I know, I know : I am off beat.
But this is a favorite of all time.
Today I stumbled over a text by Iren Kiss in which I read about the hungarian traditional practice of translating poetry : "In my country, translating oustanding works of peotry and drama has been the vocation of the most distinguished Hungarian writers and poets."
Federico could not have dream of better "lights of Hungary" to have his Spanish poetry enlightened into the English language.
http://www.webheights.net/speakingcohen/waltz.htm
Take this Waltz
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Take this Waltz
***
"He can love the shape of human beings, the fine and twisted shapes of the heart. It is good to have among us such men, such balancing monsters of love."
Leonard Cohen
Beautiful Losers
"He can love the shape of human beings, the fine and twisted shapes of the heart. It is good to have among us such men, such balancing monsters of love."
Leonard Cohen
Beautiful Losers
- Cheshire gal
- Posts: 807
- Joined: Tue Apr 13, 2010 7:54 am
- Location: Al. USA
Re: Take this Waltz
Well thank goodness Leonard rewrote this poem and improved on it immensely. I do not care for the original.
It makes a wonderful song.
It makes a wonderful song.
'...and here's a man still working for your little smile' -Leonard Cohen
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Re: Take this Waltz
You're not "off beat" Tchoc
you're right on the money. It is up there for me too.
Though my siblingly transitory favourite (at the moment) is "Love itself" (Ten New Songs).
http://www.leonardcohenfiles.com/tennewsongs.html#14
Mat.
you're right on the money. It is up there for me too.
Though my siblingly transitory favourite (at the moment) is "Love itself" (Ten New Songs).
http://www.leonardcohenfiles.com/tennewsongs.html#14
Mat.
"Without light or guide, save that which burned in my heart." San Juan de la Cruz.
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- Joined: Wed Apr 02, 2003 10:07 pm
Re: Take this Waltz
Cheshire gal, this is why translators exists To spare us the impossibility to care. Those adventurers who endure and enjoy journeys on the oceans from around the world, travels toward many sceneries, know roads less traveled, visit all mankind's valleys of tears, climb the higher peaks, an trade jewels, delicacies, and other kashemirs in their ways.
Thank G_d the original cared for the other original!!!!
MatJames, Love Itself seems to be a fav. for many! It is a huge song.
It is a space of complete nothingness in which one can really feel Love itself.
Looks like an traditional Japanese interior.
Thank G_d the original cared for the other original!!!!
MatJames, Love Itself seems to be a fav. for many! It is a huge song.
It is a space of complete nothingness in which one can really feel Love itself.
Looks like an traditional Japanese interior.
***
"He can love the shape of human beings, the fine and twisted shapes of the heart. It is good to have among us such men, such balancing monsters of love."
Leonard Cohen
Beautiful Losers
"He can love the shape of human beings, the fine and twisted shapes of the heart. It is good to have among us such men, such balancing monsters of love."
Leonard Cohen
Beautiful Losers
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- Posts: 80
- Joined: Tue Sep 06, 2011 4:58 pm
Re: Take this Waltz
I love the live versions I have of this song much more than the album version. It is a wondrous song.
Re: Take this Waltz
English and Spanish are both good languages for poetry!
Re: Take this Waltz
They're conveniently both written bilingually line for line in my Lorca book poetry book that I bought a few months ago, see here – https://www.leonardcohenforum.com/viewt ... se#p370455
The book is still sitting on the table for me to read. Yesterday I thought I should start it from the beginning (I still haven't gone back to reading The Flame) and discovered these forewords about Little Viennese Waltz. I knew of Lorca’s love life but I didn’t know this about his poem.
Taking the above statement into consideration, it’s interesting to see how Leonard made this love poem with its distinct intention into a love song of his own connotationIn Little Viennese Waltz, the poet’s darkest, most secret yearning is expressed in the lightest most playful cadences imaginable. It is a love poem, the most explicitly homosexual one Lorca had yet written. The strains of the waltz lead the poet to a declaration of love, the gay flaunting of his own beauty – “see how the hyacinths line my banks!” – and the imagining, in the final five lines, of the consummation of the sexual act. The ribbons of the waltz will be broken and buried in the dark movement of the beloved.
