Tracklist

1. ¡Abre!

   Joep Everts - Netherlands
   Lyrics
   ×

   La virgen está en su cuarto.
   Estoy fuera delante su puerta.
   Y por más que llamo, grito y canto,
   no pasa nada, parece inerte.
    
   ¡Abre!
    
   Estoy sola dentro de mi cuarto.
   Un tipo está delante de mi puerta.
   Y por más que llama, grita y canta,
   yo no respondo, me hago inerte.

   The virgin is sitting in her room.
   I'm outside on her doorstep.
   No matter how I knock, shout or sing,
   nothing happens, she seems inert.
    
   Open up!
    
   I'm alone in my room.
   A guy stands on my doorstep.
   No matter how he knocks, shouts or sings,
   I don't respond, I pretend to be inert.

2. Învîrtită

   trad. Romania
   

3. Barlovento

   Eduardo Serrano - Venezuela
   Lyrics
   ×

   Barlovento, Barlovento,
   tierra ardiente y del tambor,
   tierra de las fulias
   y negras finas
   que llevan de fiesta
   su cintura prieta,
   al son de la curveta
   y el taquitaqui sobre la mina.
    
   Sabroso que mueve el cuerpo
   la Barloventeña cuando camina.
   Que vengan los conuqueros
   para el baile de San Juan!
    
   Que la mina esta templada
   para sonar el tiquitaquitita.
    
   Sabroso que suena
   el taquititaquitaqui
   sobre la mina.

   Barlovento, Barlovento,
   land of fire and drums,
   land of  fulia-drums
   and beautiful black women
   who wear to the party
   their waistband tight,
   at the sound of the curveta-drum
   and the taquitaqui of the mina-drum.
    
   Lovely how the woman from Barlovento
   moves her body when she walks.
   May the crofters come
   to the dance in San Juan!
    
   May the mina-drum be tuned
   to make sound the tiquitaquitita.
    
   Lovely how it sounds
   the tiquitaquitita
   on the mina-drum.

4. Alfonsina y el Mar

   music: Ariel Ramirez - lyrics: Felix Luna - Argentina
   Lyrics
   ×

   Por la blanda arena que lame el mar
   su pequeña huella no vuelve más
   y un sendero solo de pena y silencio
   llegó hasta el agua profunda
   y un sendero solo de penas mudas
   llegó hasta la espuma
   
   Sabe Dios que angustia te acompañó
   qué dolores viejos calló tu voz
   para recostarte arrullada
   en el canto de las caracolas marinas
   la canción que canta
   en el fondo oscuro del mar la caracola
   
   Te vas Alfonsina con tu soledad
   ¿qué poemas nuevos fuiste a buscar?
   y una voz antigua de viento y de sal
   te requiebra el alma
   y la está llamando
   y te vas, hacia allá como en sueños
   dormida Alfonsina, vestida de mar
   
   Cinco sirenitas te llevarán
   por caminos de algas y de coral
   y fosforescentes caballos marinos
   harán una ronda a tu lado
   y los habitantes del agua
   van a jugar pronto a tu lado
   
   Bájame la lámpara un poco más
   déjame, nodriza, que duerma en paz
   y si llama él no le digas que estoy
   dile que Alfonsina no vuelve
   y si llama él no le digas nunca que estoy
   dile que me he ido

   By the soft sand that licks the sea
   its small track does not return
   and a single footpath of pain and silence
   reached the deep water
   and a single footpath of silent pain
   reached the foam
   
   God knows what distresses accompanied you
   what old pains shut up your voice
   so you lay down sung to sleep
   by the song of the marine conches
   the song that sings
   in the dark bottom of the sea the conch
   
   You go away Alfonsina with your solitude
   what new poems you went looking for?
   and an old voice of wind and salt
   breaks your soul
   and it is calling it
   and you go away, towards there, like in dreams
   Alfonsina asleep, dressed in sea
   
   Five little mermaids will take you
   by paths of seaweed and coral
   and fluorescent sea horses
   will dance around at your side
   and the inhabitants of the water
   are going to play soon at your side
   
   Lower the lamp a little more
   allow me, nanny, to sleep in peace
   and if he calls, don't tell him that I am
   tell him that Alfonsina will not return
   and if he calls, never tell him that I am
   say that I have gone away

5. Turcească

   trad. Romania
   

6. Lume, lume

   trad. Romania
   Lyrics
   ×

   Lume, lume, soră lume
   Cînd să mă satur de tine
   Lume, soră lume?
   Cînd s-o lasă sec de pîine
   Şi păharuţul de mine?
   Lume, soră lume!
   
   Lume, lume, soră lume
   Poate-atunci m-oi satura
   Cînd mi-o sună scîndura
   Lume, soră lume!
   Cînd m-or baga in mormînt
   Şi n-oi mai fi pe pămînt
   Lume, soră lume!
   
