The secret of true love

Only listen to the words of "la vie en rose", sung by Josephine Baker, as in the old recorded version that follows... Some translation for those that do not understand some basic french:

Des yeux qui font baiser les miens| Eyes that make not to keep my sight
Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche | a laugh that gets lost in his mouth
Voila le portrait sans retouche | Here it is the picture without retouching
De l'homme auquel, j'appartiens | of the man to whom I belong
Quand il me prend dans ses bras | when he holds me in his arms
Il me parle tout bas | (when) he speaks to me low
Je vois la vie en rose | I see life in pink
Il me dit des mots d'amour | he tells me love words
Des mots de tous les jours | everyday words
Et ça me fait quelque chose | and that makes me shiver
Il est entré dans mon coeur | He came into my heart
Une part de bonheur | a piece of happiness
Dont je connais la cause | whose cause I know
C'est lui pour moi | He's mine and I'm his
Moi pour lui dans la vie | all the life long
Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie | He told me that, he swore it for life
Et, dès que je l'apercois | and since I saw him
Alors je sens en moi | I can feel inside me
Mon coeur qui bat | My heart beating
Des nuits d'amour à ne plus en finir | Nights of love without end
Un grand bonheur qui prend sa place | A great happiness has settled
Des enuis des chagrins, des phases | Thus, replacing boredom, sorrow, phases
Heureux, heureux a en mourir | happy immensely happy
Quand il me prend dans ses bras | when he holds me in his arms ...
Il me parle tout bas
Je vois la vie en rose
Il me dit des mots d'amour
Des mots de tous les jours
Et ça me fait quelque chose
Il est entré dans mon Coeur
Une part de bonheur
Dont je connais la cause
C'est toi pour moi
Moi pour toi dans la vie
Il me l'a dit, m'a juré pour la vie
Et, dès que je l'apercois
Alors je sens en moi
Mon coeur qui bat
Lalalala, lalalala La, la, la, la

Hopelessness

DESESPERANZA/ HOPELESSNESS

Nunca me iré de tu vida, | I'll never leave your life
ni tú de mi corazón, | neither do you from my heart
aunque por otros caminos nos | although the destiny that we care
lleve el destino que importa a los dos | will carry us through other ways
Te llevo dentro del alma como un tatuaje de sol | I keep you deep inside my soul like a sunburn tattoo
y entre mis venas palpita la llama | and within my veins beats
encendida de tu corazón | the lit flame of your heart.

En una noche callada te fuiste, no has vuelto
Mi vida entera te llama y anhela tus besos míos
Es que tú acaso no escuchas mi grito doliente,
la voz de mi alma que llora tu amor y te pide que vuelvas
con tus labios ardientes y tu alma encendida a volverme
la vida que un día te llevaste con mi corazón.

En una noche callada te fuiste, no has vuelto
Mi vida entera te llama y anhela tus besos míos...
Es que tú acaso no escuchas mi grito doliente,
la voz de mi alma que llora tu amor y te pide que vuelvas
con tus labios ardientes y tu alma encendida a volverme

Sung by the great Alfredo Sadel one of the best 20th century venezuelan singers
" " Viva Venezuela, coño!!!!

Land, only that ...

Tierra , tan sólo tierra para las heridas recientes | Land, only land for the recent wounds
... para el húmedo pensamiento | Land, only land for the wet thinking
... para el que huye de la Tierra | Land, only land for who runs away from Earth
... tierra desnuda y alegre | Land, only land naked and happy
... tierra que ya no se mueve | Land, only land that doesn't move no more
....tierra de noches inmensas | Land, only land of vast nights
No es la ceniza en vilo de las cosas quemadas | It is not the up in the air ashes of burnt things
Lo que yo vengo buscando es tierra | What I'm looking for is land
... tierra desnuda y alegre | Land, only land naked and happy
.... tierra que ya no se mueve | Land, only land that doesn't move no more
... de noches inmensas | Land, only land of vast nights
No es la ceniza en vilo de las cosas quemadas | It is not the up in the air ashes of burnt things
Lo que yo vengo buscando es tierra | What I'm looking for is land
Viento en el olivar, viento en la sierra | Wind in the olive grove, wind in the mountains


