Posts Tagged ‘Antonio A. Ligero’

Jarcha’s “Nuestra Andalucía”


aceituneros (olive pickers)Jarcha is an Andalussian folk group, formed at Huelva in 1972 by Mª Isabel Martín, Lola Bon, Antonio A. Ligero, Ángel Corpa, Crisanto Martín, Gabi Travé y Rafael Castizo. Music bassed on traditional and folklore Andalussian music, with their own lyrics or of poets, Andalussian above all, such Rafael Alberti, Federico García Lorca, Salvador Távora, Miguel Hernández, Blas de Otero, etc. This song belongs to his first LP, Nuestra Andalucía (1974), and is writen and compossed by one of his members, Juan José Oña. It’s a song that talks about many of the troubles of Andalussia during those years: chieftainship (called in the south as señoritismo), poverty of the farm workers and fishermen, land speculation (because of tourism, many times), etc. Many of those problems last yet today…

Nuestra Andalucía

Son los olivos verdes de señoritos
que sudan gruesas gotas en los casinos,
mientras que allá en el campo, los labradores
han de regar la tierra con sus sudores.
Éste es el fruto:
sirve p’a darle al amo
todos los gustos.

Y son las verdes viñas de caballero
que en placeres de cama gastan dinero,
y recogen la uva vendimiadores
por las dos gordas que les dan los señores.
Por eso el fruto
sigue dándole al amo
todos los gustos.

Tienen los pescadores rotas las redes
de no poder secarlas donde ellos quieren,
porque sobre la arena los rascacielos
cambian a los turistas sol por dinero.
Los constructores
les darán la puntilla
a los pescadores.

Éste es el panorama de nuestra gente,
"que se quejan de vicio",
dice el pudiente (jejeje).
Con la renta per cápita que nos asignan
tenemos para ¡leche!, pan y sardina.

La moraleja:
los lamentos del pobre
siempre son quejas.

 

Our Andalussia

The green olive-trees are of the masters/ that sweat gross drop at the casinos,/ meanwhile out in the field, the farm workers/ must to water the soil with their sweat./ This is the fruit:/ it helps to give the owner/ every pleasure.// And the green vineyards are of sirs/ who in bed pleasures spend their money,/ and the grape are pciked by vintagers/ for the two coins the masters give them./ By that the fruit/ keeps giving to the owner/ every pleasure.// The fishermen have their nets broken/ of cannot dry them up where they want to,/ because upon the sand the skycrapers/ change sun for money to the tourists./ The constructors/ will give the final blow/ to the fishermen.// This is our people’s outlook,/ “that complain for the sake of it”,/ sais the wealthy man (hehehe)./ With the per capita income they assign us/ we have for milk, bread and sardine.// Moral: the poor’s laments/ are always grumbles.

Letra y música: Juan José Oña

http://www.jarcha.com/

Anuncios

“Los campanilleros”, Andalussian folk-song


“Los campanilleros” is an Andalussian dearest song. Originally, “Los campanilleros” was a Christmass song, but soon it had other connotations due to some lines of the song. A campanillero (maybe could be translated as bell-player) is a person who plays with others religious songs with guitars, bells and other instruments.

This is one of the most known versions:

En los pueblos de mi Andalucía
los campanilleros por la "madrugá"
me despiertan con sus campanillas
y con sus guitarras me hacen llorar.
Yo empiezo a cantar, …
y al oírme todos los pajarillos
que están en las ramas se echan a volar.

Pajarillos que vais por el campo,
seguid a la estrella, volad a Belén,
que os espera un niño chiquito
que el Rey de los Cielos y la Tierra es.
Volad a Belén, …
que os espera un niño chiquito,
que el Rey de los Cielos y la Tierra es.

En la noche de la Nochebuena,
bajo las estrellas y por la "madrugá"
los pastores, con sus campanillas,
adoran al Niño que ha nacido ya.
Y con devoción, …
van tocando zambombas, panderos,
cantando las coplas al Niño de Dios.

A la puerta de un rico avariento
llegó Jesucristo y limosna pidió,
y en lugar de darle una limosna
los perros que había se los azuzó.
Pero quiso Dios, …
que al momento los perros murieran
y el rico avariento pobre se quedó.

Si supieras la entrada que tuvo
el Rey de los cielos en Jerusalén
no quiso ni coches ni calesas,
sino un jumentito que "alquilao" fue.
Quiso demostrar, …
que las puertas divinas del cielo
tan solo las abre la Santa humildad.

