Manel "Mort d'un heroi" lyrics

Translation to:enesitpl

Mort d'un heroi

Un cosí de ma mare tenia un bufet pròsper a la ciutat,fa molt anys van enviar-m’hi com a jove passant d’advocat.Vaig trobar una cambra senzilla: una taula, un llit, un mirallI arribava que era nit tancada,que en alguna taverna del centre s’havia fet tard.

Al replà la senyora Manresa passava les hores cosint,Però aquell dia semblava alterada va apropar-se nerviosa i va dir:“Disculpi, no sap com odio venir a demanar-li favors.L’inquilí del 3r aquest migdia estava com boig i ara pico i no respon...”

A la llum d’un immens canelobre vaig obrir-me pas en la foscoravançant entre ombres de mobles repassava les habitacions.Vaig sentir uns gossos que somicaven, vaig seguir la pista dels plorsi, senyors, com sabran vaig trobar-meun gran heroi romàntic mort al menjador.

I tenia una nota ridícula arrugada entre les mansplena de dits que jugaven amb trenes de postes de sol i donzelles a lloms de cavalls.

Poc després l’inspector s’apuntava el contacte d’un familiar,un germà que vivia a la costa amb qui celebraven els sants.Van tancar-li els dos ulls amb tendresa, van tapar-lo amb un llençol blanc.En silenci tothom glopejava el te verd que havia escalfat la mestra del quart.

Un mossèn va pregar un pare nostre amb un fil de veu mort de son,al costat vam reunir-nos els homes per mirar de treure el cos.I estirant d’uns turmells sense vida vaig sortir d’aquell menjador.La senyora Manresa patia “per l’amor de Déu, vigili’n amb els cops!”

Al carrer la carrossa esperava, el cotxer es distreia observantun soldats de permís que cantaven sota la llum dels fanals.Vam contar fins a tres per fer força per pujar el cadàver a dalt.Un vent fred va gelar l’aire, un fuet petant amb mandra va fer arrancar els cavalls.

I seguia amb la nota ridícula arrugada entre les mans,plena de crits en el buit, de desigs violents,de tempestes que enterren vaixells dins el mar.

Plena de dones rient d’uns sanguinolentsde bellesa que no deixa espai per pensar.

Plena de muses ferides per sempreper claus rovellats en cançons de poetes vulgars.

Plena de salts infinits on t’esperen immòbils,per si vols passar-hi, uns gimnastes de glaç.

Plena de besties bavoses a punt d’enfrontar-seen combat desigual amb els presos cristians.

Plena de nens espantats que mirensi arriben els pares sota la pluja constant.

Plena de joves erectes que arrambenpubilles guarnides pel ball del diumenge de rams.

Plena de braços que s’alcen i paren un taxisortint de sopars amb amics que se’n van.

Plena de “Creu-me ho intento, però a estonessospito, morena, que això no s’aturarà mai.”

Death of a romantic hero

A cousin of my mother hada prosper lawyer's office in the city,lots of years ago they sent me thereas young probationary lawyer.I found a plain chamber:a table, a bed, a mirror.And i got there late at night,for in some pubs it had gotten late.

On the first floor Mrs.Manresa ,spent the hours sewing,But that day she seemed upsetshe got close to me nervous and said:"Excuse me, you cannot imagine how much i hateapproaching you to ask you favors.The 3rd's tenant was like crazy this morningand now i knock on the door and he doesnt answer..."

Under a huge candelabrum's lighti made my way through the darkness,moving forward in furniture's shadowsi looked over the rooms.I heard some dogs whimpering,i followed the weep's trackand, Sirs, as you may know i encountereda great romantic hero dead in the dining room.

And he had a ridiculous note wrinkled in his handfull of fingers that once played with sun setting braids and maidens riding horses.

Shortly after the inspector wrote downsome relative's contact,a brother that lived on the coastwith whom the dead celebrated their saint's days.They closed his two eyes tenderly,they covered him with a white sheet.Silently everyone soaked upthe green tea heated by the 4th floor's teacher.

A priest prayed the Our Fatherin a small whisper aslept on his feet,on his side the man we gatheredto try to move the body outside.And pulling lifeless anklesI got out of that dining room.Mrs.Manresa suffered"for God's sake, be careful with the blows!"

On the street the hearse waited,the driver entertained himself looking atsome soldiers on permission that sangunder the lamposts' light.We counted up to 3 to pull hard and move the corpse up.A cold wind froze the air,a whip bursting lazyly took off the horses.

And he still had the ridiculous note wrinkled in his hand,full of screams in the emptiness, of violent desires,of storms that burry ships in the sea.

Full of women laugthing about some bloodybeauties that don't let you any left room to think.

Full of muses wounded for ever,by rusted nails in rude poets' songs.

Full of infinite jumps where, motionless,in case you wish to come by, some ice gymnasts wait for you.

Full of slimy beasts about to facein an unfair combat the christian prisoners.

Full of scared children that checkwhether their parents arrive under the constant rain.

Full of young men with a hard on that latch onto"pubilles" adorned for the Palm Sunday's dance.(pubilles = the eldest daughter in old Catalonia)

Full of arms that rise up and stop a taxiafter dinners with friends that will go away.

Full of "Believe me I try, but from time to time I suspect,brunette, that this will never stop."

Here one can find the English lyrics of the song Mort d'un heroi by Manel. Or Mort d'un heroi poem lyrics. Manel Mort d'un heroi text in English. Also can be known by title Mort dun heroi (Manel) text. This page also contains a translation, and Mort dun heroi meaning.