The Sounds of Silence
Acabo de caer en la cuenta de que ya hace treinta años de cuando nos solíamos reunir la pandilla de amigos en el parque o en la plaza a guitarrear y a cantar lo que se pudiese o supiese... Esta canción era una de las que más se llevaban por entonces, del dúo que llamábamos Simón y Garfúnkel—antes de la llegada de Pol Saimon. Las horas que me debí pegar yo en concreto dándole al folk rock, al blues y hasta a la música clásica, en guitarra acústica por cierto. Esto de la guitarra con las chavalas cerca del mar (o del río) se lleva menos hoy, creo. Algunos no paramos cuando nos compramos la corbata y nos volvimos gente aburrida allá en los años en que los equipos de música se volvieron negros... y aún seguimos guitarreando desde entonces ininterrumpidamente. Pero en solitario, claro.
Si la canción valía algo entonces, aún está más de actualidad ahora, creo, en los años en que las cajas tontas se aplanaron y perdieron la dimensión de la profundidad...
—oOo—
6 comentarios
JoseAngel -
Alfonso Ansó -
La primera es "Master song" (Empieza en "I believe that you heard your master sing " y acaba en "And now do you come back to bring
your prisoner wine and bread?").
La segunda, la que dice:
"I was handsome I was strong,
I knew the words of every song", es el final de "Teachers"; la letra entera de "Teachers" es ésta:
I met a woman long ago
her hair the black that black can go,
Are you a teacher of the heart?
Soft she answered no.
I met a girl across the sea,
her hair the gold that gold can be,
Are you a teacher of the heart?
Yes, but not for thee.
I met a man who lost his mind
in some lost place I had to find,
follow me the wise man said,
but he walked behind.
I walked into a hospital
where none was sick and none was well,
when at night the nurses left
I could not walk at all.
Morning came and then came noon,
dinner time a scalpel blade
lay beside my silver spoon.
Some girls wander by mistake
into the mess that scalpels make.
Are you the teachers of my heart?
We teach old hearts to break.
One morning I woke up alone,
the hospital and the nurses gone.
Have I carved enough my Lord?
Child, you are a bone.
I ate and ate and ate,
no I did not miss a plate, well
How much do these suppers cost?
We'll take it out in hate.
I spent my hatred everyplace,
on every work on every face,
someone gave me wishes
and I wished for an embrace.
Several girls embraced me, then
I was embraced by men,
Is my passion perfect?
No, do it once again.
I was handsome I was strong,
I knew the words of every song.
Did my singing please you?
No, the words you sang were wrong.
Who is it whom I address,
who takes down what I confess?
Are you the teachers of my heart?
We teach old hearts to rest.
Oh teachers are my lessons done?
I cannot do another one.
They laughed and laughed and said, Well child,
are your lessons done?
are your lessons done?
are your lessons done?
Ambas vienen en el primer disco de Leonard Cohen, "Song of Leonard Cohen" (1967), que se abre con "Suzanne".
Miralo en:
http://www.leonardcohenfiles.com/
y vete a "Song Index"
Por cierto, que de ese disco es también esta otra:
The Stranger Song
It's true that all the men you knew were dealers
who said they were through with dealing
Every time you gave them shelter
I know that kind of man
It's hard to hold the hand of anyone
who is reaching for the sky just to surrender,
who is reaching for the sky just to surrender.
And then sweeping up the jokers that he left behind
you find he did not leave you very much
not even laughter
Like any dealer he was watching for the card
that is so high and wild
he'll never need to deal another
He was just some Joseph looking for a manger
He was just some Joseph looking for a manger
And then leaning on your window sill
he'll say one day you caused his will
to weaken with your love and warmth and shelter
And then taking from his wallet
an old schedule of trains, he'll say
I told you when I came I was a stranger
I told you when I came I was a stranger.
But now another stranger seems
to want you to ignore his dreams
as though they were the burden of some other
O you've seen that man before
his golden arm dispatching cards
but now it's rusted from the elbows to the finger
And he wants to trade the game he plays for shelter
Yes he wants to trade the game he knows for shelter.
