Paroles et traduction EBRI KNIGHT - Tot Enrere

Tot Enrere

Vas venir enmig d′homes valents
Trontollant sobre d'un camió
Amb una fotografia vella
I llibres al sarró
Però a la nit quan acluques els ulls
Com si els dies no haguessin passat
Treus del fons del sarró tot allò
Que havies amagat
Però t′has llevat
I has tornat a la trinxera
Que ho has deixat
Pel teu somni tot enrere
Han tornat els carrers i els mercats
Les riades baixant pels vorals
El camí de l'escola a casa
Esquivant els bassals
Has vist de nou les fulles caient
El tramvia robust i vermell
I el taller on vas aprendre l'ofici
I el teatre vell
Però t′has llevat
I has tornat a la trinxera
Que ho has deixat
Pel teu somni tot enrere
Han tornat els roures i els xiprers
I el safareig i la bassa brillants
A l′agost de collir móres negres
Amb els teus germans
Les ballades de festa major
Crits de ràbia davant del patró
Matinades i dies de vaga
I de revolució
Però t'has llevat
I has tornat a la trinxera
Que ho has deixat
Pel teu somni tot enrere
Ja mai més dormiràs com un nen
Romandràs ja per sempre despert
Que ara ja no ets més que un gra de sorra
Enmig del desert
I del foc que ara et crema per dins
Dins la terra deixaràs escrit
Que avancem sempre amb el vent en contra
Fins a l′últim crit
Però t'has llevat
I has tornat a la trinxera
Que ho has deixat
Pel teu somni tot enrere

Tot Enrere

You came among valiant men
Swaying aboard a truck
With an old photograph
And books in your satchel
But at night when you close your eyes
As if the days had not passed
You take from the bottom of the satchel all that
You had hidden
But you have gotten up
And have returned to the trench
That you have left
For your dream, all back there
The streets and markets have returned
The floods flowing down the gutters
The way from school to home
Dodging the puddles
You have seen the leaves falling again
The robust and red tram
And the workshop where you learned your trade
And the old theater
But you have gotten up
And have returned to the trench
That you have left
For your dream, all back there
The oaks and cypresses have returned
And the washhouse and the pond are shiny
In August to gather blackberries
With your siblings
The ballads of the town festival
Cries of rage in front of the patron
Matinees and days of strike
And of revolution
But you have gotten up
And have returned to the trench
That you have left
For your dream, all back there
You will never sleep like a child again
You will remain forever awake
For now you are nothing more than a grain of sand
In the middle of the desert
And from the fire that now burns inside you
Within the earth you will leave written
That we always advance against the headwind
To the last cry
But you have gotten up
And have returned to the trench
That you have left
For your dream, all back there