Amancio Prada - Adiós ríos, adiós fontes | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Amancio Prada
• Adiós ríos, adiós fontes

Adiós ríos, adiós fontes
adiós, regatos pequeños;
adiós, vista dos meus ollos,
non sei cándo nos veremos.

Miña terra, miña terra,
terra donde m’eu criei,
hortiña que quero tanto,
figueiriñas que prantei.

Prados, ríos, arboredas,
pinares que move o vento,
paxariños piadores,
casiña d’o meu contento.

Muiño dos castañares,
noites craras do luar,
campaniñas timbradoiras
da igrexiña do lugar.

Amoriñas das silveiras
que eu lle daba ó meu amor,
camiñiños antre o millo,
¡adiós para sempre adiós!

¡Adiós, gloria! ¡Adiós, contento!
¡Deixo a casa onde nacín,
deixo a aldea que conoso,
por un mundo que non vin!

Deixo amigos por extraños,
deixo a veiga polo mar;
deixo, en fin, canto ben quero…
¡quén puidera non deixar!

***
Good-bye rivers, good-bye fountains;
Good-bye, little rills;
Good-bye, sight of my eyes:
Don’t know when we’ll see each other again.

Sod of mine, sod of mine,
Sod where I was raised,
Small orchard I love so,
Dear fig trees that I planted,

Meadows, streams, groves,
Stands of pine waved by the wind,
Little chirping birds,
Darling cottage of my joy,

Mill in the chestnut wood,
Clear nights of brilliant moonlight,
Cherished ringing bells
Of the tiny parish church,

Blackberries in the brambles
That I used to give my love,
Narrow footpaths through the cornfields,
Good-bye, for ever good-bye!

Good-bye, heaven! Good-bye, happiness!
I leave the house of my birth,
I leave the hamlet that I know
For a world I haven’t seen!

I leave friends for strangers,
I leave the lowland for the sea,
I leave, in short, what I well love…
Would I didn’t have to go!

But I’m poor and—base sin!—
My sod is not my own
For even the shoulder of the road
Is loaned out to the wayfarer

Who was born star-crossed.
I must therefore leave you,
Small orchard I loved so,
Beloved fireplace of home,
Dear trees that I planted,

Favourite spring of the livestock.
Good-bye, good-bye, I’m leaving,
Hallowed blades of grass in the churchyard
Where my father lies buried,

Saintly blades of grass I kissed so much,
Dear land that brought us up.
Good-bye Virgin of the Assumption
White as a seraph,
I carry you in my heart:
Plead with God on my behalf,
Virgin of the Assumption mine,
Far, very far away hear
The church bells of Pomar;
For hapless me—alas—
They shall never ring again.
Hear them still farther away
Every peal deals out pain,
I part alone without a friend…
Good-bye land of mine, good-bye!
Farewell to you too, little darling…!
Farewell forever perhaps…!
I send you this farewell crying
From the precious coastline.
Don’t forget me, little darling,
If I should die of loneliness…
So many leagues offshore…
My dear house! My home!