Текст и перевод песни La Troba Kung-Fú - Calor calor

Calor calor

Calor, calor, falta calor
Acosta't una mica per favor.
Calor, calor, falta calor
Acosta't una mica per favor.
Calor, calor, falta calor
Acosta't una mica per favor.
Calor, calor, falta calor
Acosta't una mica per favor.
Calor, calor, falta calor
Acosta't una mica per favor.

Alcohol que en baixar ja no em crema
Que a l'entranya hi tinc una pedra
Pedra de gel feta de pena
Ja no li cau ni una llagrimeta
"Nano, tu ets jove", em diuen veuetes
Per veure els dies passar tan ràpid
Acaba el trago i aixeca la vista
I surt al carrer i busca qui t'estima.

Arriba un iaio ple de cabòries
Menjant cigarros i, a la meva olla,
Donant-me brasa sense profit
Sempre m'explica ai! deu mil històries
I em dic, que jo puc, que no sóc poruc
Però el fred de peus em fa sentir sirenes
Cada sirena pel que he perdut
A tots els trens els queda l'esquena
Que no m'esglaio, ni em falten vides
El fred em pela i m'esqueixa a tires.

Calor, calor, falta calor
Acosta't una mica per favor.
Calor, calor, falta calor
Acosta't una mica per favor.
Calor, calor, falta calor
Acosta't una mica per favor.
Calor, calor, falta calor
Acosta't una mica per favor.
Calor, calor, falta calor
Acosta't una mica per favor.

Però dins el gel el meu cor batega
Bombeja sang a ritme de fera
I el fred de peus ara pica al terra
I el Canigó ara se m'ha tornat cascada
I canto blues amb llengua bastarda
Perquè té mare però qui sap del pare
I donc gràcies perquè respiro
Vull estimar tot allò que miro

Calor, calor, falta calor
Acosta't una mica per favor.
Calor, calor, falta calor
Acosta't una mica per favor.
Calor, calor, falta calor
Acosta't una mica per favor.
Calor, calor, falta calor
Acosta't una mica per favor.
Calor, calor, falta calor
Acosta't una mica per favor.

Trobo el sereno al carrer mullat
és el tanguero de les altes hores
Que canta sol amb l'orquestra mora
I dóna avís del que escolta i senya
I dóna senya al niu de la pena
Que no hi ha roca que l'aigua no mogui
Que la cançó és per qui la canti
I la guitarra per qui la toqui
Que no m'esglaio ni em falten vides
Però no tinc fred ni m'esqueixo a tires

Calor, calor, quina calor que fa
Que ens haurem de despullar

Heat heat

Heat, heat, there's no heat
Lie down a little please.
Heat, heat, there's no heat
Lie down a little please.
Heat, heat, there's no heat
Lie down a little please.
Heat, heat, there's no heat
Lie down a little please.
Heat, heat, there's no heat
Lie down a little please.

Alcohol that no longer burns me when it goes down
Because I have a stone in my gut
A stone of ice made of grief
Not even a tear falls from it anymore
"Kid, you're young", little voices tell me
To see the days go by so fast
Finish your drink and look up
And go out on the street and look for someone who loves you.

An old man full of worries arrives
Eating cigars and, in my pot,
Giving me embers without profit
He always tells me oh! ten thousand stories
And I tell myself, that I can, that I'm not afraid
But the cold of my feet makes me hear sirens
Each siren for what I have lost
All the trains have their backs turned
That I don't slip, nor do I lack lives
The cold peels me and tears me to shreds.

Heat, heat, there's no heat
Lie down a little please.
Heat, heat, there's no heat
Lie down a little please.
Heat, heat, there's no heat
Lie down a little please.
Heat, heat, there's no heat
Lie down a little please.
Heat, heat, there's no heat
Lie down a little please.

But within the ice my heart beats
It pumps blood at the rhythm of a wild beast
And the cold of my feet now stings the ground
And the Canigó has now become a waterfall for me
And I sing the blues with a bastard tongue
Because it has a mother but who knows about the father
And so I give thanks because I breathe
I want to love everything I look at

Heat, heat, there's no heat
Lie down a little please.
Heat, heat, there's no heat
Lie down a little please.
Heat, heat, there's no heat
Lie down a little please.
Heat, heat, there's no heat
Lie down a little please.
Heat, heat, there's no heat
Lie down a little please.

I find the night watchman on the wet street
he is the tango dancer of the late hours
Who sings alone with the Moorish orchestra
And gives notice of what he hears and signals
And gives a signal to the nest of sorrow
That there is no rock that water does not move
That the song is for whoever sings it
And the guitar for whoever plays it
That I don't slip nor do I lack lives
But I'm not cold nor am I torn to shreds

Heat, heat, how hot it is
We'll have to undress