Tuesday, November 25, 2008

The pilgrim's padreen*

(The family that prays together stays together)

Now, Jack takes up his mobile phone,
He's calling his love Jill,
He's walking to St Jacques alone
Although he loves her still;
And all this separation,
It is quite against his will:
From ruddy eyes, the tears that fall
His sorrowings distill:

Refr 1,2,3:
Are you lonesome tonight?
Why did you walk away?
I'm weeping like a child,
Cause I wanted you to stay:
And on the great camino
Alone I walk my way:
Why didn't you love me so?
Why didn't just we pray?

His call is only reaching
An answering machine
He stammers half his message
And prays a sad padreen:
Because it is a Friday.
His Jill is going e'en
Unto the kindergarden
To fetch their own Jolene

"Oh, mummy, who's the funny man
who made the answered call?
How did he know my name and yours
and how the phone to call?
I think he kind of liked you,
Though I didn't get it all:
He was crying like a littl'one
Though the voice was of a tall!"

It pressed her heart to hear her child
Her father not to know
And all the pious tenderness
Unknowing she did show:
And all the hate that had gone wild
That eve so long ago
Was melting like a piece of ice
July, Santiago:

Refr 4:
Yeah I'm lonesome tonight!
Why did I walk away?
I've hurt my only child
When you wanted us to stay!
Though on the great camino
Alone you walk your way,
We'll be in Santiago,
We'll meet, and kiss, and pray!

*padreen=rosary

In Burgos

I am not that good a walker,
I cannot catch you up,
Unless you really want me to and stay!
I am not that good a talker,
I'll bore you if we sup,
Unless you really ask me what I say:


Refr:
And I say you are lovely
And I say you're such a rose,
And I say I'd be happy,
Just to meet you
And to kiss you
In Burgose!


I am not that good a worker,
I cannot pay for both,
Unless you want to be a little poor!
I am not that good a courtier,
My manners are uncought,
Unless you can my courtesies endure!

I am not that good a poet
(to say it is a lie!)
Unless you like your poetry with rhyme!
I am not that good a singer
(you may laugh or you may cry)
Unless you like your songs to have a chime!

Monday, November 24, 2008

Sigue a Azaña y Hitler ...

Segùn lo leído en el cotidiano, Alejandro Valentín, juez de Valladolid, exige que los crucifijos sean desplazados de las escuelas.

Come saben los españoles, sigue Azaña. El presidente quien usurpó las derechas de la monarquía para fonder una repùblica con apoyo de la mitad del pueblo. El cuyo regímen favorizaba la violenza anticlerical hasta provocar la Guerra de 36 - 39. ?Pero saben ustedes que ya Adolfo Hitler seguía el ejemplo de Azaña (y de Lenin y de la Tercera Repùblica Francesa)?

La mayoría de los alemanes toleraba que los crucifijos fuesen desplazadas. Peró no los bavaros - o las madres bavaras. Cuando el partido había bajado un crucifijo, las madres fuesen allà para remplazarlo.

También en Bavaria fue la Rosa Blanca quienes denunciaron la tiranía hitleriana. A cuando una respuesta a esa dictatura laicista?

En Carpentràs me han robado una cruz de Camarga. No sé porqué, peró me desgusta.1 En Valladolid roban cruces a clases enteras. Me desgusta igualmente.

Hans Lundahl
11/24 Novembre
En Vaucluse

1 El de quién recibí la cruz "ayer" me explicó que la tomó para evitar que fuese robada: no queda desaparecida entonces lo que me alegre mucho.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Sponsorez mes vacances d'été, s'il vous plaît ...

Refrain:
Sponsorez mes vacances d'été, s'il vous plaît
Car je n'aime pas trop bosser:
Je préfère aimer, je préfère chanter
Et c'est dur de travailler!

J'ai vu Berlin, j'ai vu Paris
Dordogne, Corrèze aussi:
Un peu de Lot (pas Camélot)
Randonner, ça fait ma vie

Sponsorez ...

J'ai vu Espagne et Allemagne,
Un peu de Grand-Bretagne
J'ai vu l'Empire de Charlemagne,
J'ai bu du bon Champagne

Sponsorez ...

Monday, November 3, 2008

Corona Galaeciae

Corona, o, Galaeciae
O maximae laetitiae
Nautarum portus es

Qui maris nunc fastidii
Undarum quoque taedii
Quietem nautis des


/:Lux tua undis illucet
et nautas ad te allicet
Quietis dulci spe

A turri super ossa
Gerionis defossa
devicti Hercule:/

I curuniri vogliono mutare

I curuniri* vogliono mutare
Degli uomini la fè, naturalezza,
Moralità, cultura e la grandezza:
L'architettura e lettere, le care
Ai filosofi tutti

Ai poeti ed ai povveri ragazzi
Dèbili, intelettuali, forse brutti
Di cuio nùmero nuovi reclutti
Giungono loro in sinistri palazzi.

Non cercano oltra cosa che da siempre:
Scienza, potestà, più di controle
Su tutti gli uomini, cuio parole
Prendono più o meno che dai tempi
Quando formate state

Sono, mai nunqua lo stesso passato
Che glie lo più hanno reutilizzate:
Di questa mente ragioni ingannate
Loro si danno como erba sul prato.

"Giuvare" è rovinare: "amicità" è
Schiavaggio nella bocca sapiente
Dei curuniri - molto diferente
Dall' onestà che nulla parte trae
Le vecchie parole

Dal vero senso vecchio - che onora
Di "libertà" lo "non sotto controle"
Ed ogne cosedi sue parole:

Quest'onestà che tace più ancora
Lo più che parlano i curuniri questi
Chi erano nunqua semplici ed onesti
E più di più disonestano ancora.

Hans Lundahl

*curuniri - referenza da Tolkien
traduzzione, più o meno: uomini àbili,
tecnocrati o stesso: sapienti

Eso del Caudillo no me gusta (enlace)

Huelva, el polo Químico

Bajo Mola, eso quizás no habría sido hecho.
Peró murió antes las finales de la guerra en España.

Demasiado

Demasiado cerca la hermosa para mi
Demasiado lejos la hermosa para mi
Demasiado cerca para se olvidar
Demasiado lejos para me consolar!
O la hermosa, como rosa, qué problema espinosa! (bis)

Demasia' delgada la hermosa para mi
Demasiado gorda la hermosa para mi
Demasia' delgada pa' mente no entrar
Demasiado gorda pa' fueras bien sacar!
O la hermosa, como rosa, qué problema espinosa! (bis)