From the Cancionero de Palacio

From the Cancionero de Palacio
Dindirindin
Dindirindin
Dindirin daña, dindirindin.
Je me levé un bel maitin,
Matineta per la prata;
encontré le ruyseñor,
que cantaba so la rama, dindirindin.
Dindirin danya, dindirindin.
I arose one fine day
and spent the morning in the meadow;
I heard the nightingale
singing on the bough, dindirindin.
Dindirin daña, dindirindin.
Encontré le ruyseñor,
que cantaba so la rama,
"Ruyseñor, le ruyseñor,
facteme aquesta embaxata,
dindirin din."
I heard the nightingale
singing on the bough,
Nightingale, oh nightingale,
do this errand for me,
din-di-rin-din.
Dindirin danya, dindirindin.
Dindirin daña, dindirindin.
"Ruyseñor, le ruyseñor,
facteme aquesta embaxata,
Y digalo a mon ami:
que je ya só maritata, dindirindin."
Dindirin daña, dindirindin
Nightingale, oh nightingale,
do this errand for me,
tell my lover
that I am already married!
Din-di-rin-din.
Dindirin danya, dindirindin.
Mi libertad en sosiego
Mi libertad en sosiego
Mi libertad en sosiego
mi corazón descuidado
sus muros y fortaleza
amores me lo han cercado.
My untroubled freedom,
my carefree heart,
its walls and defences,
have been besieged by Love.
Razón, seso y cordura,
Que tenía a mi mandado,
Hicieron trato con ellos,
¡Malamente me han burlado!
Love has struck a bargain with Reason,
Wisdom and Good Sense,
which I had at my command:
how wickedly they have deceived me!
Y la fe, que era el alcaide,
Las llaves les ha entregado.
Combatieron por los ojos
Diéronse luego de grado.
And Faith, which was the jailer,
has delivered the keys over to Love.
Love attacked through the eyes,
and then my defences gladly yielded.
Triste España
Triste España
Triste España sin ventura.
todos te deben llorar.
Despoblada d'alegría,
para nunca en ti tornar.
Sad Spain, without future,
All should weep for you.
All joy has departed,
So that you will never be yourself again.
Tormentas, penas, dolores,
te vinieron a poblar.
Sembrote Dios de placer
porque naciese pesar.
Torments, pain, grief,
Will live within your borders,
Set there by God at his pleasure
So that you were born to suffer.
In te Domine speravi
In te Domine speravi
In te Domine speravi
Per trovar pietà in eterno.
Ma in un tristo e obscuro inferno
Fui et frustra laboravi.
In Thee O Lord have I hoped
To find pity for ever.
But I was in a sad and dark hell
and suffered in vain.
Rotto e al vento ogni speranza
Veggio il ciel voltarmi in pianto.
Suspir lacrime m'avanza
Del mio tristo sperar tanto.
Broken and thrown to the wind is all hope.
I have seen heaven turn me to weeping.
Only sighs and tears remain to me
of my sad, strong hope.
Fui ferito, se non quanto
Tribulando ad te clamavi.
In te Domine speravi.
I was wounded, but in my sorrow
I called upon Thee.
In Thee O Lord hace I hoped.
From the Cancionero de Uppsala
Vella de vós som amorós
Vella de vos som amoros
Vella, de vós som amorós.
Ja fósseu mia!
Sempres sospir quant pens en vos,
La nit i día.
Fair one, I am in love with you.
O were you mine!
I always sigh when I think of you,
By night and day.
Ja mai estich punt ni moment
Sens contemplar-vos.
Fora de tot mon sentiment,
Voiç per amar-vos.
Not a moment passes
But I think of you.
All my thoughts
Are of love for you.
Daume valença, puix podeu, Señora mia,
puix en vós es tot lo meu bé
La nit i dia,
Give me strength, as you can, my lady,
For in you is all my well-being,
By night and day.
Si n’os hubiera mirado
Si nos hubiera mirado
Si n’os hubiera mirado,
no penara,
pero tampoco os mirara.
Had I never set eyes upon you
I would not feel this pain,
But nor would I have looked upon you.
Veros harto mal ha sido,
mas no veros peor fuera;
no quedara tan perdido,
pero mucho más perdiera.
Seeing you has been really bad,
But not to have seen you had been worse.
