Текст и перевод песни Joan Manuel Serrat - Perdut en la Ciutat

Perdut en la Ciutat

Deixares el mas sense acomiadar-te de ningú i des de llavors mai més no hem sabut res de tu. Em va dir la dona del de la tafona, que per Barcelona vas fent. I baixí a trobar-te cansat d'esperar-te i d'escriure cartes al vent. Infructuosament busco els teus ulls blaus per tot arreu. De remenar la ciutat, en trec un mal de peus. No sé, ho pots ben creure, si caminar o seure. Per más que et vull veure no et veig. Als de la muntanya la ciutat estranya ens causa migranya i mareig. Ep... Sóc jo. Que no em sents...? Perdut en la ciutat, només vull saber su estàs bé. Si t'agrada el mar. Ep... Sóc jo. Que no em sents...? Què he de fer amb el gat que amb les presses vas deixar-te, com a mi, oblidat? Engego coloms missatgers però perdem el rumb. Encend un foc al terrat u faig senyals de fum. Però un cop d'oratge barreja el llenguatge i escampa el missatge per cel. Cruel la fortuna bufa i se'n riu, d'una rescatada lluna de mel. Omplo una ampolla amb versos d'amor i dol per tu i la llanço al mar pregant l'ajuda de Neptú però una ona fera l'esclafa amb fal-lera contra l'escullera del moll i veig com naufraga una altra vegada l'esperança errada del foll. Ep... Sóc jo. Que no em sents...? Perdut en la ciutat, només vull saber su estàs bé. Si t'agrada el mar. Ep... Sóc jo. Que no em sents...? Què he de fer amb el gat que amb les presses vas deixar-te, com a mi, oblidat? Demà de matí, vençuts, tornarem el gat i jo on les gallines no ponen i les geranis no fan flor. On sense alegria em troben els dies mirant-me la via del tren. Em dol, a la butxaca, la foto, tan maca, de tu, jo, la vaca i el nen. Ep... Sóc jo. Que no em sents...? No em sents...? No em sents...?
PERDIDO EN LA CIUDAD
Dejaste la masía sin despedirte de nadie y desde entonces no hemos vuelto a saber de ti. Me dijo la mujer del de la almanzara que por Barcelona vas tirando. Y bajé a buscarte cansado de esperarte y de escribir cartas al viento. Infructuosamente busco tus ojos azules por todas partes. Rebuscar en la ciudad me da dolor de pies. No sé, puedes creerme, si andar o sentarme. Por más que deseo verte no te veo, A los de la montaña la ciudad extraña nos causa migraña y mareo. Eh... Soy yo ¿No me oyes...? Perdido en la ciudad, sólo quiero saber si estás bien. Si te gusta el mar. Eh... Soy yo ¿No me oyes...? ¿Qué tengo que hacer con el gato que con las prisas te dejaste, como a mí, olvidado? Suelto palomas mensajeras pero pierden el rumbo. Enciendo un fuego en la azotea y hago señales de humo. Pero un golpe de viuento revuelve el lenguaje y desperdiga el mensaje por el cielo. Cruel la fortuna sopla y se ríe de una rescatada luna de miel. Lleno una botella de versos de amor y duelo por ti y la lanzo al mar rogando la ayuda de Neptuno pero una ola fiera la rompe con ganas contra el rompeolas del muello y veo como naufraga otra vez la esperanza errada del loco. Eh... Soy yo ¿No me oyes...? Perdido en la ciudad, sólo quiero saber si estás bien. Si te gusta el mar. Eh... Soy yo ¿No me oyes...? ¿Qué tengo que hacer con el gato que con las prisas te dejaste, como a mí, olvidado? Mañana por la mañana, vencidos, regresaremos el gato y yo allí donde las gallinas no ponen y los geranios no dan flor. Donde sin alegría me encuentran los días mirando la vía del tren. Me duele, en el bolsillo, la foto, tan bonita, de ti, de mí, la vaca y el niño. Eh... Soy yo ¿No me oyes...? ¿No me oyes...? ¿No me oyes...?

Lost in the City

You left the farmhouse without saying goodbye to anyone, and since then, we haven't heard a word from you. The miller's wife told me you were making your way through Barcelona. So I came down to find you, tired of waiting and writing letters to the wind. I search fruitlessly for your blue eyes everywhere. Scouring the city gives me aching feet. I don't know, you can believe me, whether to walk or sit. As much as I want to see you, I can't. For us mountain folk, the strange city gives us migraines and dizziness. Hey... It's me. Can't you hear me...? Lost in the city, I just want to know if you're okay. If you like the sea. Hey... It's me. Can't you hear me...? What should I do with the cat you left behind in your haste, forgotten, like me? I release carrier pigeons, but they lose their way. I light a fire on the roof and make smoke signals. But a gust of wind scrambles the language and scatters the message across the sky. Cruel fate blows and laughs at a salvaged honeymoon. I fill a bottle with verses of love and grief for you and throw it into the sea, praying for Neptune's help, but a fierce wave smashes it angrily against the breakwater of the pier, and I see how the misguided hope of the fool is shipwrecked once more. Hey... It's me. Can't you hear me...? Lost in the city, I just want to know if you're okay. If you like the sea. Hey... It's me. Can't you hear me...? What should I do with the cat you left behind in your haste, forgotten, like me? Tomorrow morning, defeated, the cat and I will return to where the hens don't lay and the geraniums don't bloom. Where the days find me joylessly, watching the train tracks. In my pocket, the photo hurts, so beautiful, of you, me, the cow, and the child. Hey... It's me. Can't you hear me...? Can't you hear me...? Can't you hear me...?
LOST IN THE CITY
You left the farmhouse without saying goodbye to anyone, and since then, we haven't heard a word from you. The woman from the olive oil mill told me you were making your way through Barcelona. So I came down to find you, tired of waiting and writing letters to the wind. I search fruitlessly for your blue eyes everywhere. Searching the city gives me aching feet. I don't know, you can believe me, whether to walk or sit. As much as I want to see you, I can't. For us mountain folk, the strange city gives us migraines and dizziness. Hey... It's me. Can't you hear me...? Lost in the city, I just want to know if you're okay. If you like the sea. Hey... It's me. Can't you hear me...? What should I do with the cat you left behind in your haste, forgotten, like me? I release carrier pigeons, but they lose their way. I light a fire on the rooftop and make smoke signals. But a gust of wind scrambles the language and scatters the message across the sky. Cruel fate blows and laughs at a salvaged honeymoon. I fill a bottle with verses of love and grief for you and throw it into the sea, praying for Neptune's help, but a fierce wave smashes it angrily against the breakwater of the pier, and I see how the misguided hope of the fool is shipwrecked once more. Hey... It's me. Can't you hear me...? Lost in the city, I just want to know if you're okay. If you like the sea. Hey... It's me. Can't you hear me...? What should I do with the cat you left behind in your haste, forgotten, like me? Tomorrow morning, defeated, the cat and I will return to where the hens don't lay and the geraniums don't bloom. Where the days find me joylessly, watching the train tracks. In my pocket, the photo hurts, so beautiful, of you, me, the cow, and the child. Hey... It's me. Can't you hear me...? Can't you hear me...? Can't you hear me...?