Paroles et traduction Brams - Marihuana berguedana

Marihuana berguedana

Aquí no hi ha marihuana,
No hi ha reggae ni ska,
Com a molt s'hi fa cànem
Que aparentment és clavat,
Però que a part que no col·loca
Fa venir un bon mal de cap.

Tant m'és jeure sota un pi
I no sota un cocoter,
Tant m'és que en lloc del Carib
Sigui el Llac de Graugés,
O que en comptes de taurons
Hi hagi ànecs i coloms.

El que emprenya és tot el dia
Que me'l passo envoltat
D'herbes que semblen maria,
Però que són un mal de cap,
De veure'n créixer pels marges,
I que n'hi hagi camps sembrats.

M'han dit que han enxampat,
-I faran cremar un camió-
D'herba que havia arribat
Per fer-nos oblidar el corcó
Que els cannabis berguedà
Fa sortir els canutos bords.

Em vaig vendre el que tenia,
Em van fer un crèdit al banc,
Em vaig endeutar de per vida,
I vaig comprar als Encants
Un ala-delta d'ocasió
I un llibre d'instruccions.

Vaig pujar dalt d'un turó
Proper on la policia
Era apunt de fotre foc
Als mil sacs de maria
I amb ella els nostres somnis
I les nostres alegries.

Em vaig llençar cap al zen,
Endinsant-me en la fumera,
Que entre núvols i estels
Va sortir de la foguera
On s'havia malaguanyat
Tants mais de felicitat.

Voltant pel verdós fum,
Tot volant i fent piruetes,
Gaudint d'aquell perfum
Se'm fonien les siluetes,
Allò era el paradís,
No es pot pas ser més feliç.

Enriallat d'orella a orella,
Fent loopings, tirabuixons,
Sentia els de baix com deien
"-Baja o disparo, cabrón"
- Doncs dispara, home dispara!
No em faràs tornar al teu món.

Quan només quedaven brases
Vaig cardar el camp cel enllà,
Vaig creuar rius i muntanyes
Vaig travessar la mar
I em semblava ser a Jamaica
Fins que em vaig despertar.

Seia sota d'un pi,
Vora del Llac de Graugés,
I em feien companyia
Quatre ànecs barroers
Tenia un sac de cànem,
Tenia un mai apagat
I molt, molt, molt mal de cap!

Berguedan Marijuana

There's no marijuana here,
No reggae or ska,
At most, they grow hemp
That apparently looks like it,
But apart from not getting you high
It gives you a good headache.

I don't care about lying under a pine tree
And not under a coconut tree,
I don't care that instead of the Caribbean
It's Lake Graugés,
Or that instead of sharks
There are ducks and pigeons.

What's annoying is all day
That I spend surrounded
By grasses that look like weed,
But they're a headache,
Of seeing it grow along the roads,
And that there are fields of it planted.

They told me they caught
-And they're going to burn a truck-
Of grass that had arrived
To make us forget the depression
That Berguedà cannabis
Makes the joints harsh.

I sold what I had,
They gave me a loan at the bank,
I went into debt for life,
And I bought at the flea market
A second-hand hang glider
And an instruction manual.

I went up to a hilltop
Near where the police
Were about to set fire to
The thousand bags of weed
And with it our dreams
And our joys.

I threw myself into the zen,
Entering the smoke,
Which between clouds and stars
Came out of the bonfire
Where it had been wasted
So much corn of happiness.

Flying around the greenish smoke,
Flying and tumbling,
Enjoying that perfume
My outlines melted,
That was paradise,
You can't be happier.

Beaming from ear to ear,
Doing loopings, tailspins,
I heard those below saying
"-Come down or I'll shoot, you bastard"
- Well, shoot, man, shoot!
You won't make me go back to your world.

When there were only embers left
I took to the skies,
I crossed rivers and mountains
I crossed the sea
And I thought I was in Jamaica
Until I woke up.

I was sitting under a pine tree,
Near Lake Graugés,
And I was accompanied by
Four rude ducks
I had a bag of hemp,
I had a never-ending joint
And a very, very bad headache!