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translated by Jake Spatz
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| Humillación | Shame | |
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Music: Rodolfo Biagi Lyrics: Carlos Bahr (1) Rec. by Rodolfo Biagi with Jorge Ortiz (2) Rec. by Juan D'Arienzo with Hector Mauré |
Tr. Jake Spatz Recited 20 Sept. 2006, Divino Lounge |
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Yo no sabía del amor que se arrodilla, balbuceando ruegos, manso de altiveces. Fue de ese modo, con flaquezas que aún me humillan, como en mi delirio, te llegué a querer. Hoy que despierto frente a tu liviana pasión en mi conciencia que sintió de lleno el rigor, brota a despecho de este amor que me envilece, el grito rebelde de mi humillación. |
I never knew about the love gets you kneeling, stammering petitions, a sheep of self-assertion... But that's the way, with still-humiliating weakness, in some kind of delirium, I came to fall for you. Now awakened to the trifles your emotions always were, with a conscience that endured their tribulations to the full, despite the love that still continues to debase me, the rebel cry within me breaks out against my shame. |
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Odio este amor, que me humilló a tus antojos, odio este amor, que me enseñó a suplicar. Ansia torpe que me arrodilló bajo el yugo de tu pretensión, odio este amor que al doblegar mi entereza, me rebajó, a mendigar tu calor. |
Fie upon that love that sank me down to your caprices, fie upon that love that ever taught me to implore. That buffle-headed want that got me on my knees, bearing up the yoke of your demands on me— fie upon that love that bent my fortitude and bowed me, and brought me down to begging you for warmth. |
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No te reprocho si tu amor que fue inconstante, puso en mi existencia, sombras de abandono; ni tienes culpa si maldigo a cada instante, lo que fue flaqueza de mi corazón. Mía es la culpa por haber rodado a tus pies, y es mi castigo condenar mi propia pasión, frente al reproche de mi orgullo lastimado, que no se consuela de su humillación. |
I don't reproach your love for being so inconstant as to cast on my existence shadows of desertion; nor do I blame you that I curse at every moment what was my own weakness here in my own heart. Mine is all the blame for having groveled at your feet, and it's my punishment to condemn no passion but my own, before the scolding of my injured sense of pride, that finds no consolation to justify its shame. |
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All contents copyright 2006