Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands/Trista dama de les valls Els miralls de Dylan

Amb la teva boca de mercuri encès

i els teus ulls com fum i les pregàries en vers

la teva creu de plata i la veu dringant

qui es creuria amb dret d'enterrar-te?

Amb les teves ben segures butxaques

i visions de cotxe que a la gespa emmarques

la teva carn de seda i la cara de cristall

qui, d'entre tots ells se t'enduria.

Trista dama de les valls on

profetes tristos no t'hi deixen anar

els meus ulls en dipòsit,

els meus tambors del Marroc,

te'ls he de deixar al portal

oh, trista dama,he d'esperar?

Amb els teus llençols de metall i encaix

i el teu joc de cartes sense reina ni as

els teus vestits antics i la cara espectral

no crec que ningú et pogués vèncer

Amb la silueta retallant-se al capvespre

a dins dels teus ulls on la lluna hi neda

i les cançonetes i els himnes gitanos

qui d'aquells voldria impressionar-te.Trista dama...

Els reis de Tir amb els seus condemnats

esperen en fila del gerani un petó

i tu sense saber com va ser això

no sé si algun d'ells et voldria besar.

Amb els teus jocs d'infants al terra,nocturnals

i d'Espanya els hàbits i les drogues maternals

la teva boca de cowboy i els teus endolls creuats

Oh,quin de tots ells se't podria oposar?.Trista dama...

Pagesos i executius van decidir

d'ensenyar-te els àngels morts i amagats

i no veig per què et van haver d'escollir

oh,no entenc per què van enganyar-te

et volgueren culpar pel que va passar

però amb el mar als peus,l'alarma no va sonar

i el nen del goril·la,dels teus braços penjat

no sé com et van poder convèncer...

Amb la teva placa de metall en record

d'aquell teu marit de la premsa del cor

que un dia va marxar i tu vas fer el cor fort

qui d'entre tots ells et donaria el tros?

Si, ja tens el teu lladre, té la condicional

amb la sagrada medalla que creues amb el dits

de santa la cara,de fantasma l'esperit

oh,qui d'ells podria destruir-te?.Trista dama...

Capo II


D A G A7 2x


D A G A7

With your mercury mouth in the missionary times,

D A G A

And your eyes like smoke and your prayers like rhymes,

G D Em A7 D

And your silver cross, and your voice like chimes,

D Em A7 A

Oh, who do they think could bury you?


D A G A7

With your pockets well protected at last,

D A G A

And your streetcar visions which you place on the grass,

G D Em A7 D

And your flesh like silk, and your face like glass,

D Em A7 A

who could they get to carry you?


Em D A

Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,

Em D A7 A

Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes,

D A G D G D A

My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,

Em A7 A

Should I put them by your gate,

Em D A

Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?


D A G A7

With your sheets like metal and your belt like lace,

D A G A

And your deck of cards missing the jack and the ace,

G D Em A7 D

And your basement clothes and your hollow face,

D Em A7 A

Who among them can think he could outguess you?


D A G A7

With your silhouette when the sunlight dims

D A G A

Into your eyes where the moonlight swims,

G D Em A7 D

And your match-book songs and your gypsy hymns,

D Em A7 A

Who among them would try to impress you?


Em D A

Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,

Em D A7 A

Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes,


D A G D G D A7

My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,

Em A7 A

Should I put them by your gate,

Em D A

Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?


D A G A7

The kings of Tyrus with their convict list

D A G A

Are waiting in line for their geranium kiss,

G D Em A7 D

And you wouldn't know it would happen like this,

D Em A7 A

But who among them really wants just to kiss you?


D A G A7

With your childhood flames on your midnight rug,

D A G A

And your Spanish manners and your mother's drugs,

G D Em A7 D

And your cowboy mouth and your curfew plugs,

D Em A7 A

Who among them do you think could resist you?


Em D A

Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,

Em D A7 A

Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes,

D A G D G D A7

My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,

Em A7 A

Should I put them by your gate,

Em D A

Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?


Oh, the farmers and the businessmen, they all did decide

To show you the dead angels that they used to hide.

But why did they pick you to sympathize with their side?

Oh, how could they ever mistake you?


They wished you'd accepted the blame for the farm,

But with the sea at your feet and the phony false alarm,

And with the child of a hoodlum wrapped up in your arms,

How could they ever, ever persuade you?


Em D A

Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,

Em D A7 A

Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes,

D A G D G D A7

My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,

Em A7 A

Should I put them by your gate,

Em D A

Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?


With your sheet-metal memory of Cannery Row,

And your magazine-husband who one day just had to go,

And your gentleness now, which you just can't help but show,

Who among them do you think would employ you?


Now you stand with your thief, you're on his parole

With your holy medallion which your fingertips fold,

And your saint like face and your ghostlike soul,

Oh, who among them do you think could destroy you


Em D A

Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,

Em D A7 A

Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes,

D A G D G D A7

My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,

Em A7 A

Should I put them by your gate,

Em D A

Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?