Paroles et traduction Anton Goosen - Silver de Lange

Silver de Lange

Die konsertina kerm al sy verlange,
In die hande van ou Silver de Lange
Hy't gespeel van die liefde, maar hy was 'n eensame man
Ja, ou Silver hy't die pad alleen

Geloop, en gedwaal soos net 'n swerwer kan
Dalk 'n bottel in die hand om die wêreld se skerpkant, weg te brand
Dis 'n geleende konsertina vir 'n arm
Man, wat kon speel beter as 'n ander kan

As die Vyf-Dagbrekers op die radio grammofoon speel
O, dan wonder ek baie oor jou Silver,
Daar's so baie wat ons twee kon deel
Maar die konsertina's nou jou weduwee, en jou hande het afgetree

O, speel hom, Silver, speel hom weer

Speel hom Silver, nog 'n keer
En die konsertina kerm verlange in die hande van Silver
Silver de Lange ...
En kom die paaie van die ou musikante,

By die kruising van die hemel se rante
En 'n man hoef nie meer vir 'n sjieling op 'n dag te speel
En ek wonder hoe baie baie harte, het ou Silver in sy lewe gesteel

Maar die konsertina's nou sy weduwee, hy't sy hart net vir haar gegee
En watter vrou het gekyk in jou oë se blou,
As jou vingers om die wheatstone se note vou
Wie't die hartseer man, teen haar bors getroos

Ja, die wêreld's nog dieselfde,

Ou Silver, hy's hard en hy's voos en hy's boos
Het jy alleen gespeel en musiek
Gemaak, toe jou hande aan die stilte raak?
O, speel hom, Silver, speel hom weer
Speel hom Silver, nog 'n keer
En die konsertina kerm verlange in die hande van Silver
Silver de Lange ...
O, speel hom, Silver, speel hom weer
Speel hom Silver, nog 'n keer
En die konsertina kerm verlange in die hande van Silver
Silver de Lange.

Silver de Lange

Ah, my dear, the concertina moans with desire,
In the hands of old Silver de Lange.
He would play of love, but was a lonely man
Yes, old Silver, he walked that road alone

A rover, a wanderer, lost as he roamed
Perhaps a bottle in his hand to smooth the sharp angles of the world.
That concertina was a companion to a poor
Man who could play like no other.

When the Five Day Breakers play on the radio gramophone,
Oh darling, I wonder how you are, Silver.
There is so much we could have shared,
But now the concertina is your widow and your hands have retired.

Oh, play it, Silver, play it again,

Play it, Silver, one more time.
And the concertina moans with longing in the hands of Silver
Silver de Lange ...
And somewhere the paths of old musicians meet

At the crossroads of heaven's edge.
And a man does not have to play for a shilling a day.
I wonder how many hearts did old Silver steal?

But the concertina is his widow, he gave his heart only to her.
And what woman looked in your blue eyes
As your fingers danced over the wheatstone?
Who comforted the sorrowful man?

The world is still the same.

Old Silver, he's hardened, he's mean and he's bitter.
Did you play alone and create music
When your hands touched the silence?
Oh, play it, Silver, play it again.
Play it, Silver, one more time.
And the concertina moans with longing in the hands of Silver
Silver de Lange ...
Oh, play it, Silver, play it again,
Play it, Silver, one more time.
And the concertina moans with longing in the hands of Silver
Silver de Lange.