I would not be such a lost soul
But I would have lost much more.
¿Qué viera aquél que no os viera?
¿Cuál quedara?
… pero tampoco os mirara.
What might he see who does not see you?
What might remain to him?
.... But nor would I have looked upon you.
Si la noche haze escura
Si la noche haze escura
Si la noche haze escura
y tan corto es el camino,
¿Como no venís, amigo?
Since the night is drawing on
And the way is short,
Why do you not come, my friend?
La media noche es pasada
Y el que me pena no viene;
Mi desdicha lo detiene,
¡Que nasçi tan desdichada!
It is past midnight
But he who pains me does not come.
My misfortune delays him,
Oh, I was born so unfortunate.
Hazeme bivir penada
Y muestraseme enemigo.
¿Como no venís, amigo?
He makes me live in pain
And shows himself to be my enemy.
Why do you not come, my friend?
Teresica herman
Teresica hermana
Teresica hermana
de la fararirira
Hermana Teresa.
Little Teresa, sister,
delafararirira,
Sister Teresa.
Si a ti pluguiesse
una noche sola
contigo durmiesse,
de la fararirira.
What if I implored you
that for a single night
with you I might sleep?
delafararirira
Una noche sola
yo bien dormiría
mas tengo gran miedo
qu m´empreñaría.
One single night
I would gladly sleep (with you)
but I am terribly afraid
that I might fall pregnant.
¿Con qué la lavaré?
Con qué la lavaré?
¿Con que la lavaré
la flor de la mi cara?
¿Con que la lavaré
que vivo mal penada?
With what shall I wash
The flower of my face?
With what shall I wash it,
Who lives in such pain?
Lavanse las casadas
con agua de limones.
Lavo me yo cuitada
con penas y dolores.
The married women wash
in lemon water,
I wash my face in wretchedness,
In pain and grief.
From the Cancionero de Medinaceli
En la fuente del rosel
En el fuente del rosel
En la fuente del rosel
Lavan la niña y el doncel.
En la fuente de agua clara
Con sus manos lavan la cara,
El a ella y ella a él.
In the fountain by the rose bush
The girl and the young man are washing,
In the fountain of clear water,
With their hands they wash their faces,
He hers and she his.
Puse mis amores
Puse mis amores
Puse mis amores en Fernandillo.
¡Ay, que era casado,
mal me ha mentido!
I gave my love to Fernando,
Oh! But he was married;
How he lied to me!
Dígasme el barquero, barquero garrido,
en qual de aquellas barcas va Fernandillo.
Tell me, handsome boatman,
In which of those boats sails Fernando?
El traydor era casado,
mal me ha mentido.
The deceiver was married;
How he lied to me!
Claros y frescos ríos
Claros y frescos rios
Claros y frescos ríos que mansamente váis
Siguiendo vuestra natural camino;
Desiertos montes mios, que en un estado estáis
De soledad muy triste, de contino;
Aves en quien ay tino de descansar cantando;
Arboles que vivís y en fin también morís,
Oídme juntamente!
Mi voz amarga, ronca y tan doliente.
Clear fresh streams
That gently flow along their natural path,
Bare mountains in a state of solitude,
Birds that have the knack of resting whilst
singing,
Trees that live and in the end die,
Hear me all of you! Hear my bitter voice,
rough and in great suffering.
Cantar del alma
Cantar del alma
Aquella eterna fuente está escondida,
Que bien sé yo do tiene su manida,
Aunque es de noche.
Su origen no lo sé, pues no le tiene
Mas sé que todo origen de ella viene,
Aunque es de noche.
Sé que no puede ser cosa tan bella,
Y que cielos y tierra beben de ella,
Aunque es de noche.
Aquesta fuente está escondida
En este vivo pan por darnos vida,
En esta noche osxura.
Que sé yo por fe la fonte Frida.
That eternal fountain is hidden,
I know well where it lies, though it is night.
I do not know its origin, since it has none,
But I know that every origin comes from it,
though it is night.
I know there cannot be anything as beautiful
And heaven and earth drink from it,
though it is night.
Sé ser tan caudalosas sus corrientes
Que infierno, cielos riegan y a las gentes,
Aunque es de noche,
El corriente que nace de esta fuente,
Bien sé que es tan capaz y tan potente,
Aunque es de noche.
