Sometimes there is a voice that rises
Higher than the world and higher than us
And makes my eyes weep, when it sings
In the tears that silence my voice
It plunges my senses and time
To the farthest point of who I am
And embraces that place, so gray
That lurks beneath the mist there
And calls out in my breast when I feel
The nearness of a sad face, of a love
Higher than the world and higher than people
The voice is not a voice, it is called pain
Original:
Às vezes há una voz que se levanta
Mais alta do que o Mundo e do que nós
E faz chover-me os olhos, quando canta
Num pranto que emudece a minha voz
Afunda-me os sentidos e o tempo
Ao ponto mais distante do que sou
E abraça aquele lugar que, tão cinzento,
Se esconde sob a névoa que ficou
E grita-mo no peito quando sente
Chegar a face triste de um amor
Mais alta do que o mundo e do que a gente
A voz já não é voz chama-se dor.
Lyrics and Translation from lyricstranslate.com
Hunger gives pleasure, not fresh sweetmeats
hunger makes barley bread better than sugar. . . .
Pain renews old medicines and lops off
the branch of every indifference.
Pains are an alchemy that renews—
who can be bored when pain appears?
Beware, do not sigh coldly in boredom—
seek pain, seek pain, pain, pain!
-Rūmī
(Mathnawi 6:4403-4304)
Love is the cure, for your pain
will keep giving birth to more pain
until your eyes constantly exhale love
White doves
Flying high
Scratching the shadows
Of the large clouds
There they go
Doves that do not return
They bring within
Their wings
In rosy beaks
Scattered clouds
On the sea
Doves of my singing
Merely singing
Various recollections
Coming on the paths
Nobody knows
Where they go
The Doves that do not return
Original:
Pombas brancas
Que voam altas
Riscando as sombras
Das nuvens largas
Lá vão
Pombas que não voltam
Trazem dentro
Das asas prendas
Nas bicos rosas
Nuvens desfeitas
No mar
Pombas do meu cantar
Canto apenas
Lembranças várias
Vindas das sendas
Que ninguém sabe
Onde vão
Pombas que não voltam
Lyrics and Translation from LyricsTranslate.com
Eye Adaba
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-XEKOW51nkc
Translation:
The day has dawned, the day has dawned upon me
In this land, the day has dawned, I see hope
White Dove, White Dove
That flies high, high above the sky
Come land on me
The Day has dawned, I see hope
Speak so we can hear you
White Dove, White Dove
That flies high, high above the sky
Come land on me
The Day has dawned, I see hope
Original:
Oju mo ti mo
Oju mo ti mo mi
Ni le yi o o
Oju mo ti mo – mo ri re o
Eye abada
Eye adaba
Eye adaba ti n fo l’oke l’oke ori orun
Wa ba le mi o o
Oju mo ti mo mo ri re o
E wi ki’n gbo se
Eye abada
Eye adaba
Eye adaba ti n fo lo ke lo ke
Wa ba le mi o o
Oju mo ti mo, mo ri re o
Gentle Now, Doves of the Thicket
Gentle now,
doves of the thornberry and moringa thicket,
don’t add to my heart-ache
your sighs.
Gentle now,
or your sad cooing
will reveal the love I hide
the sorrow I hide away.
I echo back, in the evening,
in the morning, echo,
the longing of a love-sick lover,
the moaning of the lost.
In a grove of tamarisks
spirits wrestled,
bending the limbs down over me,
passing me away.
They brought yearning,
breaking of the heart,
and other new twists of pain,
putting me through it.
Who is there for me in Jám’,
and the Stoning-Place at Miná,
who for me at Tamarisk Grove,
or at the way-station of Na’mān?
Hour by hour
they circle my heart
in rapture, in love-ache,
and touch my pillars with a kiss.
As the best of creation
circled the Ka’ba,
which reason with its proofs
called unworthy,
And kissed the stones there –
and he was the Natiq!
And what is the house of stone
compared to a man or a woman?
They swore, and how often!
they’d never change – piling up vows.
She who dyes herself red with henna
is faithless.
A white-blazed gazelle
is an amazing sight,
red-dye signalling,
eyelids hinting,
Pasture between breastbones
and innards.
