Текст и перевод песни Emmanuel - La Última Luna (MTV Unplugged)

La Última Luna (MTV Unplugged)

La septima luna
era aquella del Luna Park
el crepusculo avanzaba
de la feria al bar
mientras tanto el angel Santo blasfemaba
la polucion que respiraba
musculoso pero fragil.
Pobre angel, pobres alas.
La sexta luna
era el alma de un desgraciado
que maldecia el haber nacido,
pero sonreia.
Cuatro noches sin haber cenado
con las manos, con las manos,
manchadas de carbon.
Tocaba el pecho una señora
y manchaba y reia
creyendose el patron.
La quinta luna
daba tanto miedo
era la cabeza de una dama
que sintiendo la muerte cercana
el billar jugaba.
Era grande y elegante,
no era joven, no era vieja
tal vez enferma
seguramente estaba enferma
porque sangraba un poco por la oreja.
La cuarta luna
era una cuerda de un prisioneros
que caminando, seguia los rieles
de un tren viejo.
Tenia los pies ensangrentados
y las manos, y las manos, y las manos
sin sus guantes,
pero no te alarmes
el cielo esta sereno
y no hay bastantes prisioneros.
La tercera luna
salieron todos a mirarla
era, era asi de grande
que mas de uno penso en el Padre Eterno.
Se secaron las risas, y
se fundieron las luces
y comenzo el infierno,
la gente huyo a su casa
porque por una noche
regreso el invierno.
La segunda luna
el panico sembro entre los gitanos,
hubo alguno que incluso
se amputo un dedo.
Otros fueron hacia el banco
a hacer alguna operacion,
pero que confusion,
la mayor parte de ellos
con sus hijos y sus perros
corrieron a la estacion.
La ultima luna
la vio solo un recien nacido
con ojos hondos, negros, redondos
y no lloraba
con grandes alas tomo la luna
entre sus manos, entre sus manos.
Salio volando por la ventana
era el hombre del mañana.
Salio volando por la ventana...

The Last Moon (MTV Unplugged)

The seventh moon
was the one at Luna Park
twilight was advancing
from the fair to the bar
meanwhile the angel Saint blasphemed
the pollution he breathed
muscular but fragile.
Poor angel, poor wings.
The sixth moon
was the soul of a wretch
who cursed being born,
but smiled.
Four nights without having dined
with his hands, with his hands,
stained with coal.
A lady touched his chest
and stained and laughed
thinking she was the boss.
The fifth moon
was so scary
it was the head of a lady
who feeling death approaching
played billiards.
She was tall and elegant,
she was not young, she was not old
maybe sick
she was surely sick
because she bled a little from her ear.
The fourth moon
was a prisoner's rope
who walking, followed the rails
of an old train.
His feet were bloody
and his hands, and his hands, and his hands
without their gloves,
but don't be alarmed
the sky is serene
and there are not enough prisoners.
The third moon
everyone went out to see it
it was, it was so big
that more than one thought of the Eternal Father.
Laughter dried up, and
the lights melted
and hell began,
people fled to their homes
because for one night
winter returned.
The second moon
sowed panic among the gypsies,
there were some who even
amputated a finger.
Others went to the bank
to do some operation,
but what confusion,
most of them
with their children and their dogs
ran to the station.
The last moon
was seen only by a newborn
with deep, black, round eyes
and he did not cry
with large wings he took the moon
in his hands, in his hands.
He flew out the window
he was the man of tomorrow.
He flew out the window...