In the villages of my Andalusia/ the campanilleros awake me/ at dawn/ and with their guitars make me cry./ I start to sing,/ and hearing me/ all the little birds/ that are in the branches go flying.// Little birds that go by the fields,/ follow the star, fly to Betlehem,/ for a little kid is waiting for you/ for he is the king of Heaven and earth.// In Christmass Eve/ under the stars and at dawn/ the sheepherds with their bells/ worship the now born Kid./ And with devotion…/ they go playing zambombas, tambourines,/ singing couples to God’s Child.// To an old miser man’s door/ came Jesuschrist and asked alms,/ and instead of give him alms, he bait the dogs he had./ But God wanted/ the dogs die at that moment/ and the old miser became poor.// If you knew the kind entry/ the King of Heaven had in Jerusalem,/ he didn’t want cars nor buggy,/ but a rented little donkey./ He wanted to prove/ that the Heaven Holy Gates/ only can be open by the Holy Humility.

 

JarchaMany singers, like the great “Niña de la Puebla”, and groups made a version of this folk-song. Between them I choose two.

Jarcha (that is the name of a mozarabian poetic form) was an Andalussian folk group from Huelva. Was formed in 1972 by María Isabel Martín, Lola Bon, Antonio A. Ligero, Ángel Corpa, Crisanto Martín, Gabi Travé and Rafael Castizo, although many members were changing. Jarcha’s music is Andalussian traditional songs, but with pop arranges. Jarcha also sung poems of Federico García Lorca, Rafael Alberti, Salvador Távora and Miguel Hernández. In his 1975 álbum, Andalucía vive (Andalusia is alive), Jarcha included this version of "Los campanilleros".

En la puerta de un rico avariento

llegó Jesucristo y limosna pidió,   
y en lugar de darle la limosna
los perros que había fue y se los echó.
Pero quiso Dios
que los perros de pronto murieran
y el rico avariento pobre se quedó.

Pajarillos que estáis en las ramas
buscando el amor y la libertad,
corre, ve y dile al hombre que quiero
que venga a mi reja por la ‘madrugá’.
Y cuando le vi,
una rosa de vivos colores
corté de su tallo y a él se la di.

En los campos de mi Andalucía
los campanilleros en la ‘madrugá’
me despiertan con sus campanillas
y con sus guitarras me hacen llorar.
Me hacen llorar…
Y al oírlo ‘tos’ los pajarillos
que están en las ramas se echan a volar.

To an old miser man’s door/ came Jesuschrist and asked alms,/ and instead of give him alms, he bait the dogs he had./ But God wanted/ the dogs die at that moment/ and the old miser became poor.// Little birds that are at the branches/ looking for love and freedom,/ run and go to tell the man that I want/ him to come to my fence door at dawn./ And when I saw him,/ I cut a colorful rose from its stalk/ and I gave it to him.// In the fields of my Andalusia/ the campanilleros at dawn/ they awake me with their little bells/ and with their guitars make me cry./ They make me cry…/ And when all the little birds that are in the branches hear it/ take a fly.

Cantar de la tierra mía trasera: Nuestro Pequeño Mundo Nuestro Pequeño Mundo (Our Little World) was a folk group born in 1968 under the auspiciuos of great folklorist and folksinger Joaquín Díaz. Its original members were Pilar Alonso "Pat", Laura Muñoz, Ignacio Sáenz de Tejada, Juan Alberto Arteche, Juan Ignacio Cuadrado, Chema Martínez, Jaime Ramiro y Gabriel Arteche: many of them were also musician in the recordings and recitals of many songwriters. NPM was one of the first group of that which is name is World Music: a band of interpreters of folk music from all around the world: Pete Seeger, Dubliners, Nina Simone, Kingston Trio; Peter, Paul & Mary; of Spanish songwriters like Lluís Llach, Serrat and Pablo Guerrero; and, of course, Spanish folk-songs. In his 1975’s album, Al amanecer (At dawn), included this wonderful version, with words of Jiménez Montesinos:

 

En los campos de mi Andalucía
los campanilleros en la madrugá
me despiertan con sus campanillas
y con sus guitarras me pongo a llorar.

Los gitanos que van por el monte,
cantando y bailando al amanecer
de mil soles que maduran el trigo
pudriendo el quejido de un viejo rabel,

suplicando al amor,
con las manos al cielo mirando
la frialdad del rocío
de un sabio cantor.

En la historia del mundo no ha habido
los gritos tan claros de una nación,
santiguando con agua bendita
las manos rojizas de un santo patrón

que reza al andar a las flores
de un campo marchito
cargadito de espinos
de amargo aguijón.

In the fields of my Andalusia/ the campanilleros at dawn/ they awake me with their little bells/ and with their guitars I start to cry.// The gypsys that go by the mount/ singing and dancing at dawn/ of a thousand suns that make mature the wheat/ rotting the mourn of an old rebec// begging to love/ with the hands to the sky looking/ the coldness of the dew/ from a wise singer.// In the history of world hasn’t been/ a nation’s so clear cries,/ making the sign of cross with holy water/ the red hands of a patron saint//  that pray as he walks to the flowers/ of a withered field/ loaded of hawthorns/ with bitter sting.

A %d blogueros les gusta esto: