Saturday, December 6, 2003I had been meaning to visit the indoor swapmeet at Lankershim and Saticoy (North Hollywood) to purchase a CD of Chayito Valdez. I dig some of her songs. Then the other day I found a CD of hers. One I thought was too scratched to be listened to. I put it aside because I lacked the time to check it out. This morning I had the time… and joy, my favorite songs could still be heard. Here is one… Translation:Gathered around the table, filled with sadness, my children and I stare at the empty chair. I know that with your infamy and unfaithfulness your life was ruined; but so was theirs and mine. Sometimes they ask where you are, and it hurts that I have to lie, telling them that you’re in heaven; that from up there you can see us; that while you were alive you loved us immensely; that you were a saint. I had to lie to them in order to spare them the pain. I could not tell them the truth, that you dared to abandon your home and your children for another lover. Sometimes they ask if you’re in heaven, and I bite my lips as I say that you are. By God, sometimes I’m filled with jealousy knowing that they love you, much more than they love me. Except the eldest. He knows of your unfaithfulness, and lowers his eyes so that they won’t meet mine. He never enters your room, nor does he call your name. He loves to isolate himself from others… far, far from others. I see our youngest daughter running around the house, with her childish smile and innocent joy. She suddenly stops to hug and kiss you, but all she touches is the empty chair. La Silla Vacía (Chayito Valdez) Rodeados de la mesa Más sé que con tu engaño y tu infamia quedó A veces me preguntan Les digo que en el cielo Les tuve que mentir por no hacerlos sufrir A veces me preguntan si estás en el cielo. Y me muerdo los labios al decir que sí. Por Dios que hay momentos que he sentido celos, de ver que te quieren mucho más que a mí. Veo al mas grandecito que ya entiende tu infamia, y baja le vista sin verme de frente. Nunca entra a tu cuarto ni tu nombre aclama. Y le gusta aislarse lejos, lejos de la gente. Veo a la más pequeña correr por la casa. Con su sonrisa infantil y su inocente alegría. Luego se detiene, te besa y te abraza. Aunque solo acaricia, la silla vacía. Les tuve que mentir por no hacerlos sufrir Posted by at 1:07 pm [Permalink]
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