Ah you hate to see another tired man
lay down his hand
like he was giving up the holy game of poker
And while he talks his dreams to sleep
you notice there's a highway
that is curling up like smoke above his shoulder.
It is curling just like smoke above his shoulder.
You tell him to come in sit down
but something makes you turn around
The door is open you can't close your shelter
You try the handle of the road
It opens do not be afraid
It's you my love, you who are the stranger
It's you my love, you who are the stranger.
Well, I've been waiting, I was sure
we'd meet between the trains we're waiting for
I think it's time to board another
Please understand, I never had a secret chart
to get me to the heart of this
or any other matter
When he talks like this
you don't know what he's after
When he speaks like this,
you don't know what he's after.
Let's meet tomorrow if you choose
upon the shore, beneath the bridge
that they are building on some endless river
Then he leaves the platform
for the sleeping car that's warm
You realize, he's only advertising one more shelter
And it comes to you, he never was a stranger
And you say ok the bridge or someplace later.
And then sweeping up the jokers that he left behind ...
And leaning on your window sill ...
I told you when I came I was a stranger.
Mira el video de clip de
The Stranger Song en YouTube: es hipnótico.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ocq_noEO2uU
Por cierto que estas canciones vienen en la banda sonora de "Los Vividores" (Mac Cabe & Ms. Miller), de Robert Altman (1971)
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0067411/
JoseAngel -
Alfonso Ansó -
when I was sick in bed.
I suppose that he told you everything
that I keep locked away in my head.
Your master took you travelling,
well at least that's what you said.
And now do you come back to bring
your prisoner wine and bread?
You met him at some temple, where
they take your clothes at the door.
He was just a numberless man in a chair
who'd just come back from the war.
And you wrap up his tired face in your hair
and he hands you the apple core.
Then he touches your lips now so suddenly bare
of all the kisses we put on some time before.
And he gave you a German Shepherd to walk
with a collar of leather and nails,
and he never once made you explain or talk
about all of the little details,
such as who had a worm and who had a rock,
and who had you through the mails.
Now your love is a secret all over the block,
and it never stops not even when your master fails.
And he took you up in his aeroplane,
which he flew without any hands,
and you cruised above the ribbons of rain
that drove the crowd from the stands.
Then he killed the lights in a lonely Lane
and, an ape with angel glands,
erased the final wisps of pain
with the music of rubber bands.
And now I hear your master sing,
you kneel for him to come.
His body is a golden string
that your body is hanging from.
His body is a golden string,
my body has grown numb.
Oh now you hear your master sing,
your shirt is all undone.
And will you kneel beside this bed
that we polished so long ago,
before your master chose instead
to make my bed of snow?
Your eyes are wild and your knuckles are red
and you're speaking far too low.
No I can't make out what your master said
before he made you go.
Then I think you're playing far too rough
for a lady who's been to the moon;
I've lain by this window long enough
to get used to an empty room.
And your love is some dust in an old man's cuff
who is tapping his foot to a tune,
and your thighs are a ruin, you want too much,
let's say you came back some time too soon.
I loved your master perfectly
I taught him all that he knew.
He was starving in some deep mystery
like a man who is sure what is true.
And I sent you to him with my guarantee
I could teach him something new,
and I taught him how you would long for me
no matter what he said no matter what you'd do.
I believe that you heard your master sing
while I was sick in bed,
I'm sure that he told you everything
I must keep locked away in my head.
Your master took you travelling,
well at least that's what you said,
And now do you come back to bring
your prisoner wine and bread?
(...)
I was handsome I was strong,
I knew the words of every song.
Did my singing please you?
No, the words you sang were wrong.
Who is it whom I address,
who takes down what I confess?
Are you the teachers of my heart?
We teach old hearts to rest.
Oh teachers are my lessons done?
I cannot do another one.
They laughed and laughed and said, Well child,
are your lessons done?
are your lessons done?
are your lessons done?
..............................
"Master, are my lessons done?"
Alfonso Ansó -
Antonio -
¡Un abrazo!