   Lume, lume, soră lume
   C-aşa-i lumea, trecătoare
   Unul naşte, altul moare
   Lume, soră lume!
   Al de naşte necăjeşte
   Al de moare putrezeşte
   Lume, soră lume!

   World, sister world
   world, sister world
   when shall I tire of you
   when shall I tire of you
   world, sister world
   when I will not touch my dry bread
   and my drinking glass?
   world, sister world.
    
   World, sister world
   world, sister world
   perhaps I shall tire of you
   when the scîndura* sounds for me
   world, sister world
   when they take me to my grave
   and I will no longer be there
   world, sister world.
    
   World, sister world
   world, sister world
   for this world is not forever
   one is born, the other dies
   world, sister world
   with a birth comes joy
   with death comes decay
   world, sister world
    
   *scîndura= a plank which hangs outside the church and which is struck with a
   stick during the (burial) service to indicate that the service is beginning.

7. Sîrbă lui Florea Cioacă

   trad. Romania
   

8. Bolero por Juan Guillermo

   Joop van Erven - Netherlands
   

9. La Piragua

   José Barros - Colombia
   Lyrics
   ×

   Me contaron los abuelos que hace tiempo
   navegaba en el Cesar una piragua
   que partía de El Banco viejo puerto
   a las playas de amor en Chimichagua.
    
   Capoteando el vendabal se estremecía
   e impasible desafiaba la tormenta
   y un ejército de estrellas la seguía
   tachonándola de luz y de leyenda.
    
   Era la piragua de Guillermo Cubillos
   era la piragua, era la piragua.
    
   Doce bogas con la piel color majagua
   y con ellos el temible Pedro Albundía
   que en las noches a los remos arrancaban
   un melódico rugir de hermosa cumbia.
    
   Doce sombras, ahora viejos, ya no reman
   ya no cruje el maderamen en el agua
   sólo quedan los recuerdos en la arena
   donde yace dormitando la piragua.

   The old folks told me how a long while ago
   in Cesar sailed a canoe
   which set off from El Banco the old port
   to the beaches of amore in Chimichagua.
    
   Vibrating, it rode out the gale
   stalwartly it withstood the storm
   and an army of stars followed it
   seeding it with light and legend.
    
   It was the canoe of Guillermo Cubillos
   it was the canoe, it was the canoe.
   
   Twelve oarsmen with mahogany coloured skin
   and with them the fearful Pedro Albundía
   in their nights at the oars now they gave forth
   the melodic rumbling of beautiful cumbia.
    
   Twelve shadows, now old, row no longer
   no longer the woodwork creaks in the water
   only the memories remain in the sand
   where the canoe snoozes.

10. Doina

    trad. klezmer
    

11. Borino oro

    trad. Macedonia (čoček)
    

12. Milonga de mis Amores

    Pedro Laurenz - Argentina
    

13. Chiquilin de Bachin

    music: Astor Piazzolla - lyrics: Horacio Ferrer
    Lyrics
    ×

    Por las noches, cara sucia
    de angelito con bluyin,
    vende rosas por las mesas
    del boliche de Bachín.
    Si la luna brilla sobre la parilla,
    come luna y pan de hollín.
     
    Cada día en su tristeza
    que no quiere amanecer,
    lo madrugada un seis de enero
    con la estrella del revés,
    y tres reyes gatos
    roban sus zapatos,
    uno izquierdo, y el otro también!
     
    Chiquilín,
    dame un ramo de voz,
    así salgo a vender
    mis vergüenzas en flor.
    Baleáme con tres rosas
    que duelan
    a cuenta del hambre
    que no te entendí,
    Chiquilín.
     
    Cuando el sol pone a los pibes
    delantales de aprender,
    el aprende cuanto cero
    le quedaba por saber.
    Y a su madre mira,
    yira que te yira
    pero no la quiere ver.
     
    Cada aurora, en la basura,
    con un pan y un tallarín,
    se fabrica un barrilete
    para irse y sigue así!
    Es un hombre extraño,
    niño de mil años,
    que por dentro le enreda el piolín.

    In the evenings, dirty face
    as a little angel in blue jeans
    he sells roses around the tables
    at Bachin's grill.
    If the moon shines over the grill
    he eats moon and soot bread.
     
    Every day in his sadness
    that doesn't want to see the dawn,
    he is surprised by a 6th January
    with the star upside down,
    and Three Cat Kings
    steal his shoes,
    one for the left foot, and the other as well!
     
    Little kid,
    give me a bunch of yourself,
    so I go out to sell
    my shames in bloom.
    Shoot me with three roses
    that hurt
    on account of the hunger
    that I didn't understand,
    Little kid.
     
    When the sun dresses the children
    in school uniforms to learn,
    he learns how much
    he still doesn't know.
    And he looks at his mother,
    walking the streets,
    but he doesn't want to see her.
     
