

when I look at my lover,

they cause me to blush?

 

That's why this fiery man

to whom I gave my soul

when standing in front of me

tosses a hat my way

and says to me:

"my love, do not look at me anymore

for your eyes are lightning

and burning in desire

they give me death."

 

 

 

El majo discreto

The Discreet Lover

 

Dicen que mi majo es feo.

Es posible que sí que lo sea,

que amor es deseo

que ciega y marea.

Ha tiempo que sé

que quien ama no ve.

 

Mas si no es mi majo un hombre

que por lindo descuelle y asombre,

en cambio es discreto

y guarda un secreto

que yo posé en él

sabiendo que es fiel.

 

¿Cuál es el secreto

que el majo guardó?

Sería indiscreto

contarlo yo.

No poco trabajo costara saber

secretos de un majo con una mujer.

Nació en Lavapiés.

¡Eh, ¡eh! ¡Es

un majo, un majo es!

 

 

Some say that my beloved is homely.

It is possible that he may be,

For love is desire

Which blinds and dizzies.

For long have I known

That loving is not seeing.

 

But if my beloved is not a man

Whose beauty turns heads and astonishes,

Then he is discreet

And the keeper of a secret

That I entrusted to him

Knowing that he is true.

 

What could this secret be

That my beloved is safeguarding?

It would be indiscreet

For me to reveal it.

It is no small feat to learn

The secrets between a man and a woman.

He was born in Lavapiés.

Uh-huh!

He is handsome, handsome is he!

 

Translation:  Pamela Narbona Jerez, from www.lieder.net.  Reprinted by kind permission.

 

 

 

Old American Songs

Aaron Copland

 

Simple Gifts

 

'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free

'tis the gift to come down where you ought to be

And when we find ourselves in the place just right

'Twill be in the valley of love and delight.

 

When true simplicity is gained

To bow and to bend we shan't be ashamed

To turn, turn will be our delight

'Till by turning, turning we come round right.

 

'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free

'tis the gift to come down where you ought to be

And when we find ourselves in the place just right

'Twill be in the valley of love and delight.

 

 


The Little Horses

 

Hush you bye,

Don't you cry,

Go to sleepy little baby.

When you wake,

You shall have,

All the pretty little horses.

Blacks and bays,

Dapples and grays,

Coach and six-a little horses.

Blacks and bays,

Dapples and grays,

Coach and six-a little horses.

Hush you bye,

Don't you cry,

Go to sleepy little baby.

When you wake,

You'll have sweet cake and

All the pretty little horses.

A brown and gray and a black and a bay and a

Coach and six-a little horses.

A black and a bay ad a brown and a gray and a

Coach and six-a little horses.

Hush you bye,

Don't you cry,

Oh you pretty little baby.

Go to sleepy little baby.

Oh you pretty little baby.

 

 

At the River

Robert Lowry

 

Shall we gather by the river,

Where bright angel's feet have trod,

With its crystal tide forever

Flowing by the throne of God?

 

Yes, we'll gather by the river,

The beautiful, the beautiful river,

Gather with the saints by the river

That flows by the throne of God.

 

Soon we'll reach the shining river,

Soon our pilgrimage will cease,

Soon our happy hearts will quiver

With the melody of peace.

 

Yes, we'll gather by the river,

The beautiful, the beautiful river,

Gather with the saints by the river

That flows by the throne of God.

 


Ching-a-Ring Chaw

 

Ching-a-ring-a ring ching ching,

Hoa dinga ding kum larkee,

Ching-a-ring-a ring ching ching,

Hoa ding kum larkee.

 

Brothers gather round,

Listen to this story,

'Bout the promised land,

An' the promised glory.

 

You don' need to fear,

If you have no money,

You don' need none there,

To buy you milk and honey.

 

There you'll ride in style,

Coach with four white horses,

There the evenin' meal,

Has one two three four courses.

 

Nights we all will dance

To the harp and fiiddle,

Waltz and jig and prance,

"Cast off down the middle!"

 

When the mornin' come,

All in grand and spendour,

Stand out in the sun,

And hear the holy thunder.

 

Brothers hear me out,

The promised land's a-comin'

Dance and sing and shout,

I hear them harps a strummin'.

 

 

Who am I? 

From Peter Pan

Music and Lyrics:  Leonard Bernstein

 

Funny, the thoughts I have at night.
So different than the thoughts I have by day.
The moment mama switches off the light,
A thousand different questions come my way,
And stay.

Who Am I?
Was it all planned in advance
Or was I just born by chance
In July?
Oh, who on earth am I?
Did I ever live before
As a mountain lion or
As a flow'r?
My friends only think of fun,
They're all such incurable tots.
Can I be the only one
Who thinks these mysterious thoughts?
Someday I'll die.
Will I ever live again
As a rooster or a hen
Or a lion in a den
Or a robin or a wren
Or a fly?
Oh, Who Am I?

My friends only think of fun,
They're all such incurable tots.
Can I be the only one 
Who thinks these mysterious thoughts?
Someday I'll die.
Will I ever live again
As a rooster or a hen
Or a lion in a den
Or a robin or a wren
Or a fly?
Oh, Who Am I?

 

Somewhere (Stephen Sondheim)

Music:  Leonard Bernstein

Lyrics:  Stephen Sondheim


There's a time for us,
Some day a time for us,
Time together with time to spare,
Time to look, time to care,
Some day!

There's a place for us,
A time and place for us.
Hold my hand and we're halfway there.
Hold my hand and I'll take you there
Somehow,
Some day,
Somewhere!

 

 

Conga!  (Wonderful Town)

Music:  Leonard Bernstein

Lyrics:  Betty Comden – Arthur Green

 

Now if I show you the Conga, then will you answer my questions?

Alright, alright, fair enough, fair enough. It's very simple. It goes like this.

123 kick, 123 kick, 123 kick, 123 kick

That's it. That's the Conga boys. Alright?

What do you think of the USA...NRA...TVA

What do you think of our Mother's Day?

What do you think of the Conga?

 

Yep, yep, that's the Conga alright. Very impressive boys, very impressive.

What do you think of our native Squaws...Charles G. Dawes...Morton laws

What's your opinion of Santa Claus?

What do think of the Conga?

 

C'mon guys! I need a little concentration here fellas.

Good Neighbors, Good neighbors,

remember our policy.

Good neighbors, I'll help you if you'll just help ME!

 

I think you had a little too much coffee this morning fellas.

Look, I'm just tryin' to do my job here.

Goodness! Look, no speaking Portuguese! Ich sprechen bist Deutsch!

What's your opinion of Harold Gene...Mitzie Green...Dizzie Dean

Who do you love on the silver screen?

What do you think of the Conga?

 

Don't play with that fellas. Look, I need that to do my job!

What do you think of our rhythm bands...monkey glands...hot dog stands

What do think of Strakousky's hands?

What do you think of the …

 

Good Neighbors, Good neighbors,

remember our policy.

Good neighbors, I'll help you if you'll just help ME! Help!

 

Yeah, yeah, Conga, whatever, whatever!

What's your opinion of women's clothes...Major Bowes...Steinbeck's prose

How do you feel about Broadway roles?

What do you think of the...

 

What do you think about rods and reels...mother seals...seasick pills

How do you feel about Helen Wills?

What do you think of the...

 

What do you think of our double malts...family vaults...epsom salts

Wouldn't you guys like to learn the waltz?

Nah, you just wanna...

Conga!

 

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