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La última curda / The last soak

 

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  #1  
Old June 12, 2010, 04:42 PM
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ookami ookami is offline
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La última curda / The last soak

Bueno, una traducción muy literal. No tengan piedad y matenla a correciones. Si alguno propone otra traducción, desde cero, me vendría muy bien para compararla con la mía(si se la puede llamar traducción). Al final está la canción

Well, a very literal translation. Please don't have mercy and kill her with corrections. If someone wants to make a translation from the scratch, for me it'll be an excellent thing because I'll be able to compare it with my "translation"(if I can name it that way). At the end of the post you are going to find the song. You can practice pronunciation if you sing it while you're listening to it.



Lastima, bandoneón,
mi corazón
tu ronca maldición maleva...
Tu lágrima de ron
me lleva
hacia el hondo bajo fondo
donde el barro se subleva.
¡Ya sé, no me digás! ¡Tenés razón!
La vida es una herida absurda,
y es todo tan fugaz
que es una curda, ¡nada más!
mi confesión.

Contame tu condena,
decime tu fracaso,
¿no ves la pena
que me ha herido?
Y hablame simplemente
de aquel amor ausente
tras un retazo del olvido.
¡Ya sé que me hace daño!
¡Yo sé que te lastimo
llorando mi sermón de vino!

Pero es el viejo amor
que tiembla, bandoneón,
y busca en un licor que aturda,
la curda que al final
termine la función
corriéndole un telón al corazón.
Un poco de recuerdo y sinsabor
gotea tu rezongo lerdo.
Marea tu licor y arrea
la tropilla de la zurda
al volcar la última curda.
Cerrame el ventanal
que arrastra el sol
su lento caracol de sueño,
¿no ves que vengo de un país
que está de olvido, siempre gris,
tras el alcohol?...
Hurt, bandoneón,
my heart
your hoarse coarse curse…
Your rum’s tear
takes me
towards the deep underworld
where the mud revolts.
I know, don’t tell me! You are right!
Life is an absurd wound,
and everything is so brief
that is a soak, nothing more!
my confesion.

Tell me your condemn,
say to me your failure,
don’t you see the sorrow
that has wounded me?
And just talk to me
about that absent love
after a remnant of oblivion.
I already know that it damages me!
I know that I hurt you
crying my sermon of wine!

But is the old love
that shivers, bandoneón,
and searchs in a liqueur that stuns,
the soak that at the end
will put a finish to the performance
drawing a backdrop to the heart.
A little bit of memory and displeasure
drips your clumsy grumble.
Your liqueur makes things dizzy and spurs
the troops of the heart
when the last soak is dumped.
Close for me the large window
that the sun drags
it’s slow snail of sleep,
don’t you see that I came from a country
that is from oblivion, always gray,
after the alcohol?...


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Please, don't hesitate to correct my English.
'Time is a sort of river of passing events, and strong is its current; no sooner is a thing brought to sight than it is swept by and another takes its place, and this too will be swept away.' M.A.

Last edited by ookami; June 12, 2010 at 11:24 PM.
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  #2  
Old June 13, 2010, 02:35 AM
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JPablo JPablo is offline
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Ookami, vi tu post antes, y escuché la canción varias veces, mientras terminaba un montón de otras cosas... Ahora mismo voy a "cerrar la tienda" (me voy al sobre, a dormir), pero la canción y la interpretación están geniales... No sé si podré darle un buen vistazo a tu traducción... pero veré a ver que puedo hacer mañana...
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  #3  
Old June 14, 2010, 02:37 PM
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poli poli is offline
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The Last Dance

You bandoneon, you break my heart,
You with your evil damned cry. Your
drunken tears take me down down to the dregs.
Yes I know you've taught me well: Life is agony it's just a crazy dance soon to
pass me by. But you've taught me a meaningless lesson and nothing more.
That's my confession.
Talk to me. Tell me your sins and failures. Can't you see you have torn
me apart? Sing to me about the tattered memories of love lost. Now I know you have scarred me, singing my torch song in this drunken tango of bitter wine.
But it's the ghost of old love that glitters and grows dim in my drunken reverie, bandoneon and it keeps calling me back 'til the final dance is done .
Meanwhile your mournful song brings me back to those painful memories that
intoxicates me waiting for me to go into my final dance. Close the
shade. The sun is no longer for me . I'm ready now for the final dance.
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Last edited by poli; June 14, 2010 at 09:11 PM.
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  #4  
Old June 14, 2010, 07:12 PM
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ookami ookami is offline
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Thanks poli! You've helped me a lot! Your post gives me many corrections and ideas. Later I'm going to post another version. Thanks again.
__________________
Please, don't hesitate to correct my English.
'Time is a sort of river of passing events, and strong is its current; no sooner is a thing brought to sight than it is swept by and another takes its place, and this too will be swept away.' M.A.
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  #5  
Old June 14, 2010, 09:08 PM
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poli poli is offline
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I have made some corrections to my interpretation. Now it makes more
sense--albeit morbid sense. I love tango music.
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