Dusky's Pad » My Rolas

Final Two Minutes

admin — Sun, 18 May 2008 04:41:53 +0000

If I were to die outside of California and in the absence of loves ones, I would want to hear the following song in the background in my last two minutes alive…

The song speaks to me… I hear it as if I had been alive in the mid-60s… as if my youth ended decades ago. But in reality, it’s simply that the most important events in my life happened while living in California. “All the leaves are brown…”

Los Yonic’s – Presa Fácil

admin — Tue, 22 May 2007 03:26:45 +0000

Before the rumors spread, no, there’s nothing wrong between Laura and me. It’s just a great song…

Translation:

You sought to make me yours and walk away, but I came to my senses just in time. I am now fully convinced it is not in my best interest to pursue anything with you. I would have to be out of my mind to be willing to become a toy you can manipulate.

I gotta say, though, I came close to falling for your game. I was very tempted, but luckily you showed your true colors and all my interest went to hell. You are now left with no choice but to swallow your pride, for the man you thought would be an easy prey is walking off. Deal with it.

Tu Presa Facil (Los Yonics)
Me creiste presa fácil para ti
pero te diste en la cara porque fue muy clara la intención que di
no me prestaré yo nunca, ni seré el juguete con que te diviertas
sé que tú solo pretendes tenerme en tus brazos y darte la vuelta
pero te falló conmigo porque justo a tiempo pude darme cuenta

No lo niego a punto estuve de caer
y te lo aseguro que era yo quien mas deseaba tener tu querer
pero echaste por la borda todo lo bonito que tú habías ganado
enseñaste pronto el cobre y sin mi cariño te vas a quedar
ya lo ves te diste cuenta que tu presa fácil se va, se te va.

Y te vas a quedar con las ganas de que sea tuyo
y tendrás que tragarte tu orgullo porque no caí
y te vas a quedar con las ganas de que sea tuyo
y tendrás que tragarte tu orgullo porque no caí.

Corrido de Aurelio Bustos

admin — Fri, 27 Apr 2007 03:35:25 +0000

The corrido of Aurelio Bustos recently became one of my favorite ballads. This song by Los Magallones features bravery, treachery, and also love/respect for one’s parents. It took me a whole lot of work, but maté el gusanito in creating a karaoke of the song. And of course, it includes an English translation…

[flv:corridodeaurelio.flv 320 240]

admin — Mon, 15 Jan 2007 19:36:10 +0000

I was going through old stuff and I found something I wrote in November of 2002. That was before I started blogging about music. Below the message were the lyrics to Alma Mia, a song by Julio Jaramillo.

I’m a drunk. But I’m a drunk not because I drink, but because of the way I think. I think like a drunk. I sit and listen to Julio Jaramillo speak of the cruelty of love, and it gets to me. I picture myself smashing my glass of wine against the table, yet my alcohol intake has never gone beyond the sip of beer I had as a kid.

As a kid, I recall that my mother would play the Julio Jaramillo songs, and although I knew nothing about love, for I was only 11 or 12, I showed an appreciation for his songs. I remember asking Maqui, one of our neighbors, if I could borrow her Julio Jaramillo CD. She must have been perplexed. “What would a kid want with Julio Jaramillo’s music?” Fact is, his voice, complemented with the sounds emanating from a guitar proved too much for me to ignore.

It was a couple of years later that I learned Julio had been a drunk himself. In fact, Julio died a drunk. He was a drunk who sang of love. The lyrics to his songs express my sorrow. If he indeed felt what his songs manifested, I can see why he was drunk… why he died one… the pain that comes with the end of a relationship is inmense.

admin — Fri, 29 Dec 2006 00:36:39 +0000

In Spanish, “querer” and “amar” are used interchangeably to express love for someone. “Querer,” however, is love to a lesser degree. Or so argues José-José in his song titled “El Amar y El Querer.”

Translation:

Almost all of us are capable of “querer,” but few know how to love. They are, indeed, two different things.

Love can be represented by (natural) light, the heavens, the never-ending sea. Love is total fulfillment of glory and peace.

“Querer” does not go beyond making love to someone over a short amount of time and for mere fulfillment of carnal desires; there’s biting instead of kissing, scratching instead of caressing.

He who loves seeks to serve the woman he loves, always giving her his all, never a hesitation to place his own life aside.

A man who “quiere” seeks to experience a moderate amount of joy so that when his relationship ends he’s able to move on with ease, thus, averting pain.

In summary, whereas “querer” can result in short-lasting joy, love is the fulfillment of all things good… with the strong potential to bring a man to his doom.

