Volver a los diecisiete
Violeta ParraEnglish translation 3 / Traduzione inglese 3 / Traduction anglaise... | |
To be seventeen again To be seventeen again After living for a hundred years, It's like uncovering truths Without having to be wise. To return all of a sudden To being as fragile as a moment, To once again feel things deeply Like a child before God, That is what I feel In this fertile moment. It coils round and round Like the ivy up the wall, And it grows and grows Like the moss on a stone, Like the moss on a stone, oh yes, yes, yes. My steps take me back While yours advance, The Ark of the Covenant Has flooded my nest. With all of its coloring It has strolled through my veins, And even the heavy chains That destiny binds us with. It's like a fine diamond Illuminating my serene soul. It coils round and round Like the ivy up the wall, And it grows and grows Like the moss on a stone, Like the moss on a stone, oh yes, yes, yes. What feeling can do Knowledge hasn't know how, Nor the clearest procedure Nor the deepest thoughts. Everything is changed by a moment, That acquiescent magician, Softly distances us From resentment and violence. Only love and its science Can make us so innocent. It coils round and round Like the ivy up the wall, And it grows and grows Like the moss on a stone, Like the moss on a stone, oh yes, yes, yes. Love is a whirlwind Made of original pureness, Even the fierce animal Will whisper it sweet song. It can halt the pilgrims, It frees prisoners, Love and its care Will turn the old man into a boy. And for the sinner only affection Can make him pure and sincere. It coils round and round Like the ivy up the wall, And it grows and grows Like the moss on a stone, Like the moss on a stone, oh yes, yes, yes. The window is wide open, It opened as if by magic, Love entered with his blanket Like a warm morning, With the sound of its beautiful reveille It made the jasmine bloom, That seraphim angel flew And placed rings in the sky. And I turned seventeen Converted by the cherubim. It coils round and round Like the ivy up the wall, And it grows and grows Like the moss on a stone, Like the moss on a stone, oh yes, yes, yes. | To be seventeen again To be seventeen again after a century of living Is like deciphering signs without wisdom or competence to be all of a sudden as fragile as a second to once again feel so deeply like a child facing God that is what I feel in this fecund instant. There it goes tangling tangling like the ivy on the wall and so it sprouts up, sprouts up like tiny moss on the stone like tiny moss on the stone oh yes, yes, yes. My steps going backwards while yours go forward the arch of alliances has got inside my nest with all of its wide palette it has ambled through my veins and even the hard chains with which destiny binds us are like a blessed day that brightens my calmed soul. There it goes tangling tangling like the ivy on the wall and so it sprouts up, sprouts up like tiny moss on the stone like tiny moss on the stone oh yes, yes, yes. What feelings can grasp knowledge cannot understand not even the clearest behaviour not even the broadest thought the brimming, condescending moment changes everything sweetly removes us away from rancour and from violence only love with its science makes us so innocent. There it goes tangling tangling like the ivy on the wall and so it sprouts up, sprouts up like tiny moss on the stone like tiny moss on the stone oh yes, yes, yes. Love is a whirlwind of primeval purity even the fierce animal whispers its sweet trill it stops pilgrims it liberates prisoners love with its solicitude turns the elderly into a child as to the bad person only affection makes him pure and sincere. There it goes tangling tangling like the ivy on the wall and so it sprouts up, sprouts up like tiny moss on the stone like tiny moss on the stone oh yes, yes, yes. The window opened wide as if under a spell love entered with its blanket like a warm morning and to the sound of its beautiful reveille prompted the jasmine to flower flying like a seraph put earrings on the sky and the cherub turned my years into seventeen. There it goes tangling tangling like the ivy on the wall and so it sprouts up, sprouts up like tiny moss on the stone like tiny moss on the stone oh yes, yes, yes. |