Ja t'ho diré — Res No Es Mou song lyrics and translation
The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "Res No Es Mou" by Ja t'ho diré.
Lyrics
Res no es mou. Ningú no crida
S’ha fet fosc
Una moixa que me mira
Posa ordre es moviments
Sense comptar es temps
Quatre llibres mal posats
I un silenci que ho diu tot
Quadres, ramells, planxes i teles
Bòtils, culleres, plats i cafeteres
Sense rompre cap got
Un mussol s’ha deixondit
Un pagès i un caragol
Es passegen pes verdet
Ses estrelles des safareig
Són peixos que no diuen res
No diuen res
I ara que no mos veu ningú
Obrirem calaixos i caixons
Hi ha mirades que em fan mal
I olors molt conegudes
Hi ha drogues que em curen
I cançons que encara duren…
Dues velles xafarderes
No es poden pensar mai
Que ses flors d’aquest racó
Sempre faran bona olor
M’agrada sortir a respirar
S’aire de la mar
Sempre em farà somiar
Juny, juliol, prunes i cireres
Cards i abarsets, barques i peixateres
Pedres i parets
Porxos i nu rebost
En cases de marès
Anirem a arrasar camí
Anar a morir
I ara que no mos veu ningú
T’assimilaré com si res
Durem un ritme compassat
I tot d’una funcionarem
T’agradarà estar damunt jo
Es pits te tremolaran
Es llençols estan humits
Papallones pes pits
Lyrics translation
Nothing moves. No one calls
Has become dark
A moixa que me mira
Puts order movements
Without have is time
Four books poorly made
And a silence that says it all
Tables, clusters, plates and fabrics
Bòtils, spoons, dishes and coffee pots
Without breaking any glass
An owl has deixondit
A farmer and a snail
Stroll weight verdet
Ses stars from laundry room
Are fish that do not say anything
They don't say anything
And now that you do not bite a voice nobody
Open drawers and boxes
There are looks that make me evil
And smells very well-known
There are drugs that I heal
And songs that still last…
Two old xafarderes
You can't think about it
That their flowers from this corner
Will always smell good
I like to go out to breathe
Is air of the sea
I always will dream
June, July, plums and cherries
Thistles and abarsets, boats and peixateres
Stones and walls
Porches and bare pantry
In houses sandstone
Go to success way
Go to die
And now that you do not bite a voice nobody
You assimilaré as if nothing
Will a pace compassat
And all of a funcionarem
You will be on I
Is breasts you tremolaran
Is sheets are wet
Butterflies weight breasts