Aquesta viva fuente que yo deseo
En este pan de vida yo la veo, aunque es de noche.
I know its streams to be so abundant
that they water Hell, Heaven and mankind
though it is night.
The stream that is born of this fountain
I know how strong it is, and how powerful,
though it is night
This living fountain that I desire
I see it in this bread of life, though it is night.
Aquella fuente está escondida,
Que bien sé yo do tiene su manida,
Su origen no lo sé,
Mas sé que todo origen de ella viene.
That eternal fountain is hidden,
I know well where it lies,
I do not know its origin,
But I know that every origin comes from it.
This fountain is hidden
In this living bread to give us life
In this dark night.
For by faith I know the cool fountain.
From Siete canciones populares
españolas, by Manuel de Falla
El paño moruno
The moorish cloth
Al paño fino, en la tienda,
una mancha le cayó;
Por menos precio se vende,
Porque perdió su valor.
¡Ay!
On the fine cloth in the store
a stain has fallen;
It sells at a lesser price,
because it has lost its value.
Alas!
Seguidilla murciana
Seguidilla from Murcia
Cualquiera que el tejado
Tenga de vidrio,
No debe tirar piedras
Al del vecino.
Arrieros semos;
¡Puede que en el camino
Nos encontremos!
Whoever has a roof
of glass
should not throw stones
at the neighbor's .
Let us be muleteers;
It could be that on the road
we meet!
Por tu mucha inconstancia
Yo te comparo
Con peseta que corre
De mano en mano;
Que al fin se borra,
Y creyéndola falsa
¡Nadie la toma!
For your great inconstancy
I compare you
to a coin that passes
from hand to hand;
which finally is worn away,
and, believing it false,
no one accepts it!
Nana
Lullaby
Duérmete, niño, duerme,
Duerme, mi alma,
Duérmete, lucerito
De la mañana.
Nanita, nana,
Nanita, nana.
Duérmete, lucerito
De la mañana.
Go to sleep, child, sleep,
Sleep, my soul,
Go to sleep, little star
Of the morning.
Lulla-lullaby,
Lulla-lullaby,
Sleep, little star
of the morning.
Jota
Jota
Dicen que no nos queremos
Porque no nos ven hablar;
A tu corazón y al mío
Se lo pueden preguntar.
They say we don't love each other
because they never see us talking
But they only have to ask
both your heart and mine.
Ya me despido de tí,
De tu casa y tu ventana,
Y aunque no quiera tu madre,
Adiós, niña, hasta mañana.
Aunque no quiera tu madre..
Now I bid you farewell
your house and your window too;
and though your mother does not
wish it,
Farewell, dearest, till tomorrow.
From Habaneras de la Costa Brava,
by Xavier Montsalvatge
Allá en mi Cuba
There in my Cuba
Allá en mi Cuba que es mi nativo suelo
En cuyo prado la belleza mora
Hay una flor que solitaria mora
Mi triste vida abandonada aquí.
There in my Cuba, my native land,
In whose prairie beauty lives
There is a flower that remains solitary,
My sad life, abandoned here.
Pero tal vez ignorará, quién sabe,
Que yo le adoro con pasión vehemente,
Pero quizá su corazón presente
El sacre fuego en que me siento arder.
But perhaps she will not realise, who knows,
That I adore her with a vehement passion,
But perhaps her heart suspects
The sacred fire that I feel burning in me.
Más si mañana a mi Cuba vuelo
Y no la encuentro en su paterno asilo
Iré exhalar mi postrero suspiro
Allá donde ella me juró su fé.
But if I return to Cuba tomorrow
And I do not find her in her father´s home
I shall breathe my last breath
There where she swore to be true.
La Gaviota
The seagull
¿Quién lo había de decir,
Quién lo había de pensar,
Mi barquilla en la ribera
Y la caña de pescar
Que yo no siento el murmullo de las olas
Ni el suspiro de los aires
NI la alegre gaviota?
Y así te amaré, consuelo de mi amor,
Suspiro de mi alma,
Un amor con frenesí contigo me mata a mí.
Who would have said,
Who would have thought it,
My boat on the shore
And a fishing rod,
That I don’t feel the murmur of the waves
Nor the sigh of the winds
Nor the joyous seagull?
And so I will love you, solace of my love,
Breath of my soul,
A frenzied love of you is killing me.