Violeta Parra — Cantores que reflexionan song lyrics and translation
The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "Cantores que reflexionan" by Violeta Parra.
Lyrics
En la prisión de la ansiedad
Medita un astro en alta voz
Gime y se agita como león
Como queriéndose escapar
¿de dónde viene su corcel
Con ese brillo abrumador?
Parece falso el arrebol
Que se desprende de su ser
Viene del reino de Satán
Toda su sangre respondió
Quemas el árbol del amor
Dejas cenizas al pasar
Va prisionero del placer
Y siervo de la vanidad
Busca la luz de la verdad
Más la mentira está a sus pies
Gloria le tiende terca red
Y le aprisiona el corazón
En los silencios de tu voz
Que se va ahogando sin querer
La candileja artificial
Te ha encandilado la razón
Dale tu mano, amigo sol
En su tremenda oscuridad
Qué es lo que canta digo yo
No lo consigue responder
Vana es la abeja sin su miel
Vana la voz sin segador
¿Es el dinero alguna luz
Para los ojos que no ven?
Treinta denarios y una cruz
Responde el eco de Israel
¿de dónde viene tu mentir
Y adónde empieza tu verdad?
Parece broma tu mirar
Llanto parece tu reír
Y su conciencia dijo al fin
Cántele al hombre en su dolor
En su miseria y su sudor
Y en su motivo de existir
Cuando del fondo de su ser
Entendimiento así le habló
Un vino nuevo le endulzó
Las amarguras de su hiel
Hoy es su canto un azadón
Que le abre surcos al vivir
A la justicia en su raíz
Y a los raudales de su voz
En su divina comprensión
Luces brotaban del cantor
Lyrics translation
In the prison of anxiety
Meditate a star aloud
Moans and shakes like a lion
Like wanting to escape
where does your steed come from
With that overwhelming glow?
It seems false the outburst
That follows from his being
It comes from the Kingdom of Satan
All his blood answered
Burn the tree of love
You leave Ashes when you pass by
He goes prisoner of pleasure
And servant of Vanity
Seek the light of truth
More the lie is at your feet
Gloria stretches her stubborn red
And it imprisons his heart
In the silences of your voice
That he's drowning unintentionally
The artificial candle
You've got your reason turned on.
Give him Your Hand, friend sol
In its tremendous darkness
What is it that sings I say
Can't answer
Vain is the Bee without its honey
Vain voice without Reaper
Is money any light
For the eyes that do not see?
Thirty denarii and a cross
Israel's Echo responds
where does your lying come from
And where does your truth begin?
It seems a joke your look
Crying sounds like Your Laugh
And his conscience said at last
Sing to the man in his pain
In his misery and his sweat
And in its reason to exist
When from the bottom of his being
Understanding thus spoke to him
A new wine sweetened him
The bitterness of his gall
Today is his singing a hoe
That furrows you when you live
To justice at its root
And the waves of his voice
In his divine understanding
Lights sprang from the singer