Encenalls - Els Pets перевод на английский

Encenalls

Després del funeral
El fill torna a ciutat,
Creix l'herba del bancal
D'un tros abandonat.

El mas, un munt de runa
Sota l'esbarzeram,
De nit, quan surt la lluna
Son mantell cobreix el camp.

Ningú no s'hi coneix
En aquest poble antic
On lent tot s'abalteix,
No hi queda cap amic.

Els mots guardats encara
Dins un calaix balder
D'estiu a la vesprada
Fan rotllana al meu carrer.
Cremant vells encenalls
I el trastam que ara ens fa nosa
Trobant amagatalls
D'una tarda plujosa.
Vestits de joia i retalls,
De vida lluminosa.
Ballant de nou als balls
Com qui no vol la cosa.

Records que són recers
Quan queda poc camí.
L'enyor, com els brasers
Escalfa l'avenir.
Tot fuig menys la neuràlgia
D'un món sense retorn,
Som l'ara o la nostàlgia
O el demà que espera el torn?

Cremant vells encenalls
I el trastam que ara ens fa nosa,
Trobant amagatalls
D'una tarda plujosa.
Vestits de joia i retalls
De vida lluminosa
Ballant de nou als balls
Com qui no vol la cosa.
Cremant vells encenalls
I el trastam que ara ens fa nosa,
Trobant amagatalls
D'una tarda plujosa.
Vestits de joia i retalls
De vida lluminosa
Ballant de nou als balls,

Com qui no vol la cosa,
Com qui no vol la cosa.

Encenalls

After the funeral
The son returns to town,
The grass grows in the garden bed
Of a piece of abandoned land.

The farmhouse, a pile of rubble
Under the brambles,
At night, when the moon rises
Its mantle covers the field.

No one knows anyone
In this ancient village
Where everything fades slowly,
There are no friends left.

The words kept still
Inside an old drawer
On a summer evening
Roll through my street.
Burning old embers
And the clutter that bothers us now
Finding hiding places
On a rainy afternoon.
Dressed in jewels and scraps,
Of a luminous life.
Dancing again at the dances
Like someone who doesn't want trouble.

Memories that are supports
When there's little way to go.
Longing, like braziers
Warms the future.
Everything flees except the neuralgia
Of a world without return,
Are we the now or the nostalgia
Or the tomorrow that awaits its turn?

Burning old embers
And the clutter that bothers us now,
Finding hiding places
On a rainy afternoon.
Dressed in jewels and scraps
Of a luminous life
Dancing again at the dances
Like someone who doesn't want trouble.
Burning old embers
And the clutter that bothers us now,
Finding hiding places
On a rainy afternoon.
Dressed in jewels and scraps
Of a luminous life
Dancing again at the dances,

Like someone who doesn't want trouble,
Like someone who doesn't want trouble.