Somos Novios

admin — Fri, 01 Dec 2006 14:10:16 +0000

The paragraph below was inspired by Armando Manzanero’s “Somos Novios.” Which reminds me… I need to update my “About Me” page. I’m a year older, and well on my way to being immensely happier.

We are in a relationship now. Filled with purity and sincerity, our endearment has brought forth a mutual understanding, which, in turn, will lead us to accomplish the greatest feat possible in two people’s lives — love. In the meantime, our feelings often drive us mad. And although this madness may at times cause us to become upset with each other for no apparent reason at all, it’s also true that we are always on the lookout for a dark, secluded spot, where all we want to do is kiss without saying a word. All this is so because we’re in a relationship now… and forever.

admin — Sun, 01 Oct 2006 06:12:41 +0000

Translation:

Let him know about me. Start off by saying we met dancing and that there was something about that night that drove you crazy about me. Be blunt and say there are a thousand reasons why you chose me over him. Mention that I’m the better kisser and that I whisper things in your ear that he no longer does. End it all by telling him that you intend to see me tonight because in me you perceive a passion so ardent it can’t be put off. If after tonight you choose to go back to him and accept him with his faults, then so be it, just as long as we get to spend one more night together.

Dile (Don Omar)
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Dile que bailando te conocí.
(Cuéntale)
Dile que esta noche me quieres ver.
(Cuéntale)
Cuéntale que beso mejor que él.
(Cuéntale)
Dile que esta noche tú me vas a ver.
(Cuéntale)

Cuéntale que te conocí bailando;
Cuéntale que soy mejor que él;
Cuéntale que te traigo loca;
Cuéntale que no lo quieres ver;

Que quizas fue la noche la que te traicionó.
o el perfume de mi piel lo que te cautivó;
que ya no tienes excusas paÂ¬Â¥ tu traició;
que tuvistes mil motivos, que entre en razó;
que quizas te hablo al oido como ya él no;
o en mí arde el fuego de la pasión.
Ya no le mientas más y admite tu error
y si es por mí no pidas perdón.
Digo, queda de ti el que lo perdones,
el que lo olvides o lo abandones
porque con llorar no se compone.
Entonces a mi dame otra noche.

Otra, otra noche, otra
(Ay, que yo no te boté)
Otra, otra noche, otra
(Aunque tú vuelvas con él)
Otra, otra noche, otra
(Cuéntale, Cuéntale)
Otra, otra noche, otra
(Que beso mejor que él)
Otra, otra noche, otra
(Cuéntale, Cuéntale)
Otra, otra noche, otra…

admin — Wed, 21 Jun 2006 03:18:08 +0000

On Sunday evening I caught a beautiful song on Cantando Por Un Sueño. (By the way, this is the only time I’ll ever admit to watching this trash of a show — Mexican TV’s answer to “American Idol.”) See if you can figure out what song it is just by reading my English translation of it.

Hint: It’s a song by “Sin Banderas.”

Translation:

In my eyes, every assertion you make is nothing but the truth. When I hear you say that you are my ticket to heaven, I picture myself enjoying paradise with you. When your lips move to tell me that I’m all you have, I cry inside of me, and you become fully convinced that I sincerely consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the Earth. If you were to assert that the world’s oceans have ceased to be salty, I wouldn’t hesitate to spend an eternity ridding them of every grain of salt.

Unfortunately, every now and then I come to wonder if I should continue to act oblivious to your lies. Yes, all along I’ve been perfectly aware that you lie to my face, but I can’t bring myself to ask you to stop. Instead, when hearing your lies, I make my most gullible face so as to further encourage your lying ways. Your lies give me life, and that’s the reason why I pretend to be your gullible fool. Your lies paint for me a reality that makes me feel extremely grateful to be alive. You are the world’s biggest liar… and I love you for it.

admin — Mon, 29 May 2006 04:36:08 +0000

Translation:

I’m in no way right for you. We’re as different as autumn and spring. Whereas you’re selective in giving your love, I go for almost anyone who crosses my path. Breaking hearts is what I do, just like my father before me, and my grandfather before him. I conquer women only to remain with them long enough to fulfill my carnal needs. Once I’ve gotten what I want, I allow them to drift apart.

Drinking binges are the only constant in my disorderly life. Devoid of self-control, I’m voluntarily held captive by any place that features wine, women, and guitars. On the plus side, I do value friendships — well aware that today I might have riches, but I might need friends tomorrow when I’m only covered with rags. However, I’m not one to express my true feelings; hence, no one ever knows whether mine are tears of joy or tears of sorrow.

All in all, you’re better off without me.

Bohemio de Afición (Juan Valentin)
Listen/Escuchar [Off]
Buy/Comprar

Aléjate de mí
no quiero que me quieras.
Yo soy otoño gris y tú eres primavera.
Tú llevas en tu ser pureza de adeveras;
en cambio yo me pierdo por cualquiera.

