Absurdo (Absurd)
Absurdo (Absurd)
Music: Virgilio Expósito
Lyrics: Homero Expósito
Translation: Felipe & Ayano
Recorded by Edmundo Rivero accompanied by Carlos Figari in 1958
Embedded Files
Español
Español
Ayer estaba recordando
tu casa... mi casa...
¡Portal donde la luna se aburrió esperando,
cedrón en donde el viento se perfuma y pasa!
Y al ver
que nos pusimos viejos
y todo fue en vano,
siento un vals en tu piano llorar
y me pongo a pensar
si no llora de amor.
Era la era primera
que apaga la ojera
y enciende el rubor,
y una tarde -¿te acuerdas?- un beso
debajo del cerezo
sellaba nuestro amor.
Pudo el amor ser un nudo
mas dudo que pudo
luchando vencer...
Una casa era pobre, otra rica...
Fácilmente se explica que
no pudo ser.
Así, por el recuerdo, lloro
tu casa... mi casa...
Tu amor, que está guardado en un estuche de oro
mi amor, que al fin -de darse- se quedó sin brasas...
Y al ver
que nos pusimos viejos
y estamos tan solos
siento un vals en tu piano llorar
y me pongo a pensar
si no llora de amor.
Era la era primera
que apaga la ojera
y enciende el rubor,
y una tarde -¿te acuerdas?- un beso
debajo del cerezo
sellaba nuestro amor.
Pudo el amor ser un nudo
mas dudo que pudo
luchando vencer...
Una casa era pobre, otra rica...
Fácilmente se explica que
no pudo ser.
Una casa era pobre, otra rica...
Fácilmente se explica que
no pudo ser.
English
English
Yesterday I was remembering
your house... my house...
the doorway where the moon grew bored waiting,
the lemon verbena bush where the wind catches the scent as it passes!
And seeing
that we have grown old
and it was all in vain,
I hear a waltz weeping on your piano
and I find myself wondering
if it isn't weeping for love.
It was that first era
the one that fades the shadows under the eyes
and kindles the blush
and one afternoon—do you remember?—a kiss
beneath the cherry tree
sealed our love.
Love could have been a bond,
yet I doubt it could have
triumphed in the struggle...
One house was poor, the other rich...
It is easily explained why
it could not be.
And so, remembering, I weep for
your house... my house...
for your love, kept safe in a golden case,
my love, which at last -when it finally happened- ran out of embers...
And seeing
that we have grown old
and are so alone,
I hear a waltz weeping on your piano
and I find myself wondering
if it isn't weeping for love.
It was that first era
the one that fades the shadows under the eyes
and kindles the blush
and one afternoon—do you remember?—a kiss
beneath the cherry tree
sealed our love.
Love could have been a bond,
yet I doubt it could have
triumphed in the struggle...
One house was poor, the other rich...
It is easily explained why
it could not be.
One house was poor, the other rich...
It is easily explained why
it could not be.
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