Sung by Marta Gómez, based on a poem of Federico García Lorca, and composed at the rhythm of Milonga Campera

Reflection:
Dry thinking, opposite to “wet thinking”; stability instead of immediacy of collapse; deep-rooted love opposed to romance; the proximity of our Mother Earth that will make vanish the thrill for traveling; what is permanent in opposition to fluctuant things…These kind of feelings is what I need to communicate someone to heal her lacerated soul.

Thus, by sowing that fragile, frightened, once extremely brilliant, mind in the land, can we expect any healing or improvement at the moment? The problem is that she doesn’t acknowledge this ground as her own Land. She only has memories of the sunny afternoons in a undefined territory of happiness, but she doesn’t remember to whom belonged this piece of land of why she was there once in the past.

I think there is no hope to settle things by now and the Promised Land must keep being inhabited by heavy drinker hamburger eaters for the time being.

Bewildered Love ("Amor Desvairado")

UM /ONE
Foi grande o meu amor / My love was big
Não sei o que me deu / I don't know what happened to me
Quem inventou fui eu / I was who invented it
Fiz de você o Sol / (I was) who made of you the Sun
Da noite primordial / Of the original night
E o mundo fora nós / and the world out of us
Se resumia a tédio e pó / was reduced to boredom and dust
Quando em você tudo se complicou / When everything got complicated in your (life)

DOIS /TWO
Se você quer amar / If you want love
Não basta um só amor / Only one love is not enough (for hapinness)
Não sei como explicar / I don't know how to explain it
Um só sempre é demais / Only one is always too much
Pra seres como nós/ for beings like us
Sujeitos a jogar / bound to play
As fichas todas de uma vez / the chips at once
Sem temer, naufragar / without being afraid of failure


Não há lugar pra lamúrias /There is no place to complaints
Essas não caem bem / those do not fit well (with our way of doing)
Não há lugar pra calunias / There is no place for defamation
Mas por que não / But, why not to re-invent ourselves?
Nos reinventar.


TRÊS / THREE
Eu quero tudo que há / I want everything (that there is to offer)
O mundo e seu amor / in the world and her love
Não quero ter que optar / I don't want have to choose
Quero poder partir / I want to be capable ew environmteof leaving
Quero poder ficar / I want to be capable of stay
Poder fantasiar / To be able to fantasize,
Sem nexo e em qualquer lugar / without any connection and in any place,
Com seu sexo junto ao mar.. / about her sex near the sea
"Três" sung by Adriana Calcanhotto

Yes, I created her love as the Sun of my life.
There wasn't but dust and boredom outside of our relationship
Yes, we created a new World only for us.
One unpolluted new environment where our talents flourished like peony-rose blossoms, but
we didn't believe in ourselves when we challenged God and His Commandments; we didn't dare to keep going to the end.
If we'd done we would have won, even against God's will.
We became practical, reasonable, thoughtful persons and then, we definitely lost ans we got expelled from Paradise.

Canaima

There was a book on one my father's library shelves entitled “Canaima” by Romulo Gallegos. I remember that, when I was a child, the name “canaima” made me frightened. I thought, at the time, that it could mean “caiman” (aligator) or some similar scaring animal. Of course, I never tried to open the book nor even read it by any means.
In fact, this book has never been read by anyone until now, I know that because some of its aged yellow pages are still stuck. My father, probably, bought the book as part of a series that he had been buying as the intellectual he wanted to be, but he didn't consider to spend any time reading it.
In the end, the book was there waiting me to read it for near 50 years. Finally, I started it this August, without much interest at the beginning. But, as I was reading, I could discover a lot of beautiful passages describing a region of Venezuela: the Orinoco mouths and the mining region of Guayana.

