utrinki iz preteklosti - 100 - GUANTANAMERA (november 2008)

"Mami, jaz bi Guantanamera!"  In ko se odvrti, sledi: »Še bi Guantanamera!«

In takole s sinom križariva najine cestne dogodivščine. Že lep čas se vrti en sam dvd z glasbenim naborom od tu in tam, a naš mali glasbeni sladokusec se je odločil, da mu Julio Iglesias najbolj leži. Pa zanimivo, tudi zanj se v naboru najde kompilacija Maček Muri. Ne, Julio je bolj zakon. Mi si v avtu ne pojemo »štiri mačke ena miš, gluha koza ti loviš«, ampak Guantanamera, guajira,......... Že nekaj časa nazaj si jo je prepeval zvečer na previjalni mizi.

Poba ima res specialen okus!

Ker mi moja španska razgledanost razjasni le droben del vsebine, sem jo poiskala na netu. Guantanamera je ponarodela kubanska pesem o deklici iz Guantanama. Ker novodobniki poznamo Guantanamo le kot enega izmed strašnih Bušizmov, vam razkrivam malo lepšo plat te besede. Je pa Guantanamera tudi znamka cigar, ki jih Kubanci rolajo za Američane.

 

  

Mimogrede, tole je moja stota objava! Pa šele začela sem ...

 

 

 

           

Yo soy un hombre sincero
De donde crece la palma
Y antes de morirme quiero
Echar mis versos del alma
Guantanamera, guajira, Guantanamera

I am a sincere man
From where the palm tree grows
And before dying I want
To share the verses of my soul.

***

Mi verso es de un verde claro
Y de un carmín encendido
Mi verso es de un ciervo herido
Que busca en el monte amparo
Guantanamera, guajira, Guantanamera

My verse is light green
And it is flaming crimson
My verse is a wounded deer
Who seeks refuge on the mountain (or in the woods).

***

This third verse was never part of the song, Guantanamera, but was written in "Versos Sencillos"

Cultivo una rosa blanca
En julio como en enero
Para el amigo sincero
Que me da su mano franca
Guantanamera, guajira Guantanamera

I cultivate a white rose
In July as in January
For the sincere friend
Who gives me his honest hand.

***

This fourth verse is translated during the song as sung by Pete Seeger & Arlo Guthrie

Y para el cruel que me arranca
El corazon con que vivo
Cardo ni ortiga cultivo
Cultivo la rosa blanca
Guantanamera, guajira Guantanamera

And for the cruel one
who would tear out this heart with which I live
I do not cultivate nettles nor thistles
I cultivate a white rose

***

Final verse of song, as published:

Con los pobres de la tierra
Quiero yo mi suerte echar
El arroyo de la sierra
Me complace más que el mar
Guantanamera, guajira Guantanamera

With the poor people of the earth
I want to share my fate
The brook of the mountains
Gives me more pleasure than the sea