Marvel,
a garden among the flames!
My heart can take on
any form:
a meadow for gazelles,
a cloister for monks,
For the idols, sacred ground,
Ka’ba for the circling pilgrim,
the tables of the Torah,
the scrolls of the Qur’án.
I profess the religion of love;
wherever its caravan turns along the way,
that is the belief,
the faith I keep.
Like Bishr,
Hind and her sister,
love-mad Qays and his lost Láyla,
Máyya and her lover Ghaylán.
Silence is never empty
When it is between you and me.
Thinking about whatever may be
All I know is I feel love
When you’re silent with me
Here we are the two of us
Holding hands inside my car
You alway console me that way
Silent, next to me
Watching as I sweep sad things away
And though you might be able to explain
What happens in the heart
Truly everything comes from nothing,
In your silent glance
There is never an empty silence
Original:
Nunca é silencio vão
Esse que tenho contigo.
Pensando nós no que for
Só sei que sinto o amor
Quando te calas comigo.
E lá ficamos os dois
De mãos dadas no meu carro.
Consolas-me sempre assim
Calado junto de mim
Vendo as tristezas que varro.
E por mais que explique bem
O que vai no coração,
É do nada que vem tudo,
Nesse teu olhar tão mudo
Nunca há silencio vão.
I said goodbye to you, I don’t remember
What day in September it was
Only that it was dawn
The street was empty
And even the moon, not wanting to intrude,
Pretended that it saw nothing
We smiled at farewell
Like people who know that life
Is just another name that death goes by
We never met again
Nor did we ask anyone
About each other
What memory or yearning
Will tell the whole truth
That we couldn’t handle then?
Whether by nostalgia or by memory
I can only tell the story
Of how much I miss you
Original:
Disse-te adeus não me lembro
Em que dia de Setembro
Só sei que era madrugada;
A rua estava deserta
E até a lua discreta
Fingiu que não deu por nada
Sorrimos à despedida
Como quem sabe que a vida
É nome que a morte tem
Nunca mais nos encontrámos
E nunca mais perguntámos
Um p’lo outro a ninguém
Que memória ou que saudade
Contará toda a verdade
Do que não fomos capazes
Por saudade ou por memória
Eu só sei contar a história
Da falta que tu me fazes
Holy Father in Rome,
I have to ask
if the sins that I have
if the sins I have,
if the sins I have,
can they be forgiven?
I’m like a sad bird
that goes from branch to branch,
singing its suffering,
singing its suffering,
because it doesn’t know how to cry.
Oh how beautiful are the flowers,
the cheerful spring
with its divine colors.
You are the sea,
I am the sand,
I’ll go with you,
wherever you want.
Europe’s Chapel,
Europe’s Chapel,
overlooking the bay
so pretty and beautiful,
so pretty and beautiful,
the fields of Andalusia.
You are the sea,
I am the sand,
I’ll go with you,
wherever you want.
Original:
Lailolailolailo, leilo…
Al Padre Santo de Roma,
le tengo que preguntar
si los pecados que tengo
si los pecados que tengo,
si los pecados que tengo,
me los puede perdonar.
Soy cómo el pájaro triste,
ay que de rama en rama va,
cantando su sufrimiento,
cantando su sufrimiento,
porque no sabe llorar.
{Olé, Paco}
Ay qué bonitas están las flores,
de la alegre primavera
con sus divinos colores.
Tú eres la mar,
yo soy la arena,
yo voy contigo,
dónde tú quieras.
De la Capilla de Europa,
de la Capilla de Europa,
se divisa la bahía
más bonita y más hermosa,
ay más bonita y más hermosa,
de la vega Andalucía.
Tú eres la mar,
yo soy la arena,
yo voy contigo,
dónde tú quieras.
You forged these chains and set me free
I’m your dream, you’re my memory
Don’t forget me, I beg you please
My darkness, light, health and disease
My love is yours, so yours is mine
So lift my ore out of this mine
Don’t leave me shrouded in my mind
Love flows behind the clouds of time
Only my death will end our war
My perfections stain your faults
My waves will crash upon your shore
Until your rocks become my salt
دلم دردى كه دارد با كه گويد
To whom can my heart speak of its pain
To whom can I repent, for I’ve sinned again?
