Текст и перевод песни Joan Manuel Serrat - Els Vells Amants

Els Vells Amants

Els seus cabells el temps ha tornat blancs.
Les seves mans, nervioses i arrugades.
Els seus cabells el temps ha tornat blancs,
I un xic més trista la seva mirada.

S′estimen com jo voldria ser estimat,
(Si els costums que segueixo ho permeten).
S'estimen com jo voldria ser estimat,
Quan la esperança comenci a estar seca.

I s′agafen les mans,
Els vells amants.
I recorden, com ahir,
Les flors que van collir.

I s'agafen les mans
Els vells amants.
Es miren i ho saben tot,
No els cal dir res, cap mot.

On els vells viuen es va aturar el temps,
Amb el retrat que a la pared penja.
On els vells viuen es va aturar el temps,
Després que es varem casar aquell diumenge.

La ràdio antiga i el rellotge gran
I el cobretaula carregat de randes.
La ràdio antiga i el rellotge gran,
Que encara sona d'hora en hora amb mandra.

I s′agafen les mans,
Els vells amants.
I es bressolen cada nit
Com dos infants petits.

I s′agafen les mans
Els vells amants.
I es pregunten: Estàs bé?
Avui no et fa mal res...?

I per Sant Jordi ell li compra una rosa,
Embolicada amb paper de plata.
I per Sant Jordi ell li compra una rosa,
Mai no ha oblidat aquesta data...

I pels carrers s'han perdut els amants.
No tenen por, no tenen pressa.
I pels carrers s′han perdut els amants,
Amb una flor i la seva tendressa...

Old Lovers

Time has turned her hair white.
Her hands are nervous and wrinkled.
Time has turned her hair white,
And her eyes a little sadder.

They love each other like I'd like to be loved,
(If the customs I follow allow it).
They love each other like I'd like to be loved,
When hope begins to dry up.

And they hold hands,
The old lovers.
And they remember, as if it were yesterday,
The flowers they picked.

And they hold hands
The old lovers.
They look at each other and know it all,
They don't need to say anything, no words.

Time stopped in the place where the old people live,
With the portrait hanging on the wall.
Time stopped in the place where the old people live,
After we got married that Sunday.

The old radio and the big clock
And the tablecloth covered in lace.
The old radio and the big clock,
That still rings lazily on the hour.

And they hold hands,
The old lovers.
And they rock each night
Like two little children.

And they hold hands
The old lovers.
And they ask each other: Are you okay?
Are you free from pain today...?

And on St. George's Day, he buys her a rose,
Wrapped in silver paper.
And on St. George's Day, he buys her a rose,
He has never forgotten that date...

And the lovers have been lost in the streets.
They have no fear, no hurry.
And the lovers have been lost in the streets,
With a flower and their tenderness...