It doesn't have to be perfect, it just has to B4real ~ me
Attitude is a self-fulfilling prophecy ~ me ...... The magic of art is the truth of its lies ~ me ...... Only left-handers are in their right mind!
Attitude is a self-fulfilling prophecy ~ me ...... The magic of art is the truth of its lies ~ me ...... Only left-handers are in their right mind!
- Jean Fournell
- Posts: 302
- Joined: Thu Jun 20, 2013 4:09 pm
- Location: Provence
Re: Take this Waltz
Here two links to "Pequeño vals vienés" by Federico García Lorca
(Music based on "Take This Waltz" by Leonard Cohen)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ft4qigSb-gA
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gqwjjgDIkfE
(Music based on "Take This Waltz" by Leonard Cohen)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ft4qigSb-gA
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gqwjjgDIkfE
___________________________________________________
Therefore know that you must become one with the bow, and with the arrow, and with the target —
to say nothing of the horse.
♪... for a while ♪
♪... for a little while... ♪
(Just a filthy beggar blessing / What happens to the heart)
Therefore know that you must become one with the bow, and with the arrow, and with the target —
to say nothing of the horse.
♪... for a while ♪
♪... for a little while... ♪
(Just a filthy beggar blessing / What happens to the heart)
- Jean Fournell
- Posts: 302
- Joined: Thu Jun 20, 2013 4:09 pm
- Location: Provence
Re: Take this Waltz
Pequeño vals vienés
Federico García Lorca
En Viena hay diez muchachas,
un hombro donde solloza la muerte
y un bosque de palomas disecadas.
Hay un fragmento de la mañana
en el museo de la escarcha.
Hay un salón con mil ventanas.
¡Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Toma este vals con la boca cerrada.
Este vals, este vals, este vals,
de sí, de muerte y de coñac
que moja su cola en el mar.
Te quiero, te quiero, te quiero,
con la butaca y el libro muerto,
por el melancólico pasillo,
en el oscuro desván del lirio,
en nuestra cama de la luna
y en la danza que sueña la tortuga.
¡Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Toma este vals de quebrada cintura.
En Viena hay cuatro espejos
donde juegan tu boca y los ecos.
Hay una muerte para piano
que pinta de azul a los muchachos.
Hay mendigos por los tejados,
hay frescas guirnaldas de llanto.
¡Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Toma este vals que se muere en mis brazos.
Porque te quiero, te quiero, amor mío,
en el desván donde juegan los niños,
soñando viejas luces de Hungría
por los rumores de la tarde tibia,
viendo ovejas y lirios de nieve
por el silencio oscuro de tu frente.
¡Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Toma este vals del "Te quiero siempre".
En Viena bailaré contigo
con un disfraz que tenga
cabeza de río.
¡Mira qué orillas tengo de jacintos!
Dejaré mi boca entre tus piernas,
mi alma en fotografías y azucenas,
y en las ondas oscuras de tu andar
quiero, amor mío, amor mío, dejar,
violín y sepulcro, las cintas del vals.
Little Viennese Waltz
In Vienna there are ten girls,
a shoulder where death sobs
and a grove of stuffed dry pigeons.
There's a fragment of the morning
in the museum of the hoarfrost.
There's a hall with a thousand windows.
Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Take this waltz with its tightly closed mouth.
This waltz, this waltz, this waltz,
of self, of death, and of brandy
that wets its tail in the sea.
I want you, I want you, I want you,
with the armchair and the dead book,
by the melancholy hallway,
in the dark attic of the iris,
in our bed of the moon
and in the dance that the turtle dreams.
Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Take this waltz of the broken belt.
In Vienna there are four mirrors
where your mouth and the echoes play.
There is a death for piano
that paints the boys blue.
There are beggars on the rooftops.
