Текст и перевод песни Tania Libertad - La Paloma - En Vivo

La Paloma - En Vivo

No es verdad que el mundo está todo descubierto
El mundo no es solo la geografía con sus valles y montañas
Sus ríos y sus lagos, sus planicies, los grandes mares
Las ciudades y las calles, los desiertos que ven pasar el tiempo
El tiempo que nos ve pasar a todos

El mundo es, también, las voces humanas
Ese milagro de la palabra que se repite todos los días
Como una corona de sonidos viajando en el espacio
Muchas de esas voces cantan, algunas cantan verdaderamente

La primera vez que oí cantar a Tania Libertad
Tuve la revelación de las alturas de la emoción
A que puede llevarnos una voz desnuda
Sola delante del mundo
Sin ningún instrumento que la acompañara

Tania cantaba, a capella: La Paloma de Rafael Alberti
Y cada nota acariciaba una cuerda de mi sensibilidad
Hasta el deslumbramiento
José Saramago

Se equivocó, la paloma
Se equivocaba
Por ir al norte, fue al sur
Creyó que el trigo era agua
Se equivocaba

Creyó que el mar era el cielo
Que la noche, la mañana
Se equivocaba, se equivocaba
Que las estrellas, rocío
Que la calor, la nevada
Se equivocaba, se equivocaba

Que tu falda era su blusa
Que tu corazón, su casa
Se equivocaba, se equivocaba

Ella se durmió en la orilla
O en la cumbre de una rama
Se equivocaba, se equivocaba
Se equivocaba

Muchas gracias

The Dove - Live

It is not true that the world has been completely discovered
The world is not just the geography with its valleys and mountains
Its rivers and lakes, its plains, the vast seas
The cities and the streets, the deserts that see time pass
The time that sees us all pass

The world is also the human voices
That miracle of the word that is repeated every day
Like a crown of sounds traveling in space
Many of those voices sing, some sing truly

The first time I heard Tania Libertad sing
I had a revelation of the heights of emotion
Where a naked voice can take us
Alone before the world
Without any instrument to accompany her

Tania sang a capella: Rafael Alberti's Dove
And each note caressed a chord of my sensibility
To the point of being dazzled
José Saramago

The dove was mistaken
It was wrong
In going north, it went south
It thought the wheat was water
It was wrong

It thought the sea was the sky
That night was morning
It was wrong, it was wrong
That the stars were dew
That the heat was the snow
It was wrong, it was wrong

That your skirt was your blouse
That your heart was its home
It was wrong, it was wrong

It fell asleep on the shore
Or on the top of a branch
It was wrong, it was wrong
It was wrong

Thank you very much