Alhucema (Alhucema)
Alhucema (Alhucema)
Music: Francisco Pracánico
Lyrics: Horacio Sanguinetti
Translation: Felipe & Ayano
Recorded by Aníbal Troilo with Alberto Marino in 1944
Embedded Files
Recorded by Lucio Demare with Horacio Quintana in 1944
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Negra macumba que zumba el tambor.
¡Ha muerto un moreno y ha muerto de amor!
Triste retumba, retumba su son:
¡Ha muerto un hermano de nuestro color!
Y cruzan la noche los negros y el coche
que encierra un reproche de sangre y pasión.
Y canta un cortejo de labios bermejos
poniendo reflejos de antorcha en la voz.
Alhucema, se llamaba la morena,
que a la muerte lo arrastró.
Negra loca, fue la sangre de su boca
que a los negros embriagó...
Doble pena,
uno vive en sus cadenas
y otro ha muerto por su amor.
(Instrumental)
Negra macumba que oscura canción,
tu sombra derrumba la sombra de Dios.
Lumbra, relumbran los negros que van
rezando, llorando al son del cantar.
Se aleja el entierro con cantos de negros
y llanto de perros que intuyen dolor,
la hoguera del canto se ha ido apagando
con llanto llorando.
Y el fúnebre carro se hunde en un barro
de sombras, rodando.
English
English
Black *macumba* where the drum thunders!
A dark-skinned man has died, and he died of love!
Sadly his rhythm resounds, resounds:
A brother of our own color has died!
And through the night pass the black mourners and the hearse
that holds a reproach of blood and passion.
And a procession with crimson lips sings,
casting the flickering glow of torches into their voices.
Alhucema—that was the dark woman's name—
who dragged him down to death.
Mad black woman! It was the blood from her lips
that intoxicated the black mourners...
Double sorrow:
one man lives on in his chains,
while another has died for her love.
(Instrumental)
Black macumba, what a somber song!
Your shadow casts down even the shadow of God.
Gleaming, the black mourners shine as they go,
praying and weeping to the rhythm of the chant.
The funeral procession recedes with the singing of the black mourners
and the wailing of dogs that sense the pain;
the bonfire of song slowly dies down,
fading away amidst the weeping.
And the funeral cart sinks into a mire
of shadows, rolling on.
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