Paroles et traduction Roque Narvaja - Estaba en el Bar

Estaba en el Bar

Estaba en el bar,
Y me lamía las heridas,
Cuando apareció,
Solemne y prohibida.
Miraba sin ver,
Entre los dedos la colilla,
Se pidió un café,
Y no dejó propina.
Volvió al otro dia,
Con la garganta seca,
Tenia en los ojos
Un toque de tristeza.
Y la seguí,
Tratando de que no me viera,
Por averiguar,
Porqué familiar me era.
Nos metimos en las calles
De unos barrios de mierda,
Ella con paso firme,
Yo con la miraba alerta.
Tropecé con un cascote,
Ella se dio la vuelta,
Clavándome unos ojos duros,
Yo tendido en la vereda.
Me eché a correr,
En un ataque de vergüenza,
Ella gritó mi nombre
Y me quedé de piedra.
Y me oculté,
En un chaflán que hacía esquina,
Vino por detrás me dijo,
Me dijo no te rindas.
Me beso las manos,
Con cierta idolatría.
No son las del maestro, me dijo,
Pero sacan chispas,
Y me jugué una carta que no tenia,
Le dije ven, acuéstate a mi orilla.
Nos metimos en la cama,
Como en una parrilla,
Cociendonos a fuego lento,
Con destreza y maestría.
Sentimos las campanadas
De mi puntapié en herida,
Y en ese momento lloré,
Quien eres bendita mía.
Me acarició,
Con unas manos de ardilla.
Me dijo,
No me recuerdas mi amor,
Mi amor yo soy tu vida.

I Was in the Bar

I was in the bar,
And I was licking my wounds,
When she appeared,
Solemn and forbidden.
She was looking without seeing,
With a cigarette between her fingers,
She ordered a coffee,
And didn't leave a tip.
She came back the next day,
With a dry throat,
She had a touch of sadness
In her eyes.
And I followed her,
Trying not to be seen,
To find out,
Why she seemed familiar.
We walked into the streets
Of some shitty neighborhoods,
She walked with a firm step,
I watched her with my eyes open.
I stumbled upon a stone,
She turned around,
Staring at me with her hard eyes,
I was lying on the sidewalk.
I started running,
In an attack of embarrassment,
She called my name
And I was petrified.
And I hid,
In a chamfer that made a corner,
She came up from behind and said,
She said don't give up.
She kissed my hands,
With a certain idolatry.
They are not the master's, she said,
But they make sparks,
And I played a card I didn't have,
I said come, lie down by my side.
We got into bed,
Like on a grill,
Cooking ourselves over a slow fire,
With skill and mastery.
We felt the chimes
Of my kick in the wound,
And at that moment I cried,
Who are you my blessed one.
She caressed me,
With the hands of a squirrel.
She said,
Don't you remember me my love,
My love I am your life.