There are fresh garlands of tears.
Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Take this waltz that is pining in my arms.
Because I want you, I want you, O my love,
in the attic where the children play,
dreaming of old lights from Hungary
in the murmurs of the mild afternoon,
seeing sheep and irises of snow
by the dark silence of your brow.
Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Take this waltz of the "I'll always want you."
In Vienna I will dance with you
in a disguise with
a river's head.
Just look at my banks made of hyacinths!
I will give up my mouth between your legs,
my soul in photographs and lilies,
and in the dark waves of your gait
I want, O my love, O my love, to yield,
O violin and tomb, the ribbons of the waltz.
Federico García Lorca
En Viena hay diez muchachas,
un hombro donde solloza la muerte
y un bosque de palomas disecadas.
Hay un fragmento de la mañana
en el museo de la escarcha.
Hay un salón con mil ventanas.
¡Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Toma este vals con la boca cerrada.
Este vals, este vals, este vals,
de sí, de muerte y de coñac
que moja su cola en el mar.
Te quiero, te quiero, te quiero,
con la butaca y el libro muerto,
por el melancólico pasillo,
en el oscuro desván del lirio,
en nuestra cama de la luna
y en la danza que sueña la tortuga.
¡Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Toma este vals de quebrada cintura.
En Viena hay cuatro espejos
donde juegan tu boca y los ecos.
Hay una muerte para piano
que pinta de azul a los muchachos.
Hay mendigos por los tejados,
hay frescas guirnaldas de llanto.
¡Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Toma este vals que se muere en mis brazos.
Porque te quiero, te quiero, amor mío,
en el desván donde juegan los niños,
soñando viejas luces de Hungría
por los rumores de la tarde tibia,
viendo ovejas y lirios de nieve
por el silencio oscuro de tu frente.
¡Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Toma este vals del "Te quiero siempre".
En Viena bailaré contigo
con un disfraz que tenga
cabeza de río.
¡Mira qué orillas tengo de jacintos!
Dejaré mi boca entre tus piernas,
mi alma en fotografías y azucenas,
y en las ondas oscuras de tu andar
quiero, amor mío, amor mío, dejar,
violín y sepulcro, las cintas del vals.
Little Viennese Waltz
In Vienna there are ten girls,
a shoulder where death sobs
and a grove of stuffed dry pigeons.
There's a fragment of the morning
in the museum of the hoarfrost.
There's a hall with a thousand windows.
Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Take this waltz with its tightly closed mouth.
This waltz, this waltz, this waltz,
of self, of death, and of brandy
that wets its tail in the sea.
I want you, I want you, I want you,
with the armchair and the dead book,
by the melancholy hallway,
in the dark attic of the iris,
in our bed of the moon
and in the dance that the turtle dreams.
Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Take this waltz of the broken belt.
In Vienna there are four mirrors
where your mouth and the echoes play.
There is a death for piano
that paints the boys blue.
There are beggars on the rooftops.
There are fresh garlands of tears.
Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Take this waltz that is pining in my arms.
Because I want you, I want you, O my love,
in the attic where the children play,
dreaming of old lights from Hungary
in the murmurs of the mild afternoon,
seeing sheep and irises of snow
by the dark silence of your brow.
Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Take this waltz of the "I'll always want you."
In Vienna I will dance with you
in a disguise with
a river's head.
Just look at my banks made of hyacinths!
I will give up my mouth between your legs,
my soul in photographs and lilies,
and in the dark waves of your gait
I want, O my love, O my love, to yield,
O violin and tomb, the ribbons of the waltz.
___________________________________________________
Therefore know that you must become one with the bow, and with the arrow, and with the target —
to say nothing of the horse.
♪... for a while ♪
♪... for a little while... ♪
(Just a filthy beggar blessing / What happens to the heart)
Therefore know that you must become one with the bow, and with the arrow, and with the target —
to say nothing of the horse.
♪... for a while ♪
♪... for a little while... ♪
(Just a filthy beggar blessing / What happens to the heart)