Difference between revisions of "Fruta amarga"
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without clemency, without oblivion, | without clemency, without oblivion, | ||
without forgiveness! | without forgiveness! | ||
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Latest revision as of 12:07, 30 May 2019
Fruta amarga (Bitter Fruit) is the title of a Tango written by Homero Manzi in 1944. The music was composed by Hugo Gutiérrez.
Contents
Recordings
At the moment, there are no recordings for this song stored in the TangoWiki. If you have sources, add a new recording.
Lyrics
¡Corazón!
En aquella noche larga
maduró la fruta amarga
de esta enorme soledad.
¡Corazón!
¿En las nubes de qué cielo
la tristeza de tu vuelo
sin consuelo vagará?
Bien lo sé...
¡Aquel frío alucinante
de un instante, me cegó!
Fue en un viento de locura,
sin ternura, sin perdón.
Fue en el grito enronquecido
de un amor enloquecido
de dolor.
Eras la luz de sol
y la canción feliz
y la llovizna gris
en mi ventana.
Eras remanso fiel
y duende soñador
y jazminero en flor
y eras mañana.
Suave murmullo...
Viento de loma...
Cálido arrullo
de la paloma.
Ya no serás jamás
aroma de rosal,
frescor de manantial
en mi destino.
Sólo serás la voz
que me haga recordar
que en un instante atroz
te hice llorar.
¡Ya no estás!
Y el recuerdo es un espejo
que refleja desde lejos
tu tristeza y mi maldad.
¡Ya no estas!
Y tu ausencia que se alarga
tiene gusto a fruta amarga,
a castigo y soledad.
¡Corazón!
Una nube puso un velo
sobre el cielo de los dos.
¡Y una nube solamente
de repente me perdió!
¡Una nube sin sentido,
sin clemencia, sin olvido,
sin perdón!
Heart!
On that long night
ripened the bitter fruit
of this enormous loneliness.
Heart!
Among the clouds of which sky
will the sadness of your flight
wonder, desolate?
I know it well...
That beguiling cold,
all of a sudden, blinded me!
It was a wind of madness,
without tenderness, without forgiveness.
It was the hoarse scream
of a love gone mad
with pain.
You were the light of the sun
and the happy song
and the gray drizzle
on my window.
You were a faithful haven
and a blooming jasmine vine
and you were the morning.
Soft murmur...
Wind from the hill...
Warm lullaby
of the dove.
You won’t ever again be
the scent of the rose bush,
the freshness of a spring
in my destiny.
You will only be the voice
to remind me
that on one atrocious moment
I made you cry.
You’re not here anymore!
And the memory is a mirror
that reflects from afar
your sadness and my malice.
You’re not here anymore!
And your absence, that grows longer,
tastes like bitter fruit,
like punishment and loneliness.
Heart!
A cloud placed a veil
on the sky of both of us.
And just a cloud,
suddenly, got me lost!
A cloud without sense,
without clemency, without oblivion,
without forgiveness!