Lyrics and translation Chabuca Granda - Puente de los Suspiros

Puente de los Suspiros

Puentecito escondido entre ramajes y entre añoranzas
Puentecito tendido sobre la herida de una quebrada
Retoñan pensamientos
Tus maderos se aferra el corazón a tus balaustres

Puentecito dormido, y entre murmullos de la querencia
Abrazado a recuerdos, barrancos y escalinatas
Puente de los suspiros, quiero que guardes en tu grato silencio
Mi confidencia

Es mi puente, un poeta que me espera
Con su quieta madera cada tarde, y suspira y suspiro
Me recibe y le dejo solo, sobre su herida, su quebrada
Y las viejas consejas van contando

De la injusta distancia del amante
Sus arrestos vencidos
Vencidos por los ficus
De enterradas raíces, en su amada

Es mi puente, un poeta que me espera
Con su quieta madera cada tarde, y suspira y suspiro
Me recibe y le dejo solo, sobre su herida, su quebrada
Y las viejas consejas van contando

De la injusta distancia del amante
Sus arrestos vencidos
Vencidos por los ficus
De enterradas raíces, en su amada

Puentecito dormido, y entre el murmullo de la querencia
Abrazado a recuerdos, barrancos y escalinatas
Puente de los suspiros, quiero que guardes en tu grato silencio
Mi confidencia

Bridge of Sighs

Dear hidden bridge among the foliage and nostalgia
Dear bridge stretched over the wound of a stream
Thoughts reverberate
My heart holds fast to your wooden beams, to your balustrades

Dear sleeping bridge, among the whispers of longing
Embraced by memories, hillsides and stairs
Bridge of Sighs, I want you to keep my secret hidden in your comforting silence
My confession

It is my bridge, a poet who waits for me
With its quiet wood every afternoon, and sighs and my sighs
It welcomes me and I leave it alone, over its wound, its stream
And the old stories go on recounting

Of the unjust distance of the lover
His conquests defeated
Defeated by the fig trees
With buried roots, in his beloved

It is my bridge, a poet who waits for me
With its quiet wood every afternoon, and sighs and my sighs
It welcomes me and I leave it alone, over its wound, its stream
And the old stories go on recounting

Of the unjust distance of the lover
His conquests defeated
Defeated by the fig trees
With buried roots, in his beloved

Dear sleeping bridge, and among the murmur of longing
Embraced by memories, hillsides and stairs
Bridge of Sighs, I want you to keep my secret hidden in your comforting silence
My confession