30 June 2009. Gray sky...
Young couple, the dance--el triunfo--moving from a world of smiles and friends and dedications into a kind of enchantment--an unending awareness...and then return...
Triunfo de la llanura
He cambiado la rosa,
rosa precisa,
y me queda la vida,
la palomita,
la vida de la gente
que necesita
lo torcacita.
Me llegó la llanura
con horizonte,
desde el pie a la cintura
y todo el monte.
Los nidos me crecieron, las leñateras,
la vida entera.
Yo soy aquel que sufre
con la madera
los surcos, los inviernos,
la primavera.
Caramba con el triunfo
que no me deja
decir que siento mucho
que yo me muera,
la primavera.
La ternura me crece
país por medio,
este rulo de aire
que bailo y quedo,
que quedo y no me quedo
y si no puedo
es que me muero.
La paciencia es un arbol,
la casaurina,
es un té curativo,
un sapo al viento.
Caramba con la suerte
la rosa antigua
y que yo viva.
* * *
I have exchanged the rose
the very rose
and still I live on
little dove
the life of the people
that so need
the small dove.
The open plains have reached me
the horizon
from my feet to my waist
and all the open country.
The nests have flourished, the wood gatherers
all of life.
I am the one who suffers
with the wood
the furrows, the winters
the spring.
Caramba for the triunfo
that doesn't let me
say that I regret so much
that I may die,
the spring.
My affection increases
all across the land
this roll of air
that I dance and pause
pausing and moving again
and if I'm not able
it's that I die.
Patience is a tree
the casaurina,
a tea that cures
a country frog facing the breeze.
Caramba for this luck
this ancient rose
and that I live.
(Triunfo of the Open Plains, a song by Hamlet Lima Quintana)
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