Alas! Isn’t there a sympathetic freind
who would welcome my bad luck?
When you spoke to me of abandonment
you were a dying person describing death
Why should one wash their hands of you when
they’re not full at the table of your union?
My heart sees your face through a hundred walls;
it breathes your scent from a hundred leagues
I won’t forget the rose of your union
otherwise the thorns will grow upon my grave
Today the grief of ‘Attar’s heart
speaks or is silent by your decree
-‘Attar
Original:
دلم دردی که دارد با که گوید گنه خود کرد تاوان از که جوید
دریغا نیست همدردی موافق که بر بخت بدم خوش خوش بموید
مرا گفتی که ترک ما بگفتی به ترک زندگانی کس بگوید
کسی کز خوان وصلت سیر نبود چرا باید که دست از تو بشوید
ز صد بارو دلم روی تو بیند ز صد فرسنگ بوی تو ببوید
گل وصلت فراموشم نگردد وگر خار از سر گورم بروید
غم درد دل عطار امروز چه فرمایی بگوید یا نگوید
I will be like the willow,
I will be like the willow,
though I last one hundred years,
I will be like the willow,
that sways in the air,
but remains firm,
but remains firm.
I think like the cypress,
I think like the cypress,
the truest of truths,
the truest of truths,
that on which I stand.
For God’s sake, Lord Mayor,
Don’t hit the thieves,
because you have a child,
and part of their hearts,
ay ay ay Mother,
ay ay ay Mother.
If you comb your hair with the comb,
canastero and comb,
I can assure you
that you will curl your hair,
that you can curl,
your black hair, your hair,
if you comb your hair with the comb,
the comb of the castanero.
From the root of an olive tree
my Gypsy mother was born
and I, as her son,
I am a stem of the same branch.
Oh mai, mai oh,
Oh Mother, oh Mother.
And this scarf,
and this handkerchief,
I carry with me,
for when I cry,
I release you,
for when I cry,
I release you.
The Virgin of Remedios
has her dark face,
and the child in her arms,
handsomer than the lily.
Oh Mother, oh Mother.
I live in love, and for me your kisses,
are like the source of my thoughts.
I live in love ..
Original:
Ay yo seré como la mimbre,
que yo seré como la mimbre,
aunque cien años yo dure,
y yo seré como la mimbre,
y que la bambolea el aire,
pero se mantiene firme,
pero se mantiene firme.
Yo pienso como el ciprés,
yo pienso como el ciprés,
la verdad más verdadera,
la verdad más verdadera,
la de mantenerse en pié.
Por Dios, alcalde mayor,
no pegue usted a los ladrones,
porque usted tiene una niña,
y que parte los corazones,
ay ay ay mare,
ay ay ay mare.
Si te peinas con el peine,
y el peine del canastero,
y yo te puedo asegurar
y que se te riza a ti el pelo,
que se te puede rizar,
tu pelo negro, tu pelo,
si te peinas con el peine,
el peine del canastero.
De la raíz de un olivo
ay nació mi mare gitana,
y yo, como soy su hijo,
tronco de la misma rama.
Oh mai, oh mai,
oh mare, oh mare.
Y este pañuelo,
y este pañuelo,
lo llevo conmigo,
pa cuando yo lloro,
lo estreno contigo,
pa cuando yo lloro,
lo estreno contigo.
La Virgen de los Remedios
tiene su cara morena,
y el niño que está en sus brazos,
más guapo que la azucena.
Oh mare, oh mare.
Yo vivo enamorao y para mí tus besos,
son como la fuente de mis pensamientos.
Yo vivo enamorao..
El Embrujo de tus ojos
Translation:
I will be like the willow,
I will be like the willow,
though I last one hundred years,
I will be like the willow,
that sways in the air,
but remains firm,
but remains firm.
It appeared, it appeared,
In a dream vanishing my happiness.
God, how I remember.
I remember that day.
If great was my torment
still greater was my joy
when I woke from sleep
and I saw that it was a lie.
And I gaze at the firmament,
and I tell the stars,
of my worship and thought,
and that I adore the name Gema Gema.
