Paroles et traduction Javier Krahe - Encefalogramas

Encefalogramas

Achaques y manías estorban mis trabajos y mis días
Sin duda las neuronas apenas dan de sí, ya cuarentonas
Me pierdo por las ramas, no sé ni qué cantar
Mis encefalogramas ondulan al azar
Me ocurre verbigracia que estoy tendido en una democracia
Con flores y un estanque y en esto viene y me acorrala un tanque
Y me grita un sargento: "Eh, tú, de frente, ¡Ar!"
Y todo es muy violento, me impide meditar
También me ocurre a veces que lego a Dios unas poquitas preces
Por ver si me lo gano, y se las queda el Banco Vaticano
Entonces me hago cruces y él me embarga el altar
Y me caigo de bruces en vez de levitar...
Y a veces, por ejemplo, me subo a un taburete y os contemplo
Y me entra un desconsuelo, que raudo, bajo a ver a una tal Chelo
Famosa por sus zonas erógenas sin par
Y tiene tricomonas, y qué os voy a contar...
Aquí es a dónde iba
Ya sé que esto del sexo es lo que os priba
El único horizonte de muchos que creéis
Que todo el monte de Venus es orgasmo y digno de elogiar.
Cual elogiaba Erasmo a los locos de atar.
Guerreros, dioses, damas, pasean por mis encefalogramas
Distintos por completo de los que me merecen un respeto
A excepción de la Chelo, que ya se va a curar
Son todos un camelo que habría que fumigar
La que no es fumigable es esa vieja dama infatigable
La pálida señora que diz que se presenta a última hora
Y diz que está en los huesos y nos hunde en la mar
"Tiradme un salvabesos", diz que se oye gritar...
Y nadie nos lo tira
El mundo, mientras tanto, gira y gira
Y gira y gira y gira, y en esto una hecatombe y ya no gira
Mi seso no penetra a qué tanto girar
Que yo os gire esta letra, eso es otro cantar
Es este que ahora escribo, por cierto, con un pie ya en el archivo
Urdido como en sueños, tramado con vocablos tan pequeños
Que si caen del cerebro, se pueden desnucar
A veces, con un quiebro, los intento burlar...

Encephalograms

Aches and manias get in the way of my work and my days
No doubt my neurons are barely up to it, now they're in their forties
I get lost in the branches, I don't even know what to sing
My encephalograms undulate at random
For example, it happens to me that I'm lying in a democracy
With flowers and a pond and in this comes and corners me a tank
And a sergeant shouts at me: "Hey, you, come on, Ar!"
And everything is very violent, it prevents me from meditating
It also happens to me sometimes that I bequeath to God a few short prayers
To see if I can earn it, and the Vatican Bank keeps it
Then I make crosses and he seizes my altar
And I fall on my face instead of levitating...
And sometimes, for example, I climb up on a stool and contemplate you
And I get such a heartbreak that, swiftly, I go down to see a certain Chelo
Famous for her unparalleled erogenous zones
And she has trichomonas, and what can I tell you...
This is where I was going
I know that this thing about sex is what deprives you
It's the only horizon for many who believe
That the entire Mount of Venus is an orgasm and worthy of praise.
Like Erasmus praised the mad ones worth tying.
Warriors, gods, ladies, stroll through my encephalograms
Completely different from those who deserve my respect
With the exception of Chelo, who is already going to be cured
They are all a hoax that should be fumgated
The one that is not fumigable is that tireless old lady
The pale lady who supposedly comes at the last hour
And they say she's all skin and bones and sinks us into the sea
"Throw me a lifesaver," they say she cries out...
And nobody throws her one
The world, meanwhile, turns and turns
And turns and turns and turns, and with that a hecatomb and it doesn't turn anymore
My senses don't understand why I turn so much
That I turn this lyrics for you, that's another song
This one that I am now writing, by the way, with one foot already in the archive
Thought up as if in dreams, plotted with words so tiny
That if they fall from the brain, they can break their necks
Sometimes, with a twist, I try to fool them...