    Every dawn, in the trash,
    with a bum and a spaghetti,
    he builds a kite
    to go away, but remains the same.
    He is a strange man,
    a thousand-year-old child,
    who deep inside tangles his string.

14. Cadineasca dreaptă ca-n Dobrogea

    trad. Romania
    

15. Sobre una tumba una rumba

    Ignacio Piñeiro - Cuba | opening: Frédéric Chopin
    Lyrics
    ×

    Enterrador te suplico
    que por mi bien cantes mucho,
    al recibir los despojos
    de la que fue mis amores.
    Y en el lugar que reposa
    en vez de lucidas flores
    siembra una mata de abrojos
    para no olvidar quién era.
     
    Luego, en lugar de rezarle
    por su descanso un requiem,
    ruega que vaya al infierno
    y que el diablo le haga bien.
    Y en el mármol de su tumba
    de eterna recordación
    pondremos esta inscripción
    que es la copia de una rumba:
     
    No la llores, no la llores,
    que fue la gran bandolera,
    enterrador, no la llores.
     
    No la llores más,
    ni la sientas más,
    que fue la gran bandolera,
    enterrador, no la llores.
     
    No la llores más, (¿por qué?)
    su lengua la mató, (que verdad)
    a esa conversadora,
    enterrador, no la llores.
     
    No la llores más,
    que en el infierno está,
    a esa bandolera
    enterrador, no la llores.
     
    No la llores más,
    que ya me la pagó
    a esa bandolera
    enterrador, no la llores.

    Grave digger I beg you
    that for my good you sing a lot
    when you receive the remains
    of what was my love.
    And in the place where she rests,
    instead of bright flowers
    sow a tangle of thistles
    so as not to forget who she was.
     
    Then rather than pray
    a requiem for her rest,
    pray she go to hell
    and the devil do her good.
    And in the marble of her tomb
    for eternal remembrance
    we will put this inscription
    the copy of a rumba:
     
    Don't cry for her, don't cry for her,
    for she was a great bandit,
    grave digger, don't cry for her.
     
    Don't cry for her anymore
    nor mourn any longer,
    for she was a great bandit,
    grave digger, don't cry.
     
    Don't cry for her anymore (why?)
    it was her tongue that killed her (really)
    this sweet talker,
    grave digger, don't cry for her.
     
    Don't cry for her anymore
    for she's in hell now,
    for that bandit
    grave digger, don't cry.
     
    Don't cry anymore
    for we settled our bills
    for that bandit
    grave digger, don't cry.

16. Rumelai

    trad. Macedonia
    

17. Brîul de la domneşti

    trad. Romania
    

18. Chacarera doble - Chacarera del Rancho

    trad. Argentina - Hermanos Abalos
    

19. Catamarca

    Eduardo Arolas - (tango) - Argentina
    

20. Milonga Sentimental

    music: Sebastian Piana - lyrics: Homero Manzi - Argentina
    Lyrics
    ×

    Milonga pa' recordarte,
    milonga sentimental.
    Otros se quejan llorando,
    yo canto pa' no llorar.
    Tu amor se secó de golpe,
    nunca dijiste por qué.
    Yo me consuelo pensando
    que fue traición de mujer.
     
     
    Varón, pa quererte mucho,
    varón, pa desearte el bien,
    varón, pa olvidar agravios
    porque ya te perdoné.
    Tal vez no lo sepas nunca,
    tal vez no lo peudas creer,
    tal vez te provoque risa
    verme tira’o a tus pies.
     
     
    Es fácil pegar un tajo
    pa cobrar una traición,
    o jugar en una daga,
    la suerte de una pasión.
    Pero no es fácil cortarse
    los tientos de un metejón
    cuando están bien amarrados
    al palo del corazón.

    A sentimental milonga,
    just to remember you by.
    Others complain by crying,
    I sing so that I don't cry.
    Your love dried up for some reason,
    you never told me the tale.
    I comfort myself by thinking
    it was a woman's betrayal.
     
     
    A man, one who really loves you,
    a man, yes I am the one,
    a man, who'll forget you wronged me
    I forgive you what you've done.
    Perhaps you will never know it,
    perhaps you will not believe,
    perhaps you'll be laughing when you
    see me lying at your feet.
     
     
    It's easy to get your vengeance
    with the sharp blade of a knife,
    or, on a passing fancy,
    to gamble on your life.
    But when it's loving that holds you
    it's hard to cut apart
    the tentacles that so tightly
    are tied around your heart.

21. Mokrohájské pole

    trad. Moravia
    Lyrics
    ×

    Mokrohájské pole
    hluboko zorané.
    Po něm, sa prechádzá
    potěsění moje.
     
    Potěsění moje
    černé oči máte
    a já sa vás bójím
    žeňa oklamáte.

    The field of Mokrohaje*
    has been deeply plowed.
    On the field
    my beloved is walking.
     
    My beloved
    with her dark eyes
    and I fear
    that they betray me.
     
    *Mokrohaje= a village in Moravia