When I remember you,
what a beautiful name you carry,
Gema, Gema, Gema.
When I remember you,
the spell of your eyes
that will not let me live
Like children, I cry
remembering you.
You do not go,
you do not go,
Do not leave me alone.
You do not leave me.
Look at me, and I cry,
and you say softly
“Why did you leave me?”
You and I on the blanket,
You and I in the moonlight,
and your black eyes sparkled,
reflecting tenderness.
Original:
Yo seré como la mimbre,
que yo seré como la mimbre,
aunque cien años yo dure,
y, yo seré como la mimbre,
y que la bambolea el aire,
pero se mantiene firme,
pero se mantiene firme.
Se apareció, se apareció,
en un ensueño despidiendo mi alegría.
Dios mío, cómo me acuerdo.
Yo me acuerdo de aquel día.
Si grande fue mi tormento
más grande fue mi alegría
cuando desperté del sueño
y yo vi que era mentira.
Y yo repaso el firmamento,
y me dicen las estrellas,
y que adorara el pensamiento,
y que adorara yo el nombre de Gema, Gema.
Cuando me acuerdo de ti,
qué bonito nombre llevas,
Gema, Gema, Gema.
Cuando me acuerdo de ti,
del embrujo de tus ojos
que no me dejan vivir.
Como los niños yo lloro
y acordándome de ti.
Tú no te vayas,
tu no te vayas,
tú no me dejes solo.
Tú no te vayas de mí.
Y me miras, y me lloras,
y tú me dices bajito
¿por qué me abandonas?
Tú y yo sobre la manta,
tú y yo bajo la luna,
y brillaban tus ojos negros,
reflejando la ternura.
I saw myself as vinegar, so I mixed myself in sugar
I was a bowl full of poison, so I went to the cure
I was a cup of dregs, so I dived into the water of life
My eye was full of pain, so I sought Jesus’ hand
I saw myself as raw, so I mixed with the ripe
I found the dust of love’s alley to be the soul’s eye-liner
And I became poetry in the subtlety of that dust I mixed
Love said, “Yes, that’s right,” you said, “But don’t see it [as coming] from your self.”
I am wind and you are fire, I enliven you and inspire
Original:
خویش را چون خار دیدم سوی گل بگریختم
خویش را چون سرکه دیدم در شکر آمیختم
کاسه پرزهر بودم سوی تریاق آمدم
ساغری دردی بدم در آب حیوان ریختم
دیده پردرد بودم دست در عیسی زدم
خام دیدم خویش را در پختهای آویختم
خاک کوی عشق را من سرمه جان یافتم
شعر گشتم در لطافت سرمه را می بیختم
عشق گوید راست می گویی ولی از خود مبین
من چو بادم تو چو آتش من تو را انگیختم
Camaron
Translation:
CHORUS I am the wind you are the fire and I want to burn in your embers or you can turn off the light with a little water Leilere, lere lereilere
2nd verse:
Why don’t you look for me
I need you to find me
my world is a cold forest
in which I lose myself
my world is an empty thing
since only you can relieve me
I’m lost
and my love is so sincere
that sometimes without losing you
I am scared of losing you
if I lose you
I’ll take a kiss from your mouth
and I want to dream of you, awake
with you, with you
Leilere lerelerelereilere
Original:
Tu mare y la mía
se habían disgustao
pelillos del roete
se han arrancao
Por que no te vienes
y me ayudas a levantarme
no ves que yo estoy caio
tengo el corazón partío tengo el corazón herio
y como no seas tú quien lo alivie
no encuentra alivio
ESTRIBILLO
yo soy el viento
tu eres la hoguera
y yo en tus brasas quemarme quisiera
ni el agüita claralo podrá apagar
Leilere, lere lereilere
Por qué no me buscas
necesito que me encuentres
mi mundo es un bosque frio
en el que yo me extravio mi mundo es algo vacioy como no seas tú quien lo alivies
yo estoy perdio
Por eso mi cariño es tan sincero
que a veces sin perderte siento miedo
de perderte
si te pierdo
te hago beso de tu boca
y te quiero soñar dispierto
contigo, contigo
Leilere lerelerelereilere