Look at this awesome description of the land of my heart: “Venezuela del descubrimiento y la colonización inconclusos”.
Or this one: “palmeras, temiches, caratas, moriches... el viento les peina la cabellera rubia y el turpial les prende la flor del trino... bosques. El árbol inmenso del tronco velludo de musgo, el tronco vestido de lianas florias. Cabimas, caracas, y tahamacas de resinas balsámicas, cura para las heridas del aborigen y lumbre para su churuata. La mora gigante del ramaje sombrío inclinado sobre al agua dormida del caño, el araguaney de la flor de oro, las rojas marías. El bosque tupido que trenza el bejuco … plantíos. Los conucos de los margariteños, las umbrosas haciendas del cacao, las jugosas tierras del bajo Orinoco enterneciendo con humedad de savias fecundas las manos del hombre de mar árido y la isla seca”.
The translation is quite difficult, since this text is stuffed with venezuelan words that I can understand now, but which I hadn't been able to comprehend when I was “only a Spaniard”,i.e., a simple man without any exposure to Latinamerican idioms. Nevertheles, I will try to provide some (inaccurate but truly) translation of these terms since it is a beautiful passage that should be grasped by anyone interested in excellent poetry, no matter what his/her mother language was: “palm trees, temiche-palm, soursop tree, moriche-palm … the wind combs their blonde hair and the “turpiara” bird (the national bird of Venezuela) pins the flower of his trill on these trees... forests. The huge tree of moss hairy trunk, which is dressed up with flortees. Xxx, yyy, zzz (names of trees) of balsamic gums, healing for aborigine wounds and fire for his “house” (made of straw, conic-shape and wide dimension). The gigantic mulberry tree of leaned branches upon the asleep water of the river drain, the “araguaney” (national tree of Venezuela) of golden flowers, the red flowers of Santa María tree. The dense forest that the flortee braids … field of crops. The small vegetable gardens of margaritans (people from Margarita Island), the shady cocoa estates, the juicy lands of low Orinoco that turns less harsh the dry seaman hands and the desert island”. …
The dead woman in Upata, Estado Bolívar, Venezuela (where novel's plot takes place)

Now, seriously, listen to this beautil music from Upata and pay attention to the passing girl ... am I seeing ghosts like Marcos Vargas, the main character in Canaima novel?

Venezuela spirit lives in this girl child ...

Sin palabras

"Without saying it this song will say your name,
without saying, your name will (always) be with me.
The eyes almost blind of my atonishment,
along the atonishment of losing you and not dying!"

Libertad Lamarque sings "Sin Palabras", tango by E.Santos-Discépolo.

There are wounds that cannot be healed, but their authors can be forgiven for what they did.
What is good, what is bad, these are concepts that change over time and depending on the circumstances.
There is only one thing that cannot be indulged ever: lying persistence.
Any hit, inflicted wound or treason could be forgiven if the true deeds were recognized; you cannot make up the past by thinking that you were entitled to do so because you were firstly disappointed by whom you have hurt.
Unfaithfulness does not compensate prior offenses but breeds more grief to human relationships.

This is what the tango “Sin palabras” is about.
These words are to say that I'm not going to punish you for what you did to me, but it is “god”(destiny, karma, your conscience or whatever it was...) which will finally reach you after all of this.
And, there is no doubt, there are tears that can prosecute like this and become a whip that opens up wounds of one history... they are tortures!, they are memories!
How much pain only one truly word would have saved if it had been said at the right moment; but we cannot ever admit that we were wrong, nor plainly forget any of the thought previous offenses to us.
That's how it is the stupid, arrogant and ruthless human nature.


"How Insensitive", bossa nova by Antonio Carlos Jobin. Sung by Judy Garland (1968).

You'll see all that can be made if we're two of us

Tu verras tout ce qu'on peut faire si on est deux

Give some chance to romantic love, my dear. Not all should be dark and miserable nowadays, or vulgarly grey, as Mariano Rajoy wants to become our lives!