Paroles et traduction María Elena Walsh - Manubrío Azul

Manubrío Azul

Un abuelo, un abuelo muy viejito
Por el parque se pasea con bastón.
No le importa si llegó la primavera,
Sólo espera cobrar la jubilación.
De repente, de repente se detiene
Y algo busca que se le perdió.
Mira al suelo, mira al cielo
Y mira alrededor.

Por dónde andará –manubrio azul–
Color de un triciclo del ayer.
Un juguete de pura nostalgia
Que a su infancia lo lleve otra vez,
Que se ponga a rodar para atrás
Hasta mil novecientos tres.

Por dónde andará –manubrio azul–
Relámpago de felicidad.
El abuelo se trepa a una hamaca,
Se desliza por el tobogán
Y cabalgando en el sube y baja
A su antigua niñez se va.

Por dónde andará –manubrio azul–
Amor que el olvido le robó.
El azul de su viejo triciclo
De repente lo halló en una flor,
Una flor que esperaba en el tiempo
Y sólo por él florece hoy.

Un abuelo, un abuelo muy viejito
Por el parque se pasea con bastón.
Sólo espera recobrar la primavera,
No le importa nada la jubilación.
De repente, de repente se detiene
A ponerse la flor en el ojal.
Ese algo que esperaba
No se marchitará.

Blue Handlebar

A grandfather, a very old grandfather
Strolls through the park with a cane.
He doesn't care if spring has arrived,
He only expects to collect his pension.
Suddenly, suddenly he stops
And looks for something he's lost.
He looks at the ground, looks at the sky
And looks around.

Where can it be –blue handlebar–
Colour of a tricycle from yesteryear.
A toy of pure nostalgia
That would take him to his childhood once more,
That would make him roll back
To nineteen hundred and three.

Where can it be –blue handlebar–
Lightning bolt of happiness.
The grandfather climbs onto a swing,
Slides down the slide
And riding on the see-saw
He goes to his ancient childhood.

Where can it be –blue handlebar–
Love that oblivion stole from him.
The blue of his old tricycle
He suddenly found it in a flower,
A flower that waited in time
And blooms today only for him.

A grandfather, a very old grandfather
Strolls through the park with a cane.
He only expects to recover spring,
He doesn't care about retirement.
Suddenly, suddenly he stops
To put the flower in his buttonhole.
Something he had been waiting for
Will not wither.