English translation of Ay Carmela by Joaquín Sabina. What does Ay Carmela mean in english
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HOME > JOAQUíN SABINA > AY CARMELA in ENGLISH
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Ay Carmela by Joaquín Sabina (original lyric)



Ay Carmela, me duelen tus ojos,
sembrando rastrojos
canela en la nieve.
Como dos carabelas,
tan pintas, tan niñas, tan leves.

Minifalda,
con bici a la espalda
y nariz indiscreta,
poco más que decir.
Urge sobrevivir,
te mereces un novio poeta

No me pidas que muera por tí
lo que queda de mí
se subasta a la mejor postora
como un parco motín
en el barco ruín de la aurora.

No me obligues a hacerte la ola
sigue sola tu camino
al fin y al cabo ni sé ni sabo
cuánto nos cobra el destino.

En los bares del foro
rompías el guión
de una peli con final feliz.
No había rubia, en el coro
más loro ni más Norma Jean.

Y después de la feria y el cole,
la histeria y el miedo;
si te da por contar
hombros donde llorar
va a sobrarte una mano y seis dedos.

No me canso de hablarte
aunque pronto mi voz
suene a grano de arroz repetido
y desampararte es jugar
a los fuegos de azar del olvido.

Nada amanece, todo envejece,
plancha tu velo de tul.
Tal vez mañana a tu ventana
llamé otro príncipe azul.

Y no sé de qué modo,
dejar de adorarte sin duelo
entre nunca y quién sabe.
Cuando quemes tus naves
no me pierdas las llaves del cielo.

Ay Carmela by Joaquín Sabina (english translation)



Ay Carmela, your eyes hurt,
planting stubble
cinnamon in the snow.
Like two caravels,
so painted, so girls, so slight.

Mini skirt,
with a bike on his back
and indiscreet nose,
Little more to say.
It is urgent to survive,
you deserve a boyfriend poet

Do not ask me to die for you
what's left of me
it is auctioned to the best bidder
like a riot
on the ruinous ship of the aurora.

Do not force me to make you the wave
follow your path alone
after all I do not even know
how much fate charges us.

In the forum bars
you broke the script
of a movie with a happy ending.
There was no blonde, in the choir
more parrot nor more Norma Jean.

And after the fair and the cole,
hysteria and fear;
if it gives you to tell
shoulders where cry
It's going to spare you one hand and six fingers.

I never tire of talking to you
although soon my voice
sound like repeated rice grain
and to give up is to play
to the fires of chance of oblivion.

Nothing dawns, everything ages,
iron your veil of tulle.
Maybe tomorrow to your window
I called another Prince Charming.

And I do not know in what way,
stop worshiping you without a duel
between never and who knows.
When you burn your ships
Do not miss the keys of heaven.




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