In their 1980’s LP, Plazarik Plaza, the Basque folk group Oskorri pay a tribute to the great Chilean songwriter and singer Violeta Parra, using the melody of one of her last songs, “Cantores que reflexionan”, but with the words of homage writen by Natxo de Felipe, the lyricist and principal singer of the group. Later, the song was included in a compilatory Alemanian euskaraz (Talking Basque in Germany), in the seal Folk Freak – Pläne. First, this is Violeta Parra’s orginal song:
Cantores que reflexionan
En la prisión de la ansiedad
medita un astro en alta voz.
Gime y se agita como león,
como queriéndose escapar.
¿De dónde viene su corcel
con ese brillo abrumador?
Parece falso el arrebol
que se desprende de su ser.
«Viene del reino de Satán
–toda su sangre respondió–.
Quemas el árbol del amor,
dejas cenizas al pasar».
Va prisionero del placer
y siervo de la vanidad.
Busca la luz de la verdad,
mas la mentira está a sus pies.
Gloria le tiende terca red
y le aprisiona el corazón
en los silencios de su voz
que se va ahogando sin querer.
La candileja artificial
le ha encandilado la razón:
¡dale tu mano, amigo Sol,
en su tremenda oscuridad!
¿Qué es lo que canta? –digo yo.
No se consigue responder.
Vana es la abeja sin su miel,
vana la hoz sin segador.
¿Es el dinero alguna luz
para los ojos que no ven?
«Treinta denarios y una cruz»
–responde el eco de Israel.
¿De dónde viene tu mentir
y adónde empieza tu verdad?
Parece broma tu mirar;
llanto parece tu reír.
Y su conciencia dijo al fin:
«Cántale al hombre en su dolor,
en su miseria y su sudor
y en su motivo de existir».
Cuando del fondo de su ser
entendimiento así le habló,
un vino nuevo le endulzó
las amarguras de su hiel.
Hoy es su canto un azadón
que le abre surcos al vivir,
a la justicia en su raíz
y a los raudales de su voz.
En su divina comprensión
luces brotaban del cantor.
http://www.cancioneros.com/nc/234/0/cantores-que-reflexionan-violeta-parra
Singers that think over
In the prison of anxiety/ a star is medtating aloud./ Moans and agitates like a lion,/ as wanting to scape./ Where does his charger comes from/ with that overwhelming brightness?/ It seems to be fake the flush/ that releases from his being./ “It come from Satan’s kingdom/ –answered his whole blood-./ You burn the tree of love,/ leaving ashes as you passes”.// He goes prisoner of pleasure/ and serf of vanity./ He’s looking for the light of truth,/ but lie is at his feet./ Glory lais its stubborn web/ and imprisons his heart/ in the silences of his voice/ that is suffocating without wanting./ The artificial limelight/ has dazzled his reason:/ Give him a hand,/ friend Sun,/ in his tremendous darkness.// What does he sing? –say I./ No response is get./ A bee without its honey is vain,/ a sickle without a reaper is vain./ Is money a kind of light/ for the eyes that don’t see?/ “Thirty denarii and a cross”/ –answers the echo of Israel./ Where your lying come from/ and where does your truth starts?/ Your look seems to be a joke;/ your laughing looks like a crying.// And his conscience said at the end:/ “Sing for the man in his sorrow,/ in his misery and his sweat/ and in his reason to exists”./ When from deep of his being/ the understanding talked him so,/ a new wine sweetened him/ the bitterness of his gall./ Today his singing is a mattock/ that open grooves to the living,/ to the justice in its root/ and to the torrents of his voice.// In his divine understanding/ lights were sprouting from the singer
Violeta Parra
Violetaren martxa
Gure Violeta maitea,
dantzan egizu martxea,
lehen eskuineko hankea
bai eta gero bestea.
Begira euskal jendea,
bihotza pozez betea,
apurtzen berdin katea
eta zapata parea.
Sekulan ez nun uste nik
hain aldakorra zinenik,
Ameriketan sorturik
gure artera sarturik.
Munduan ez da besterik
hau baino ederragorik,
nola egon jakin barik
hil eta gero bizirik.
Hauxe da martxa alarguna
oso gutxitan entzuna
nahiz ta Txilen famaduna
zuk ziur ez dakizuna,
Violeta Parra laguna
kantari oso ezaguna,
gaurtik erdi euskalduna,
da soinu hau egin duna.
The march of Violeta
Our dear Violeta,/ let dance this march,/ the right foot first,/ and then the other one./ Look at the Basque people/ with their overjoyed heart,/ breaking the chain/ as a pair of shoes.// I never should believe/ you were so changing./ You were born in America,/ got into among us./ There is in the world no other/ thing more beatiful than this,/ without knowing how to be/ alive after death.// This is a widow march,/ seldom listened,/ but known in Chile,/ surely you shouldn’t know,/ friend Violeta Parra,/ very known singer,/ since today half Basque,/ is who compossed this melody.
Words: Natxo de Felipe
Music: Violeta Parra
Translation to Spanish: https://albokari2.wordpress.com/2007/01/18/violetaren-martxa/
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