Pauvre Martin
Georges Brassens| Versione catalana di Miquel Pujadó dal suo disco “Pujadó can... | |
POOR MARTIN With a shovel on his shoulder On his rounded lips a whistle On his rounded lips a whistle His heart the size of a boulder He went clearing fields of thistle. Poor ole Martin, humble of birth Dig away time, dig away earth! To earn the salt of a living From dawn until the day is done From dawn until the day is done Fields of stone he went a-clearing In the rain or the glaring sun. Poor ole Martin, humble of birth Dig away time, dig away earth! Without ever showing a trace Of bitterness before his lot Of bitterness before his lot He toiled with a smile on his face Ever digging another plot. Poor ole Martin, humble of birth Dig away time, dig away earth! When death made upon him demand That he go till his final field That he go till his final field He dug his grave with his own hand With the falling night as his shield. Poor ole Martin, humble of birth Dig away time, dig away earth! He made his grave, unseen, unheard His heart weighing like a boulder His heart weighing like a boulder And laid himself without a word Shovel resting on a shoulder. Poor ole Martin, humble of birth Sleep away time, sleep away earth! | POBRE MARTÍ Amb una aixada sobre el muscle i als llavis prims un dolç cantar i als llavis prims un dolç cantar, amb l’esperit ple de coratge, als camps anava a treballar. Pobre Martí, pobra misèria, caves la terra, caves el temps. Per guanyar el pa de cada dia, des de l’albada fins ‘la nit des de l’albada fins ‘la nit, es barallava amb els terrossos d’arreu del temps i l’Infinit. Sense deixar entreveure al rostre ni un xic d’enveja ni maldat, ni un xic d’enveja ni maldat, els camps dels altres conreava, sempre cavant, sempre esllomat. I, quan la Mort li va fer un signe per deixar l’últim camp llaurat per deixar l’últim camp llaurat, es va cavar ell mateix la tomba a corre-cuita i d’amagat. Es va cavar ell mateix la tomba a corre-cuita i d’amagat a corre-cuita i d’amagat. Després, s’hi va ajaçar en silenci, i així ningú fou destrobat. Pobre Martí, pobra misèria, caves la terra, caves el temps. Pobre Martí, pobra misèria, dorm sota terra, dorm sota el temps. |
