Joaquin Sabina
Sale Joaquin Sabina, pero lo que me llamó la atención fué otra cosa...¿Que onda con la Vero y su 'look' muy a la Marilyn Monroe? Eso si ver a la Vero en la noche era de rigor; se ponia cada cosita, su hermana -que la vestia- la odiaba :)
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Enough of this.
I have had enough of repining,
Of loss and lament.
Enough.
I want to dance in the street.
I want laughter –
Loud days and wild nights.
I will make it up,
If I have toUntil it happens.
I will make it happen If I have to.
I have had enough of repenting
Of loss
And lament.
I wantDancing in the streets,
Laughter.
I will go into the fields
And under a white hawthorn tree
Dig a grave
Six foot deep.
Into it I will put
Regret and remorse.
I will cover it up,
Shovel the clay
And lay down my cross.
I have had enough
Of lament
And loss.
After allI wrote my own story,
Chose my course.
I brought myself
To this edge of the river.
Enough.
It is over; the sad times
the bleak.
Put behind me.
I have taken what I need –
The few things of value
Salvaged from the wreck.
I carry the in my flesh and blood
Until the last day.
Enough of loss and lament.
I want to dance in the street
I want laughter
Luminous mornings, long nights.
It is over,
Finished,
Remorse and lament
I have buried them, Turned the clay
Six foot deep, under
The white hawthorn tree.
This day
I have turned my back
On sorrow.
Mary Dorcey
NOT HERE FOR A LONG TIME, JUST HERE FOR A GOOD TIME !!!
You think you know me?
This Day I have Turned my Back on Sorrow.
Enough of this.
I have had enough of repining,
Of loss and lament.
Enough.
I want to dance in the street.
I want laughter –
Loud days and wild nights.
I will make it up,
If I have toUntil it happens.
I will make it happen If I have to.
I have had enough of repenting
Of loss
And lament.
I wantDancing in the streets,
Laughter.
I will go into the fields
And under a white hawthorn tree
Dig a grave
Six foot deep.
Into it I will put
Regret and remorse.
I will cover it up,
Shovel the clay
And lay down my cross.
I have had enough
Of lament
And loss.
After allI wrote my own story,
Chose my course.
I brought myself
To this edge of the river.
Enough.
It is over; the sad times
the bleak.
Put behind me.
I have taken what I need –
The few things of value
Salvaged from the wreck.
I carry the in my flesh and blood
Until the last day.
Enough of loss and lament.
I want to dance in the street
I want laughter
Luminous mornings, long nights.
It is over,
Finished,
Remorse and lament
I have buried them, Turned the clay
Six foot deep, under
The white hawthorn tree.
This day
I have turned my back
On sorrow.
Mary Dorcey
Oh no I didn"t!!...
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