A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall

Bob Dylan

Originale

LLegará la tormenta, una bella versione spagnola cantata dal ...

A HARD RAIN'S A-GONNA FALL Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son? Oh, where have you been, my darling young one? I've stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains, I've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways, I've stepped in the middle of seven sad forests, I've been out in front of a dozen dead oceans, I've been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard, And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard, And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall. Oh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son? Oh, what did you see, my darling young one? I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it, I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin', I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin', I saw a white ladder all covered with water, I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken, I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children, And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall. And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son? And what did you hear, my darling young one? I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin', Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world, Heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin', Heard ten thousand whisperin' and nobody listenin', Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin', Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter, Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley, And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall. Oh, who did you meet, my blue-eyed son? Who did you meet, my darling young one? I met a young child beside a dead pony, I met a white man who walked a black dog, I met a young woman whose body was burning, I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow, I met one man who was wounded in love, I met another man who was wounded with hatred, And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall. Oh, what'll you do now, my blue-eyed son? Oh, what'll you do now, my darling young one? I'm a-goin' back out 'fore the rain starts a-fallin', I'll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest, Where the people are many and their hands are all empty, Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters, Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison, Where the executioner's face is always well hidden, Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten, Where black is the color, where none is the number, And I'll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it, And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it, Then I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin', But I'll know my song well before I start singin', And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

LLegará la tormenta Me han dicho que has vuelto por fin a tu casa ¿Qué has visto en tu viaje por tierras lejanas? Caí entre la bruma de doce montañas Vagando por seis autopistas cortadas En medio de siete bosques callados Perdido en las costas de negros océanos Subí a diez mil millas hasta un camposanto Y llegará, llegará, llegará, llegará la tormenta Que anuncia el cielo Me han dicho que has vuelto por fin a tu casa ¿Qué oíste en tu viaje por tierras lejanas? El ruido de un trueno preludio del miedo La última ola al final de los tiempos Tambores sonando en la linea de fuego Y tantos susurros que no escucha nadie Oí carcajadas y llantos de hambre La triste canción del poeta en la calle La voz de un payaso cubierto de sangre Y llegará, llegará, llegará, llegará la tormenta Que anuncia el cielo Me han dicho que has vuelto por fin a tu casa ¿Y qué harás ahora que el viaje se acaba? Volver antes de la lluvia de estrellas A lo más profundo de lo desconocido Donde hay multitudes sin nada en las manos Allí donde el sol ha secado los ríos Donde eres esclavo o un pobre fugitivo Que ha visto los ojos de un hombre sin rostro Donde todas las almas han sido olvidadas Donde negro es el color y el número no existe Gritaré hasta que quede grabado en el viento Y mi voz se refleje desde ésta montaña Aunque tenga que andar encima de las aguas Hasta que ésta llamada sea escuchada Y llegará, llegará, llegará, llegará la tormenta Que anuncia el cielo (2x)