Jelena Savic

I am a fuckn artist!

la falsa moneda February 6, 2009

Filed under: querida ai...concha buika — Jelena Savic @ 3:23 pm

Cruzaos los brazos pa’ no matarla cerraos los ojos pa’ no llorar,
temió ser débil y perdonarla y abrió las puertas de par en par.

With his arms crossed in order not kill her with his eyes closed for not to mourn,
He feared to be weak and forgive her and he opened the door wide.

Vete, mujer mala, vete de mi vera, rueda lo mismito que una maldición,
que un día me permita que el gache que quieras pague tus quereres, tus quereres pague
con una traición.

Go away, bad woman, go away from my side, wheel the same as a curse,
that one day it let me see the Andalusian you want
pay your loving, pay your loving with a betrayal.


Gitana, que tú serás como la falsa moneda, que de mano en mano va y ninguno se la queda,
Gypsy woman, you’ll be like the bogus money, that goes from one hand to another and none keep it

Besó los negros zarcillos finos que allí dejara cuando se fue.
Y aquellas trenzas de pelo endrino que en otro tiempo cortó pa’ él.

He kissed her black fine earring she left there when she went away
and that plaits made of black hair that she cut for him one day


Cuando se marchaba, no intentó ni verla, ni lanzó un quejio, ni le dijo adiós.
Entornó la puerta y, pa’ no llamarla, se clavó las uñas, se clavó las uñas, en el corazón.

When she was leaving, he didn’t try even to see her, neither made a groan, nor say her goodbye.
He half-clossed the door and to not call her, he sank his nails
he sank his nails, into his heart.

Gitana que tú serás como la falsa moneda que de mano en mano va y ninguno se la queda,
Gypsy woman, you’ll be like the bogus money, that goes from one hand to another and none keep it

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