Aléjate de mí, yo en nada te convengo.
Mi mundo de ilusión es todo lo que tengo.
Infiel en el amor lo traigo de abolengo;
rompiendo corazones me entretengo!

Yo todo lo que tengo lo doy por las damas;
y nunca me entretengo a ver si me aman.
Les doy mi corazón tan solo una semana
y luego sin rencores dejo que se alejen si les da la gana.

Me quito la camisa por un buen amigo.
Hoy vivo millonario, mañana mendigo.
Mi dicha y mi dolor, a nadie se lo digo;
por eso nadie sabe cuando estoy gozando, cuando estoy herido.

Bohemio de afición, amigo de las farras;
de noche mi timón navega sin amarras.
El antro de lo peor me atrapa entre sus garras
si hay vino, si hay mujeres, y guitarras!

Yo todo lo que tengo lo doy por las damas;
y nunca me entretengo a ver si me aman.
Les doy mi corazón tan solo una semana
y luego sin rencores dejo que se alejen si les da la gana.

Me quito la camisa por un buen amigo
hoy vivo millonario, mañana un mendigo.
Mi dicha y mi dolor, a nadie se la digo;
por eso nadie sabe cuando estoy gozando, cuando estoy herido;
por eso nadie sabe cuando estoy gozando, cuando estoy herido…

admin — Tue, 02 May 2006 03:52:48 +0000

As I approached my jobsite, I noticed that all hispanic businesses were closed. I felt guilt. It was a moment of solidarity, and I wasn’t being part of it. As I came across students and coworkers, I kept my eyes down. I was ashamed to be at work. I know the plight of the undocumented immigrant… I lived it for more than a decade.

Translation:

He packed a hat, a couple of shirts, Â¬â€ seven pictures,Â¬â€ some advice, and a thousand memories.Â¬â€ He had to put aside his dream of succeeding without having to leave home.Â¬â€ He directed his pleas to the crucifix resting on a shelf; he asked the Lord toÂ¬â€ please take care of those he was about to leave behind.Â¬â€ Â¬â€ With a smile clearly bathed with insincerity, he bid farewell to those he loved.

Somehow he managed to cross the border, but as soon as he set foot in his new home he became known as “wetback.”Â¬â€ Â¬â€ Bound to be kept wet by his nostalgia-induced tears, the pitiful wetback carries a burden that nobody else would dare withstand.Â¬â€ Â¬â€ He’s oppressed because he’s not able to produce a document that demonstrates his legal status.Â¬â€ Â¬â€ Overwhelmed by his desire to return home one day, he can’t see a freeway in the distance without hoping it were the small trail he used to know back home.Â¬â€ Although he was promised by the heavens the unalienable right to seek happiness wherever it may be found, society seems determined to convince him that he’s an outcast, and, thus, unworthy — all because he refused to die of starvation at home.

Mojado (Ricardo Arjona)
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Empacó un par de camisas, un sombrero,
su vocación de aventurero,
seis consejos, siete fotos, mil recuerdos.

Empacó sus ganas de quedarse,
su condición de transformarse
en el hombre que soñó
y no ha logrado.

Dijo adiós con una mueca disfrazada de sonrisa.
Y le suplicó a su Dios crucificado en la repisa
el resguardo de los suyos.
Y perforó la frontera como pudo.

Si la luna suave se desliza
por cualquier cornisa sin permiso alguno.
Porque el mojado precisa
comprobar con visas que no es de neptuno.

El mojado tiene ganas de secarse.
El mojado está mojado
por las lágrimas que bota la nostalgia.
El mojado, el indocumentado
carga el bulto que el legal no cargaría ni obligado.

El suplicio de un papel lo ha convertido en fugitivo.
Y no es de aquí porque su nombre no aparece en los archivos,
ni es de allá porque se fue.
Si la luna suave se desliza por cualquier cornisa sin permiso alguno.
Porque el mojado precisa comprobar con visas que no es de neptuno.

Mojado,
Sabe a mentira tu verdad,
sabe a tristeza la ansiedad
de ver un freeway y soñar con la vereda que conduce hasta tu casa.

Mojado,
Mojado de tanto llorar
sabiendo que en algún lugar te espera un beso haciendo pausa desde el día en que te marchaste.

Si la luna suave se desliza por cualquier cornisa sin permiso alguno.
Porque el mojado precisa comprobar con visas que no es de neptuno.
Si la visa universal se extiende el día en que nacemosy caduca en la muerte.
Porque te persiguen mojado,
si el cónsul de los cielos
ya te dio permiso.